I never realized that 2017 was going to change my entire life.
I was jealous when I saw friends at school because when they went home, they had siblings to talk to and play with. It was so sad that some of my friends were talking about their siblings, about playing and spending time with them.
I was also disappointed as to why my loving mother, who is so attentive to my studies and personality development, is not thinking about this. I started asking her about this often.
“How nice it would be if I had a brother too”.
She didn’t seem to care. She tried to satisfy me in other ways. Realizing that I was hurting her, I sometimes stopped asking questions that came to my mind. This sickness increased for me after we returned to Sri Lanka from India. I felt so lonely. My mother did not have time to do anything here, while she took me to the park or beach every day when I was in India and made me play with the children. She worked very hard day in and night out to set up an organization called Mantra Life.
A young woman who was pregnant at the beginning of the Mantra Institute was staying there. I learned from my mother that she is a client, had attempted suicide, and was staying here to seek counseling and healing. My mother has been caring for and counseling that young woman for over three months. The young pregnant woman seemed to be getting a little fresh healed appearance and empowerment. She would talk to me sometimes if I went there in the evenings.
“Will she give birth to a child and give it to us?”, I asked my mother one day. My mother gave no answer to that. She looked at me and smiled.
A few days later I noticed that my mother was busy bringing together the woman who was slowly recovering from the stress, and her husband who had pushed her into that position. My mother must have done her job wisely. She finally reunited her with her family. But I never stopped asking that I wanted a brother. “For once, why don’t you give me a brother as a gift?”, I asked.
That was the day my mother opened up.
“Your mother is a single mother. How can she give you siblings?”
“Why can’t we adopt a child!”
She was looking at me in amazement. Then, “Are you really ready for that?” She asked.
I do not understand her question. She explained further.
“Look, adopting a child is not an easy task. It is the life of a child. Do you want to share yourself with a child? Want to share your mom’s love? Are you ready to share everything?”
I was staring at her.
“Nothing is urgent. Think about it. What would you do, if he tore your books? What would you do, if you picked up your colors? What do you do, if your shirt gets dirty by him? I am asking this, because, you are not used to all this. You have become accustomed to being alone. You have been thinking that this Mummy’s love is only for you. You are accustomed to the fact that everything in this house is ours. The brother relationship is not just about playing and spending time differently. You need to think more and deep”.
I understood everything my Mummy said. I started thinking about it. I asked my school friends about their brothers and sisters. As I was studying, drawing, and reading from home alone, watching TV began to seem like someone else was sitting with me. I eagerly looked at the iconic children’s clothes and toys as I walked the shopping sites with my mom.
My mother was getting ready to adopt a baby just as I wished.
“I have promised to a pregnant woman to adopt her child. But I don’t know if it’s a boy or a girl”, mom said.
I was waiting, imagining in my mind if it would be a sister or brother.
We also shared this news with our families.
Little by little, we prepared our house for the new member. We bought the cradle. Mom and I looked after and bought everything from napkins, milk bottles, safety pins, baby clothes, towels, baby soap, cologne, baby cream, lotions, and everything. Our house smelled like a newborn house, without a baby.
I will never forget that day. On August 22, 2017, at 7.45 pm when she got a phone call, my mother rushed to pick up her Scooty. My grandmother and I were staring at the clock until she returned home. It was ten o’clock at night for Mom to come home. There was a look of fatigue on her face. But she said nothing. I went to sleep that night with mysterious thoughts.
The next day morning, Mom was getting ready to go to the hospital early. She told me to get ready too. I prepared excitedly and confusedly. I hoped inside the day that the coveted newborn member of our family was going to come. I was confused still if it was a brother or sister. I followed my Mom who walked fast into the Castle Hospital in Borella. It is a maternity hospital in Colombo. That was the first time I saw many mothers with babies lying in cots and cradles. Mom’s pace slowed and she leaned closer to a cradle. She called me nearby.
“Here is the gift you asked for. It is an invaluable gift that you need to cherish for the rest of your life. ”
My fingers trembled. I cried for no reason. Mommy hugged me.
I was in the mood to accept the baby, even if it was going to be a sister. But I longed for a brother. The baby boy was lying in the cradle as I wished, and was pinching his arms and legs. My brother! Tiny little fingers, fleshy little body, beautiful marble eyes. They seemed to be looking straight at us. The lips were smiling. I felt like I had to hug him like that. But I was afraid to lift and only gently brushed my fingers. My body got goosebumps. I could not believe it. I just stared at the baby lying in the cradle and waving his legs and arms.
We came home with the baby that afternoon after completing the formalities from the hospital. After we reached our residence I asked my mom, “Can I carry the baby?”
She very carefully lifted the baby and slowly spread a cotton mattress on my lap and laid the baby in it. Since then, not only mine but all of our days have started to turn happy.
My mother spent almost six months with the baby, without focusing on any other work. My grandmother was cooperative in every way. They did everything very carefully, such as feeding the baby, bathing him, and putting him to sleep. Often they said, we did the same thing to you, and they were reminding my infant days too.
I felt more excited than ever. Going to school was more fun than ever. I talked to my friends about my brother whenever I had time. My close friend Mumta came home with his family and saw my brother. I enjoyed every action of my brother. I enjoyed watching it all unravel, crawling, grabbing something, and trying to stand up. For my brother, our home environment was constantly changing. There were many house rules, for example, 1. Keep the floor clean, 2. No polythene, 3. No outside food, 4. Place electrical ports and medicines out of eyesight.
There were many rules to be followed and sometimes they were hard to follow, but I followed them because I understood those are good for my brother’s wellbeing.
Oh! I must say about that interesting day we named my little brother!
My mom handed me a list and asked me to pick a name from it. But I did not like a single name on that list. I said that not even one of the names in it matched my brother.
“Then tell me a name that suits your brother.” My mother asked.
“Eid” I suddenly said.
“Wow, that’s a brilliant name”, she said in surprise. My grandmother also liked that name.
Eid means ‘festival’ in Arabic. By the time we were getting ready to adopt a baby, everyone else was getting ready for the Hajj festival. The name is apt for someone who brings joy that the festival does not bring during the festive season!
There are many things to say about Eid. He is just 3 and a half now. He has a very good habit of sharing things, but he is not good enough at keeping secrets. I and my brother have 10 years age difference, but I seriously enjoy and respect this worthy gift.
There was a tragedy behind all these happy events. My mom was a single mother and was unable to legally adopt another child. She often met with several lawyers. She kept talking about it with grandmother very anxiously. Although I did not understand these details, I was sad that my little brother did not have a birth certificate like me. I kept saying he is my brother whether he had a legal birth certificate or not, and no matter who the child is, or where he came from.
My mother is a determined woman. She only recently received his birth certificate after three years of stubbornly fighting the law. I would be thankful ever to my mom and my grandmother for their cooperation, support, and trust in my idea of adoption.
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Author
Diya Al Badhri
My name is Diya Al Badhri. I was born in Sri Lanka on July 30, 2008. We settled in India in 2012 when I was three and a half years old. We lived in Chennai till 2016. That’s where I started my elementary education. My first guru was my mother who was a single mother. She and I have made numerous trips, trekking and hiking. In 2016 I returned to Sri Lanka. I continued my studies in Colombo. Then again in 2019, the circumstances forced me to stay in a hostel in India. I returned to Sri Lanka in 2020 due to Covid -19. I am learning from the flow of such an uncertain life.
