Yesterday you told me that you love us... and there are a few things I need to ask you.
Do you know how much I love your son? No. You couldn't possibly.
Do you know that I relish in his sweet baby scent?
Do you know I look forward to our 3am snuggles, even more so as they're happening less and less?
Do you know how deeply the sound of his sweet cries and coos have filled my heart? It's overflowing!
Do you know that I celebrate his milestones like he's winning gold medals?
Do you know that I smother him with kisses every day, asking him to store them in his chubby cheeks for the days that he's with you?
Do you know that I weep?
I weep when I kiss his cheeks. I weep when I tell him I love him. I weep when I hear about your success. And I weep simply because I'm weeping.
I want you to know that I have given this boy my heart. I have not held back or guarded my love as I've cared for him. I have bonded with him deeply, and his sweet smile melts my heart every time as I fall deeper and deeper for him. When he goes home to you, whenever that day comes, my beating heart will stop for a brief moment as I process the loss of your son who I have loved. I will spend weeks and months picking up broken pieces of who I was when he was in my arms. I will think about him every minute and miss him for the rest of my life. I will never stop loving him.
This... loving your son while you work so hard to bring him home... This is not easy.
Mama, I want you to know that you're worth it. I need you to know that I'm on your team. I support you and I pray daily for your success.
I didn't always feel that way. There have been days that I've been angry, days that I've begged for this child to stay in our home and become our son... and I think I've figured out that I'm afraid of you, of the threat you carry to break up this family of four that I've grown to love so much. I understand now what that means for you. I understand that means great loss for you, that my desire for this sweet boy to be mine comes at the detriment of your success, your health.
My pain is merely a glimpse of the pain you have experienced these three months as a stranger has cared for your son. I can't understand, I will never know what you've been through and I would never claim to.
But I imagine you have a letter with a similar title, though it is written to the mama who took your son. I imagine the content is very different, I imagine your heart aches to depths mine can't even fathom.
I couldn't possibly know how much love you have in your heart for this precious boy you carried and nurtured for nine months...
...but I know you would trade your rest for the sleepless nights of snuggling this snuggle-bug.
I know you would trade your peaceful quiet for the cries and coos that this little man has brought to our home.
I know you would do anything, and you ARE, to have his sweet baby scent fill your rooms.
I know that when I celebrate his milestones, you are mourning because you're not here for them.
I know that when I kiss his cheeks, you are far away longing for the opportunity to smother his sweet face with kisses.
I know that you weep. I've seen you weep.
And I weep for you...
I have come to love that this baby boy has your face. When I look at him, I see you. When I pray for him, I'm praying for you. When I celebrate his milestones, I'm also celebrating yours. When I'm filled with pride for him, I am so very proud of you. And when I love him, I'm loving you, too.
Yesterday you told me that you love us.
We love you too, Mama.