A letter I won’t be able to share with Baby Girl:

In four days, we will be reunited with your birthmother.  To say that I have mixed emotions would be an understatement – and yet that mix doesn’t include any sadness or trepidation, which is, frankly, very odd.  Shouldn’t I be scared to death? Worried she’ll regret her decision? Realize we aren’t perfect? Judge every interaction we have with you?

Maybe I’ll become nervous closer to the actual visit, but at this point in the countdown what I feel most is the worst heart-shattering empathy I think I’ve ever experienced.  How on earth will I be able to watch as she – the bravest woman I know – holds you for the first time since she said goodbye?

Honestly? It kills me to think about it.

I had a long chat with our social worker regarding my thoughts.  Rationally, I know everything she reminded me of to be true: birthmom is doing remarkably well, she is not showing signs of remorse, she is getting back to building a life for herself and by all acounts is….happy.  The social worker even called it a picture-perfect adoption scenario. 

So, I guess I should be…happy, too?

See the thing is, when you want a child as badly as we did, and like most families do, the mere idea of not parenting is outgrageous…it’s…unthinkable.  I mean, seriously, if I had a dollar for every time some well-meaning person has said, “Wow, I could never, ever make that choice…”.  Well, yeah, no kidding…but that’s because we desperately want to be parents!

Not everyone does. 

Not everyone wants a baby.

Not everyone wants to be a parent.  Is able to be a parent.  Or has the means to parent. Or parent again.

But some – a very special few – recognize they can still give life (rather than end it) to a precious girl like you and share that miracle with someone else.   I may never fully understand how she was able to make the choice she did, but I will come to accept it for what it is and trust that she did the best thing possible at the time. 

She made us parents.  She made me your Momma.  She changed our world.

I will embrace her again and tell her all about everything we’ve been doing for the past 7 months and let her see for herself what a funny little fire cracker you’ve become.   We are so proud of you, and I’m excited to share you with her again.  We will take pictures and laugh…and cry…and hopefully make plans to see her again in the new year.

This is a big, big day for us.  Deep down, I know my heart can take it, I just have to keep reminding it, that’s all.

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