My divine Miss M is 4 months old today.
I am sad to look at her pictures and know I have to wait such a long time yet to meet her. I am sad because I won't be able to hold her while she is so wee and vulnerable. She will be closer to one year old when I see her.
She may be wee, but I think my girl is a fighter--or a "little grafter" as my friend Colleen put it. She looks tough. Like she'll be okay until I get there. I have great faith in her caregivers. I have heard and seen how much love they give to the children. I know that it's a good thing if Myfanwy develops strong attachments in the foster home because it means she understands what love is and is able to trust. It also means that she and I will have a better chance of forming a strong attachment together. But, the thing is, my girl needs a mother. One person she will always belong with. One person totally devoted to her and her alone. One person who thinks about her every minute of every hour, 24/7. And that person is ME.
I stare at her pictures, look around my house and I am amazed to think she will one day be running through these rooms. Can this be true? Will this lovely girl be my daughter? She'll really be here? I imagine chasing her little, diapered bottom as she runs giggling away from me. I imagine her calling for me from her crib. I imagine her walking around in her footie pjs, her bunny trailing along the floor behind her. I imagine her banging away on the kitchen floor with pots and wooden spoons while I'm cooking. I imagine taking a nap with her on the couch. I imagine finally being one of the many neighbourhood women taking their kids out for a walk in the stroller.
It can't happen fast enough.
