Dear Solana,
Today you and I had time just by ourselves. Just you and I. Its such a rare occurrence given that I'm the Mom in a house with 5 kids, a Dad and a dog. This was more than our 15 minutes alone in the car together where you either fall asleep or scream your head off. We played. We ate lunch together. We snuggled. And I got to whisper to you "I love you" over and over again. I told you how smart you are. I told you that I was proud to be your "Mama" and you pointed to me and repeated "Mama" and then I said "Solana" and you pointed to yourself. And then you gave me a kiss and squealed in delight. And inhaled your sent, the baby detergent and the fine curls on your neck and I tried to burn the memory of how you felt in my arms deep into my brain.
This New Years Day marks time for us. Time that will fly by. A blip in your life, really, but likely a turning point in mine. In 30 days you will officially cease to be my responsibility and Caseworker #4 will come for their last visit with us and take you to live with your Daddy. I know your Daddy loves you and that you will be safe. I know that he will continue to let us see you and that you won't know anything has happened because you will live at his house and at ours. But that visit means you won't be our daughter and you will become the baby that we had to let go. The baby we never thought we wanted and had no idea that we needed. You completed our family in ways that I never could have imagined and its hard not to fear what a big gaping hole we might be left with.
But you were worth every moment. They will ask me how we could say goodbye? And I will say because she was worth it. Knowing that you will always know what a loving family felt like, what comforting touch and kisses were, that you flourished in a safe home, will be worth any amount of pain I feel about you leaving. They will ask "Didn't you get attached." And I will say, "Yes, that's what she needed. And I would do it again. I would crawl through glass to make sure she had the proper attachment." And they will say things like "I don't know how you do it" or "I could never do it" and I will simply shrug because you gave us such a gift, I can't imagine not doing it.
I didn't know we needed a baby. I had no idea how quickly love could come into my heart. I didn't know it was possible to love Daddy more until I heard him singing about turkeys while changing your diaper on that first day. I had no idea how helpful seeing a baby crying and parents caring for that baby would be to your siblings piece together unconditional love or at the very least, trust in parents who signed up for forever. I didn't know I could find joy in something as simple as watching you experience music. Even as you leave us, you are still teaching us to be better versions of ourselves, freer in our emotions and feelings, and generous in our compassion. It's been a privileged to be your Mama and its a privilege to be a part of your Daddy's support network. Only a special girl like you could make such a difference in so many people's lives.
You are destined for great things my little one. Great things.
All my love sweet pea,
Mommy R
Today you and I had time just by ourselves. Just you and I. Its such a rare occurrence given that I'm the Mom in a house with 5 kids, a Dad and a dog. This was more than our 15 minutes alone in the car together where you either fall asleep or scream your head off. We played. We ate lunch together. We snuggled. And I got to whisper to you "I love you" over and over again. I told you how smart you are. I told you that I was proud to be your "Mama" and you pointed to me and repeated "Mama" and then I said "Solana" and you pointed to yourself. And then you gave me a kiss and squealed in delight. And inhaled your sent, the baby detergent and the fine curls on your neck and I tried to burn the memory of how you felt in my arms deep into my brain.
This New Years Day marks time for us. Time that will fly by. A blip in your life, really, but likely a turning point in mine. In 30 days you will officially cease to be my responsibility and Caseworker #4 will come for their last visit with us and take you to live with your Daddy. I know your Daddy loves you and that you will be safe. I know that he will continue to let us see you and that you won't know anything has happened because you will live at his house and at ours. But that visit means you won't be our daughter and you will become the baby that we had to let go. The baby we never thought we wanted and had no idea that we needed. You completed our family in ways that I never could have imagined and its hard not to fear what a big gaping hole we might be left with.
But you were worth every moment. They will ask me how we could say goodbye? And I will say because she was worth it. Knowing that you will always know what a loving family felt like, what comforting touch and kisses were, that you flourished in a safe home, will be worth any amount of pain I feel about you leaving. They will ask "Didn't you get attached." And I will say, "Yes, that's what she needed. And I would do it again. I would crawl through glass to make sure she had the proper attachment." And they will say things like "I don't know how you do it" or "I could never do it" and I will simply shrug because you gave us such a gift, I can't imagine not doing it.
I didn't know we needed a baby. I had no idea how quickly love could come into my heart. I didn't know it was possible to love Daddy more until I heard him singing about turkeys while changing your diaper on that first day. I had no idea how helpful seeing a baby crying and parents caring for that baby would be to your siblings piece together unconditional love or at the very least, trust in parents who signed up for forever. I didn't know I could find joy in something as simple as watching you experience music. Even as you leave us, you are still teaching us to be better versions of ourselves, freer in our emotions and feelings, and generous in our compassion. It's been a privileged to be your Mama and its a privilege to be a part of your Daddy's support network. Only a special girl like you could make such a difference in so many people's lives.
You are destined for great things my little one. Great things.
All my love sweet pea,
Mommy R
"They will ask me how we could say goodbye? And I will say because she was worth it. "
ReplyDeleteOh... my heart aches and soars simultaneously reading this post. Aching for your loss, soaring from your beautiful, selfless, loving soul.