I pulled the picture down for Moonbeam to get a good look and took this as an opportunity to talk about how special Aurora is to her. That Aurora is her birth mom. That this means Moonbeam grew in her tummy and that Aurora loves her very much. That Moonbeam has two mommies - me, the mommy that takes care of her and loves her every day … and Aurora, the mommy that carried her in her tummy and who also loves Moonbeam every day.
Moonbeam looked at me and said very definitively, "No, I grew in mommy's tummy. In YOUR tummy."
This was hard. A lot harder than I expected it would ever be. I'd rehearsed this many times, told Moonbeam the story many times, but I swear this was the first time it really clicked with her.
And honestly, I felt so sad for her.
This is a lot for a 2.5 year old to process. She knows that everyone loves her very much and there is no doubt she feels comfortable in her own skin. She is a cherished child, spoiled rotten and very happy. I have no doubt that she lives a full, rich, happy life.
But as she contemplated this and stared at the picture, running her tiny little finger around the frame, I felt she understood. That yes babies grow in mommies' tummies - but that she didn't grow in HER mommy's tummy. That she realized something was different about her/us and that she didn't want to have to deal with it. That the difference in our relationship compared to that of other moms and kids was the first time she has had to confront adoption loss. And she's only 2 and a half. It's a lot.
I had a very hard time not holding her too close to me, not squeezing her too hard. So instead, I just sat with her and held her close and breathed, letting the moment wash over her, over me.
I put her to bed, closed the door and then let myself cry.
I had a very hard time not holding her too close to me, not squeezing her too hard. So instead, I just sat with her and held her close and breathed, letting the moment wash over her, over me.
I put her to bed, closed the door and then let myself cry.
And so here we are.
