Jan 03

Haiku 1061

Posted: under Daily Haiku, Kelly's Haiku.
Tags: , , , , , , , January 3rd, 2013

by Kelly

by Kelly

we watch Han Min’s heart

beat on the screen — it’s as if

we made him ourselves

Today, Hubby and I took Han Min to a geneticist. Because he is adopted, his family history is unknown, and he has some known health issues, we wanted to speak with a specialist to see if there were any tests we could pursue that could help us (and him) be aware of any future health concerns.

We decided not to go ahead with any genetic testing right now. His DNA, after all, isn’t going anywhere. We could always decide, or he could decide when he gets older, to go ahead with a blood draw. But for now, he will remain our little mystery.

Yet two things did happen at the doctor’s office. After meeting and getting to know Han Min, the geneticist told us she thought he was beautiful.

“Well, thank you,” I said. “But you know, we didn’t have anything to do with that.”

“You certainly did,” she said. “You picked him.”

Hubby and I jumped on that comment at the same time. “No, we didn’t,” we both said. “They just called us and there he was.”

“But you said yes,” the doctor said.

That is true. We did say yes. But it has never felt as though Han Min’s presence in our lives is the result of us “picking” him. Instead, it really does feel as though he landed in our laps by some miracle that neither one of us can explain — which is absurd seeing as how we spent months filling out forms, forms and more forms to be approved for the adoption process.

And while it’s somewhat comforting to compare Han Min’s personality traits to traits that Hubby and I share, we don’t kid ourselves that we had anything to do with Han Min’s inherent adorableness, athleticism or intelligence — three traits anyone who spends more than three minutes with the kid recognizes immediately.

And yet. During the doctor’s exam, she noticed a heart murmur. Normally, a heart murmur wouldn’t be something to be overly concerned about, but she was the first doctor to hear it — and poor Han Min has seen way more than his fair share of doctors in his short seven months with us. A second doctor in the room confirmed the murmur.

Because of some of Han Min’s underlying health issues, Hubby and I were worried. Was this a new development in his health? Was this murmur just the start of something that was going to turn into a bigger deal?

And so, a hour later, we found ourselves in a darkened room with our little Han Min stripped from the waist up lying on a table having an echo cardiogram.

“The doctor is going to take a picture of your heart,” we told him.

Assured there would be no “ouchies,” and with his mommy and daddy by his side, Han Min bravely laid back and let the “picture taking” begin.

The screen on the large machine lit up and the image that appeared was just like an ultra sound of a fetus. It was black and white and in that same tell tale wedge shape that I’ve tried so many times to ignore as yet one more friend posted their own image on Facebook as an announcement to the world.

But here was our ultra sound of our little Han Min. And his heart was beating. And we could see it. And we could hear it. And for a moment, it was like he really was of our own making.

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