Friday, February 25, 2011

Sometimes I think about the time I missed...

There have been a few times in the last few weeks where I think a lot about the time I missed with her. Little girl is coming up on 9 months old and I can't believe it, as of right now we've had her more than we haven't had her but still I would have liked to know her as a newborn. I couldn't even imagine the sweetness. I wonder what she looked like all curled up in a little newborn ball...probably like heaven. She's heaven now so I can't imagine heaven as a newborn...so squirmy and soft with a smell that's to die for. Being able to compare her personality and advancements.
I would imagine that once things are finalized with the adoption I'll be a little more gutsy about the information I want from FM. I want to know if she has any photos of her as a newborn, I want to know what the birth fathers name and ethnicity is too. For now, I'll stay silent my questions waiting to be answered until she is legally and officially ours. I'm a little weird about that.
I mentioned in a previous post that I encounter people with testicular fortitude who have said ignorant things like..."I bet you're glad you missed out on the whole waking up every two hours newborn thing?" or "Hey you had it easy not having to deal with a newborn". Ummmm actually I'm not glad that I missed out on it and something tells me that you wouldn't trade your time with your brand new baby for the world. Sleep deprivation and adjustment comes with the territory of being a new mom whether you have a newborn, four month old or a four year old. Oh what I would pay to have my thoughts be read by people when they're talking to me about these things.
Last night when I arrived home from work she had given Tyler a little bit of a run for his money (he's very schedule oriented and she was not following the schedule, and it was a new schedule) so I decided to finish up the bedtime ritual of Goodnight Moon and some quiet time. When I laid her down in bed I told her I loved her and then ran my fingers along her soft little face and she smiled at me through her pacifier. These moments are the ones I live for. The ones I hope to remember at times when she's really pissing me off. The ones that I can share with her when she's older. She'll always be the one who made me a mama.

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