I can’t remember how long motherhood has been a dream of mine, but I can tell you its been a long time. I can recall being a little girl, no more than six, and stuffing a pillow under my shirt and pretending to be a mommy. But more than the pillow-stuffing, I played with a lot of baby dolls. And even as a small child, playing with the dolls had far more meaning to me than the pillow stuffed under the shirt.
And it still does.
I won’t care if you grow inside of my skin, if you bare my eyes or the genetic ability to curl your tongue. There are traits you will have that we could never be blessed enough to pass on to you. For example, both RB and I are terrible at math. Really, really horrendous. I can pay my bills and figure out the compound interest on a 30 year apr loan, but when it comes to geometry and how many peanuts would Sally have left over if she sold them for $3.00 a pound, I’m at a loss. But maybe you’ll be a math whiz. RB and I both had blonde hair when we were little (though dye for me and age for RB have changed all that)… maybe you’ll have a shock of gorgeous dark auburn locks.
Or maybe not.
Maybe you’ll be awful at math and have blonde hair that blinds. The importance in all of this is: it makes no difference. Either way, you’ll be our kid.
I am not going to lie and say that seeing belly shots, going to baby showers, seeing sonograms..it still hurts. I don’t think it will ever stop, but I do think it will lessen. And I also think that if this all works out, little one, that we’ll have a few huge one-ups on the birth side of things. Firstly, fate chose us to be together. And yes, for a lot of pregnancies fate plays a big role, but I feel like all the stars have aligned, the skies have opened up and a path has been beaten to lead us to each other.
You may never get to hear my heartbeat from the inside as it would be if I had given birth to you myself, but you will hear it pound louder than any others when we’re laying chest to chest. You will know that with every single bump-bump its beating strong for you. You will know from the start that while you didn’t grow under my heart, you grew inside of my heart.
And let me tell you, little one, genetics aren’t all they are cracked up to be. A family is not based on genetics. I love RB more than anyone on this planet, and he has absolutely no genetic tie to me (at least I really hope not!) Motherhood is about so much more than carrying a child in your womb. It’s about who is by your side when you’re running a fever. It’s about who provides for you emotionally. It’s about who loves you, more than anyone on this entire planet. It’s about who guides you through life until you can grow your own little wings and take flight on your own. Motherhood is about love, compassion, caring, nurturing, teaching, happiness and joy. It’s not about whether our fingers are the same length (mine are notoriously short and stubby, I’m glad to not pass that along) or whether or not you can wiggle your ears.
Mothers are the ones who escort you through life, giving you everything you need to thrive. I’m not interested in creating a mini-me. I’m interested in creating an awesome you. And yes, it will take a little more work. You might have to explain to your friends why you don’t look like your parents. You might have to come to terms with the fact that your parents are total and complete dorks, even if you’re a cool kid. But it will so be worth it.
And when those other kids ask why you don’t look like us, just remember that RB and I couldn’t ever create anything as perfect and beautiful as you. And when they ask why you’re adopted, just remember that the way everyone makes their way into this world is different, but never forget:
We wanted YOU. And how many kids can say that?
Motherhood is not about carrying a child in your womb for nine months. Its about carrying a soul in your heart for a lifetime.
And I think my heart has been working out for the past three years to be strong enough to hold you forever.