Sunday, October 19, 2008
When I was pregnant with my previous two, I found myself thinking about them constantly. Especially after they began to roll around inside me, kicking and tumbling and reminding me of their presence.
I miss that. I miss holding my baby safely inside me next to my heart. But I find that I still think about her. I still wonder daily, usually hourly what she will be like, what her personality will be. I imagine myself holding her, smelling her hair.
Of course I don't miss being so sick I cannot stand up. But I do miss my baby. I think she is out there somewhere, the baby who will be our daughter. She is growing and I miss her. I miss the opportunity to talk to her. I wish I could touch my stomach and tell her I love her. I wish strangers looked at me with a belly full of baby and smiled knowingly at me.
I think about the woman who will give birth to our daughter then hand her over to an agency worker. She strokes her stomach when the baby kicks. I hope she is telling the baby that she is loved. I know that she will think about her baby. Maybe every day. Maybe more. She will wonder where her baby is and hope she is happy. Maybe we can send her pictures.
Yes, adoption is a very different experience. I miss my baby. But some things are the same. I still have to wait to see her, to hold her and stroke her downy cheek. The prayers offered up on her behalf are just as fervent. She is wanted and loved just as much even though she is thousands of miles away. There is not a doubt in my mind that God has already chosen the exact baby He will place in our family and already in my heart she is my daughter.