Just Thinking…

I often find myself thinking about little M’s beginnings… especially about her birthmother, someone who lives halfway across the world, whom I’ve never met.
She is one of the most important people in my life. She carried my little girl for nine months, and after giving birth to her, made a decision that is almost impossible for me to fathom.

I believe in my heart that my little M was loved by her birthmom. She made a choice to carry her baby,  she selflessly chose life for her baby, and even though she was not able to raise her daughter herself, she made what must have been a devastating and heartbreaking decision. Do I have proof that little M was loved? The only proof I have is my love for my daughter…firstly, who doesn’t love an innocent little baby, and secondly, it is impossible to look into little M’s eyes, and not feel love stirring in your heart for this precious girl.

I am the mother who benefitted from someone else’s sorrow, who gained the joy of being a mother to a perfect daughter, and I wish she could know that little M is happy. She is loved and cherished. She is the joy of our life, and most of all…she is healthy.

When little M reaches a milestone, and when she celebrates an accomplishment, even a little one, I think of her birthmother. I wish there was a way to let her know… I wish I could pick up the phone, and let her know that our daughter is hearing, she is speaking at age level, and that she loves with all of her being.

She is gentle and kind. She is smart, and has a memory like a steel trap. She is beautiful, and she proudly marches to the beat of her own drum. her eyes are beautiful and her smile is breathtaking …did she get some or all of that from her birthmother?

When I brush her beautiful black hair, I imagine that she got that from her birthmom. When I look at her growth chart, and mark another inch off, I wonder if her birthfather was tall. When she laughs so hard she closes her eyes, I can’t help but laugh with her, and I wonder if her birthmom laughs the same way. I wish she could see how joyfully happy our daughter is. Our daughter has handled all of the difficulties of the past years with resiliency and gracefulness, and I am sad she can’t know that. I think of all the milestones, and birthdays she has missed, and my heart hurts for her. It makes me hurt to think of everything she will miss in the future…

I hope she is at peace, little M’s birthmother, and I hope that somehow, someday, I might be able to give her a hug, and tell her what a blessing our daughter is to everyone who knows her. I would love to sit with her and thank her for the gift our daughter is to me. And I would tell her about our little M… that she is brave, and her courage astounds me. She is feisty, and smart, and she has a hilarious sense of humor. She is silly, and loves to laugh. She is loving, so kind, and she cares about others. She is sensitive, and thoughtful. She is affectionate, and giving. She is completely loved by her family, and she is healthy and happy.

I wish I could tell a woman I have never met that our daughter is happy.


  1. celine on November 9, 2012 at 7:10 pm

    What a tender and sweet post. It brought tears to my eyes. And on a more shallow note, I LOVE the dress little M has on! She looks timeless in it!

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