I'm a wreck. I've been a wreck the past few weeks and it's only getting harder.
I have never done this before and had no idea that it was going to be this hard.
Except it is.
And so I had to wear sunglasses into Target since the tears are coming so easily...and fall randomly...and my mind and heart cannot escape the reality of what is about to happen.
My daughter is turning two.
Our daughter is turning two.
There's a birthday about to come and it will be her first where there's a celebration and a cake and a family...her family.
But there's someone else that will not be there that's so much more deserving than I am of being the one to see her stick her fingers into the cake and blush at each bit of attention that is lavished upon her. Someone that won't be present as we honor her heritage and sing in her ears.
Her birth mother.
Her precious birth mother.
The two of us have more in common than I've been able to put into words.
We both have had pregnancies that were hard. Where abortion was an option due to hard circumstances...but where we both chose life.
And...and then...we both had to say good-bye and somehow trust that the hands that would now be caring for our darling girls would provide them more joy and care than we ever could.
...Accept I have.
I've learned painfully what it is to know that the glorious day of your daughter's birth is coming without her there with you. I've done it six times so far. I know what it is to ache for her to be in the arms that birthed her once more. I know the intense grief of loving someone that you'll never see again this side of Heaven. I know the what ifs...the questions without answers...the unfairness of this fallen world. I know how the anticipation of that day weighs on you...how you remember every moment leading up to it. I know the kicks and hiccups and baby belly rolls...and then the emptiness that never seems to end.
And so I hurt deeply for the woman that is experiencing those same emotions right now. I hurt that she doesn't see what I see. I hurt that she is missing this...I hurt because I know.
Our daughter will know this too one day...and I pray she sees it as the redemption that it is...and has the same admiration and respect for the woman God chose to bring her into this world that I do.
Oh precious mother that loved her first...I hurt with you, remember with you, celebrate for you and I am carrying you, too. My deepest prayer is that you know the love and the joy and the light that our daughter has now...and that, Lord willing, one day in Glory we celebrate together.