Becoming parents has been a funny process for us. Not least because the getting of the Babe has been so unusual and drawn out. If pregnancy provides 9 months to “get used to the idea” of having a baby, we’ve certainly had much longer than that. But it is only recently, very recently, that we have breathed a sigh of relief. The post-labor sigh of “Hello, my sweet daughter. It’s so good to be your mother.”
The mere act of having a child (biologically or through adoption) doesn’t make you a parent. That is, you might legally be a mother or a father, but becoming a parent is a bit different. One has to grow into it. To own it. It’s been a little like trying to get the focus tight, dialing the ring back and forth until the precise spot becomes clear. Sometimes it’s tricky to get things just right.
For so long my “motherhood” was hanging by a thread. Not that I didn’t have a “mother’s heart” or that I wasn’t being motherly to the Babe. But being her mother? I am still becoming.
On Wednesday last week, the appeal period expired. On Thursday the agency called us to inform us that nothing happened, nothing was filed! And on Friday, the birth mother was at last able to sign her release with peace, making Our Little Girl free for adoption. Yesterday, we signed the placement papers.
We prayed with the social worker after all the papers were shuffled away and I looked at the Babe, who was squeezing our hands during the prayers, “You’re stuck now, Kid!” and she giggled. We’ve never been happier to be stuck.
There has been a growing confidence in my heart, since the trial in January. A budding and blossoming awareness that I am a mother. But not just a mother–her mother. Her momma (her bababap). My heart overflows, knowing that I will be able to see our smiles reflected in her darling sloe-eyes for many years to come.
This, my dear ones, is Macia (MAH-shee-uh).
Our Daughter.
