It is a quiet spring morning as we wander through the park today. We have braved the busy morning and manic school run and finally it is just the two of us! The busyness of a house with five children in slips away as we meander with the early sun on our faces. The birds are singing and the daffodils smile at us as you snuggle into me in your sling. We babble together as I point out birds and trees to your inquisitive and enquiring eyes. This is our walk, and one we take often; But this morning it feels different, electric, tinged with something else. Today you are One!
Happy birthday my precious and wonderful little girl. Watching you grow and change these last few months has been a great and wondrous joy. What an honour it is to share this moment with you.
As I relish in the joy of this moment the significance is not lost on me. Today I am the fortunate one. I am the mum, the foster mum, who gets to relish this moment. I am the woman who gets this moment, and the profoundness of that is not lost on me. I am acutely aware that my gain is others loss. That me holding you now in the spring sun means that others can not.
My mind drifts to the loss of your birth mum. Casting her as the villain in this piece is a disservice to her story and yours. The journey that led you to me was tough, and layered, and multidimensional. There were failures, but that does not negate her loss. Today you are in my arms not hers, and I feel her pain. I am aware that my joy is her sorrow. I feel for her empty nest and hope that good will come of this loss, that the pain will lead to restoration and recovery. It is a naïve and ill conceived prayer, but it is mine none the less. She is part of you, and I can not love you, without loving her. My love for her hurts. Today her loss hurts.
My mind drifts to the expectant but empty arms of your adoptive mum. Again my gain is her loss. I get to relish this moment, and she waits. Every one from now on will be hers, yet I can not escape the feeling that I robbed her of this one too. No photos or texts will make up for the fact that still she waits. That you wait. I am your limbo, she is your forever and the burden of that sits heavy. I am a caretaker, and the privilege, weight and honour of that feels all consuming on days like these.
My mind drifts to you and how this privileged moment should have been shared with your forever. How I will always be the back up plan for your life, but you deserve more. This moment, your first birthday was not intended to be like this. I will do my best to make it special, but this is not the ideal. You, oh precious one, should have had better, and I am sorry other’s choices have robbed you of that.
As we walk I whisper all my hopes and dreams over your now drowsy head. I hope you know love. I hope you feel safe. I claim that your past will not hold back your future. I relish in the thought that the beginning is not the end. Your worth is endless dear girl, may you always know that.
As you drift to sleep in my arms I let a few tears fall. A tear of the joy of the moment. A tear for your birth mothers pain. A tear for your mummy's wait. A tear for all that has been taken from you. And a tear for my looming goodbye.
Today you are one and it is bitter sweet but you are wonderful.
