Day 357: Flyin By

This week I have been struggling with something non-deployment related. I have known for many years that I would not be able to ever carry a biological child. I have grieved off and on over that. But I have had a feeling since I was in high school that I would never get pregnant. Maybe my body knew that things inside were irreparably damaged from my birth defects and complications. In any case, I hoped and prayed over having a baby for many years.

Last spring we were selected by a birth mother and six weeks later, we had Lil Bit. After the expense of adoption, I knew working this year was going to be a must; I knew working this year would be emotionally challenging; I had no idea how much it would hurt. The first day of putting her into daycare was a nightmare. My generally happy baby was a disaster. I picked her up and she was furiously fussy. She screamed and cried for hours. I literally sat in her rocking chair, clutching her and sobbing. Chad just kept walking past making sure I was all right. He finally walked in, kissed me on my head and said if you're waiting for permission to quit, do what you gotta do. Of course, if quitting was realistically an option I would have done it in July so they had enough time to replace me. However, if she didn't start adjusting to daycare, I was going to have to reconsider.

Lil Bit isn't the only one having a hard time adjusting. This weekend some developmental switch flipped in her and she has become very responsive. She has always been pretty alert. Even when she was a preemie and slept 22 hours a day, the minutes she was awake, she was bright eyed, watching everything. Sunday especially I noticed her playing with her toys, reaching for them. Her giggles and coos are musical. I who have to be constantly engaged with TV, cell phone, laptop - have turned everything off just to talk with her. My DVR is hopelessly full.

4:30 tonight, I walked to my car and started driving toward her school. Honking the horn and trying to make all five lights in between my school and hers, I felt like if I didn't get to her right then, I was going to cry. When I saw her, I had to just stand still and hold her. Five minutes, then ten. Other parents are weaving around me to pick up their children and I stand in front of her crib, blinking back tears. I don't know how I am going to do it tomorrow. When I wake her up in the morning, I just want to snuzzle her, watch her giggle, listen to her talk to her fingers. They have very intellectual conversations you know.

More than just normal motherly guilt, I waited 15 years for her. I spent more than an entire year's salary to adopt her and some of Chad's. Now I am missing this most precious time in her life. I love teaching and think I am very good at it, but I have never felt more like me than when I am with her. She and I every evening just together. While I would never wish for Chad to miss a second, I do feel like God blessed me with her in my life right now. Tonight I played 80s one hit wonders, sang poorly and loudly while we splashed all the water out of her tub and couldn't have been happier. I realized the other day that all the memories that make up me, the fall on my bike or the jumping down the stairs trying to fly or watching my mom stir breakfast over the stove on icy Chicago mornings, those moments of my childhood - these days, these moments are the images, feelings, impressions and eventually memories that she will carry like a suitcase with her into the world. It is my job to fill that suitcase with as much love and happiness as she can hold. I have an idea of who I want her to remember her mom being when she was little - fun, silly, spontaneous, gentle - THERE.

I have tried to find a way to finagle our finances, but I can't make money out of thin air. I am a budgeting genius when I need to be, but I am not magical. If I want to be able to stay home with her for a year or two someday, I have to get rid of our car payments. I need to build up some savings again and plan for a few lean years. I don't know how I am going to make it. I must watch the video of her from Sunday morning two - three times a day. By lunchtime I need to see her. My heart hurts and there is nothing I can do but survive it. One of my student's has Asperger's and his goal for today was to live through it. While he is a tad dramatic, I completely understand. I feel like I am counting days, days of school when I have to be away from her, days Chad is gone.

Uno, dos, tres, quattro, cinco . . ." Her daughters are a teacher, a nurse, a physician's assistant. We are the product of a mom who gave everything for us. Doesn't my daughter deserve the same?  I am left crying and answerless. I have no more hands to juggle all these balls and can't find a mystical answer tonight. Many other women will sympathize and say, but I went back to work, suck it up, but they won't understand the ache in my heart that she filled and that I literally think I would rather be broke and home than leave her one more day.

No pithy ending - just alone listening to her snifflely breathing over the monitor trying to resist waking her for more hugs. She and I both need the sleep. Maybe just one more peek and peck. It is never enough! Have you seen those cheeks!?! This first year, this sweetest, baby year is already FLYIN' BY and I just want it to stop. I want to freeze that hour when she is all smiles and alert and thinks I am just everything. Like a popsicle in Texas, it will be gone before I even realize how sweet it was.