Christmas

Every Christmas I have to the same struggle with what to get my family members and friends as the perfect gift. This year has brought even more challenge.

What do I get for the mother of my daughter that says "Thank you for raising my baby- the most important thing in my life- for loving her as your own, for waking up in the middle of the night to feed or change her, for committing your time, energy, love, patience, and sanity, to make her the person she's meant to become for the rest of her life"?

Everything I think of seems cheap. Insufficient. Insincere. Many will want to say "oh, but you've given her your first child, what more of a gift could you give than that?" But there is so much love and gratitude in my heart for this woman I didn't even know a year ago but am now so close and emotionally intertwined with I feel there must be some way to show that and thank her for being the most important person to that little girl who is most important to me. I know she'll love whatever I chose I just want it to be perfect!

Mondays :)

Yesterdays visit went significantly better than expected. It was actually quite lovely. I got to play with Emilia's big sister and her friend a bunch. We made paper snowflake which is one of my favorite past times. There was that little twinge of sadness yet again when Em won't really smile at me. She's teething and going through a growth spurt so she's less smiley these days. One of my dear friends came to meet my little lady for the first time. That pretty much made my day because she's the one who carried me through my pregnancy, introduced me to the adoptive parents, and never left my side despite her own three kids and pregnancy. Her youngest, who is three months older than Emi, came along as well which was pretty adorable. I'm not sure she's ever seen someone her own size (well, I bit smaller. My little lady's not so little =] She's going to be a nice long swimmer some day). It was very cute. Plus my friend told me she saw the resemblance between Emilia and me which is a big deal because 1) her birth-daddy is a Mexican who's genes tend to dominate my poor little caucasian ones, and 2) that is the greatest thing you could ever say to a birth-mom! Anyways, all and all it was a delightful day. Can't wait for next week's rollercoaster.

Mondays...

I'm sort of dreading todays visit. 


Last time I went over I saw their four perfect stockings hanging on the mantle. It was all their tradition. This is what I wanted for my baby. This is what I still want with every fiber of my being-- for her to grow up with an awesome mom and day who love each other and have a healthy example of a relationship. For them to raise her and her sister with their own strong, loving, amazing, functional family. For them to grow up and have their traditions, fights, celebrations, tears, love, all in each others arms. That being said, it absolutely KILLS ME. It kills me that she won't be part of the family and traditions I was raised to love. How is it possible for everything in me to want two completely conflicting things? Things that can not possibly co-exist peacefully in this world?


 Today I was looking at pictures Emilia's birth father and I took with her and she has this same expression in all of them. Sort of like "who the hell are these people trying to pass us off as some happy little family"?  Then I look at pictures of her while she's with her real family going on their Christmas tradition tree-cutting adventure and she's so happy and smiling and awake. Somehow it seems whenever I'm even over there she's asleep most of the time. Granted her mom said it took her several days to recover from the tree day because she only got 15 minute naps instead of a couple hours but why does she push (okay, I know that's an unnecessarily harsh word choice but you get my drift) Emilia to stay awake for things like that but not me? Even while I'm writing this I know I would NEVER want her to make my little lady grumpy  and sleep deprived its just... I'm not sure. Jealousy? Bitterness? Emptiness? A dash of each? Who knows. 


Why do I let something so insignificant like a giant sock on a fireplace make me hurt so deep inside my heart I didn't even know it was possible? I'm hoping tomorrow will go more smoothly than last week inside this crazy, emotional head of mine. I am so excited to see my daughter and her family. It makes me so happy and I just feel at peace with all my decisions up to this point. It's like a weekly reminder I chose the right path for my daughter. The only crap part is this gut-wrenching feeling that hitchhikes alongside my happiness. Will that ever go away or at least hurt less?