Operation Baby Lift

 

Our playroom and living room had been turned into some kind of nursery.  The yellow walls and the cream colored rug that lined the floors suddenly had a different feeling, a different meaning. I wasn't mad about it, hell I was getting 12 more siblings, and god knows that I hated my current ones.  It was right before my 7th birthday in April of 1975.  The Vietnam war was in play, and somehow I was involved. Well me, and my family.  You see, my dad was a prominent pediatrician in the area, Pound Ridge, New York, and he had been asked to house, and take care of 12 Vietnamese orphans, who were caught in a plane crash known as “Operation Baby Lift”. Our job was to nurse them back to heath, and then put them up for adoption.  Before I knew it, 12 white cribs, dirty diapers, empty and spilling formula bottles, were where my legos and barbie house used to be, and they were oozing their gross milk all over my precious dolls’ hair.  But, I didn't care too much.  I had an immediate bond with some of these kids.  Danny, my love, a little chubby 6-month-old boy, with a head of thick jet-black hair, and a grin from ear to ear, even with one tooth. He was the life of the party and was a whole family favorite.  I was in love with all the kids, and soon became attached to them to the point of centering my whole day around them.

My daily, second-grade routine quickly became wakeup, play with babies, eat breakfast with babies, go to school, think about babies, come home, play with babies, feed the babies, and go to sleep.  I loved holding Lil Ol’ Danny in my arms, and of course, you can't forget about Tuyet.  Tuyet was a gift.  At the age of 6 months, she had lost the use and feelings of her legs, but that didn't stop her beautiful face, big brown eyes, and undeniably contagious smile, from making her who she was.  She would go around the house, dragging herself, and crawling with a laugh that couldn't be stopped and with the aim to love. She had this bracelet, now I don't really remember that much about it, but me and my three siblings all thought that it was from her mother.  This little cloth bracelet had so much meaning. But it came time to let go.

Putting them up for adoption was so hard, and the bond that I had had with all these kids was so strong, they felt like part of the family. The gut-wrenching feeling of someone pulling my heart out couldn't help but turn into part of my daily routine as well.  I would fall asleep crying and wake up with puffy eyes and dried up tears coating my cheek and my light pink pillow.  I knew it was best for them, it just hurt so bad, but there wasn't anything I could do, a house with 16 kids wouldn't work.  As time went on, all the babies had gotten adopted, Danny to New Jersey, and such, but Tuyet was a loner.  Not many people wanted her until one family offered to take her, right before we were gonna make her part of the Harris clan.  I don't know where she is now, or who she is with, but I know, wherever the heck she is, shes still that loving, beautiful and happy little girl I knew.  Through all of this, I learned that doing good feels good and that these little babies continue to touch my heart and play a huge role in the woman I am today.  I have three children now who are the light of my life, and I would do anything for them.