17 March 2010
Three weeks ago we buried you my baby. You were only three months old. I can not believe how short time we had you yet it felt a very long time. Perhaps it was very painful for you and for us. Mummy feels comfort in believing that you are now in a pure place where there is no pain and suffering. Oh baby, mummy had such a wonderful but so challenging time when you were here. From the moment you were born, life seemed not fair and it was not real. How can it happen to anyone, not only us but anyone, I didn’t wish this to anybody. Yes, the question of ‘Why us?’ was there but I didn’t want it to anyone. I wanted to find the God and beat him up, push him against a wall and ask ‘How can you do this?! What did I do? What did we do? What did my little boy do? It wasn’t his fault.’ Perhaps, God doesn’t exist; otherwise everyone will be looking for him. I’m begging God to look after you now, I put money in your little Mongolian wallet, so you will be fine in any country you go, assuming you can change the pence anywhere in the world and in Mongolia that money should be enough to take you to your auntie Tseye’s. I put our photo beside you, me breastfeeding you. So you will know who your mummy is. Of course, the photo of all of us is there too. You had a beautiful red hair, people wouldn’t know you were a mixed race child. Your Celtic genes were showing in your fair skin. Mummy was very pleased to see your Mongolian blue spots on your bottom I would call you my boy with golden chest and silver bottom just like the fairy tales in Mongolia. Yes, you were a fairy tale hero.