Our Precious Gift

There is something I am compelled to write about in the blog. Being a Mom. Yes, maybe it’s the red wine I am trying to drink up or maybe it’s the lack of human contact. But either way, I feel it should be documented.

No for me, it is not the first time at motherhood. I still remember Davis being born like it was yesterday. An overwhelming feeling of complete love and devotion. Something I have never felt before. The feeling of complete vulnerability. I still remember taking Davis for a walk in my subdivision and thinking of how I would feel if someone came and stole him. I remember thinking I could truly kill someone for this child…with my bare hands. I felt like a lioness protecting her cub.

I can tell you now how worried I was that those same feelings would not be there for an adopted child. Not that I thought I wasn’t capable, but it was the unknown. How could I possibly love something more than Davis? What if it’s because he is of blood relation? I can tell you now that blood doesn’t matter. I love her in the few days I have been alone with her like I gave birth to her. Hand picked from God, or by my Nanna, as my mom says. My Grandmother recently passed away and my mom always says I have an angel in heaven. I now believe her. Leah is exactly what my grandmother would have handpicked for me. My grandmother loves music and dancing…so does Leah. She always had a smile on her face….so does Leah. She was very funny and a total ham….so is Leah.

There is no doubt in my mind the decision to adopt (and Leah) was my destiny. I tried for many years to change this fate, but ultimately, this was what we were meant to do. It’s funny how when you are in the thick of a problem you can’t see the light at the end. Years later, the revelation happens.

I hope Leah never feels unwanted because her birthmother couldn’t care for her. I hope she feels connected with us and never feels like she missed out on something. I hope she knows how much Milon and I love her and how wanted she really was! This process of adoption is grueling. Truly harder than pregnancy and childbirth itself. I will even add ”my” pregnancy and childbirth!

So as I peer in on her sleeping, on our last night in her birthplace, her hometown, I look around and see what her future could have been. I pray that she and I have a mother-daughter relationship like my mom and I have. I hope she can always come to me and can tell me anything. I hope she knows that unconditionally we love her. I hope she knows that she is our precious gift from God.