I’m trying to collect bits and pieces of her to store it in a box.
She has blonde hair. This goes in the box.
She was about 4’11 ft tall. That goes in the box.
She was a meth user. That… that probably won’t go in the box.
It’s a feeling hard to describe, this unspoken bond I feel I have to his birth-mother. I’m desperate to know anything about her but we can’t. It ended up to be much like a closed adoption. I hold on to the hope that one day she will be open to a picture… and maybe even one day meeting us.
I ask the nurses that were there for his delivery. Everything happened so fast, they all say. Some saw her. Some were too busy. Some were too mad at her for the words that came out of her mouth. But one, one saw her. I asked about her complexion and I hurried to catch every word to store it in my invisible box.
One day he’ll want to know.
I look at my precious baby boy as he lays peacefully on my chest. I kiss him and smell his baby scented skin. I think of her and thank her as if she could hear my thoughts.
I pray she heals; her mind, her body, her spirit. I pray she gets to know Jesus. I pray for her other babies. I pray that she knows just how much I’m grateful for her life.
He smiles in his sleep. Sometimes it’s a side smile, with one side of his lip raised. Sometimes his whole little mouth smiles. I tell the nurses he must be dreaming of an unlimited supply of cows. He’s strong willed, so far. He know what he wants. But he knows just how to tug at my heart strings. My sweet angel managed to make me blur out all the crying babies, talking nurses, and incessant beeping machines as he tightly held on to my finger and stared right into my eyes. I know you’re my momma, his eyes translated to my heart.
I wonder if she thinks of him. She never wanted to see him, so she doesn’t know just how handsome, sweet, and adorable he is. His hair has shades of red and blonde. His nose so perfectly shaped. I walk around the NICU as I wear my baby and the nurses say that he’s starting to look like us, my face glows with the biggest smile and I look at him, he’s a reflection of my husband and I, but will always have something from his birth momma, and I’d like to think it’s her smile.