I take a deep breath, inhaling your sweet, perfect new smell. Your peach fuzz hair tickles my nose as I whisper kisses on your brow, your nose, your perfect little eyelashes. I watch in awe as your fingers curl instinctively around mine, and your little mouth moves in the soothing motion of a suckle. Your tiny legs and arms instinctively curl back in on themselves as you stretch out with a yawn of contentment. I cannot help but peel of the tiny slips of cotton that cover your toes to count them one more time. 184.108.40.206.5….
My finger traces the bottom of your foot, the lines marking how long your have grown on the bottom of your feet, while your toes stretch and contract back in at the sensation. I lay a gentle kiss on your perfectly round little belly, as I remark again, for the thousandth time, at your sweet perfection.
For those of you who’ve been here awhile, you’ll know that I’ve never experienced this perfect and sought after picture of motherhood. It is a compilation of my hopes and dreams, what I’ve imagined, and what I know from watching the beautiful babes who have woven their way through my life. All I ever wanted was to be a mom. And God granted that wish, but in a way I never imagined. I have three children, all of whom have joined us through adoption from foster care. And I love them fiercely. But there has always been a whole in my soul. A hole that has waited for a baby, the baby I have never had.
I know my body will never carry a child. I’ve given that dream wings and let it go. I have focused on my babes, on being an infertility and endometriosis advocate. I wrote a memoir about our journey and am in the final stages of printing, with a pre-order link up and running. I have strove to spread awareness, and to bring hope. And I thought I had moved beyond the dream of a baby. But in the last couple of months things have changed. We’ve been offered the opportunity to adopt a baby, and I am beside myself with excitement. These are my dream coming to life. I can’t wait for those still, quiet moments. I can’t wait to drop those sweet smooches on my soon-to-be babe’s head. And I can’t wait to love him, or her, entirely.