Hannah, I wrote this for you today, 22nd February, 2017. You see, when I morphed into a parenting blogger, post infertility, my number one goal was to leave a diary, through this blog, of thoughts, feelings and experiences for you and your sister to read one day. So, this is for you, on your 4th birthday my love.
Little Bird, today you are 4 and I can’t quite believe it. In so many ways, it feels like you have always been apart of me and in other ways, I still can’t quite believe that I have the honour of calling you mine. My sweet, sweet little girl.
Your birthday will always be bitter sweet in some ways. It’s a day of celebrating you, but it also comes with a tinge of sadness.
Sadness because my heart goes out to your birth mom. I think of her often, but more so at this time of year. Remembering the turmoil that she must have been going through at your time of birth and later at you time of placement. Sadness, because this time, 4 years ago, you entered the world and I didn’t even know that something so significant, so life changing, so incredibly beautiful, was just about to be gifted to me.
I was always so very against Gotcha Days, until you were placed. But I sort of understand it now. We only found out about you a few weeks after your birth and it would be a long two months before we would hold you and know you and call you our own. So on some levels your homecoming day is even more significant for me. Because for two months after your birth, all I had of you were the hopes and dreams of who you’d be and the occasional photo from your place of safety.
And it was hard, Little Bird. As much as I loved every one of those photo’s, it was hard to look at them, at a cute little baby, but a stranger none the less and know that we were counting down to when you’d be our daughter. I was afraid and for the longest time, I worried about how I’d bond with you, how I’d love you. I knew I would love you, I knew I did love you, but looking at those photo’s was, in some ways, looking at a photo of a baby, a baby I did not know, a stranger.
And bringing you home to us was just as hard.
You really struggled with post placement stress and trauma and for a very long time, I feared I was not going to be able to do right by you. I was not going to be able to love you how I felt I should. I was not going to be able to bond with you.
But something happened in the last 4 years.
Last night, I was looking through all your photos. From before, in the place of safety and as I looked up and looked over at you, sitting at the table, with a colouring in book and crayons spread out around you, I was overwhelmed by my love for you, my sweet sweet little girl.
Happy birthday Little Bird.
You may be 4, but you’ll always be my little bird. My sweet, fragile, sensitive child. Sometimes I worry the world will crush you. You have such an incredibly soft, sensitive spirit, but that is a beautiful trait, don’t ever lose it my darling. Stay sweet and gentle because those that know you will worship that character in you.
Always be brave and be free. Don’t lose your free spirit, don’t toughen yourself for others. Always dance like no one is watching.
Always love as freely and unconditionally as you do now and those around you will love you for that too. You are braver than you know, stronger than you can imagine, brighter than the brightest star and more beautiful than you’ll ever believe.
While your big sister will always be the quirky child that will probably steal the limelight with her quirks and character, it’s your beautiful heart, your gentle soul that will always draw people to you.
Happy Birthday precious.