I hold you so close...as much as you allow anymore...as often as I can, still afraid you may disappear. You are all heat and rounded corners and squirmy, kicking legs. I have changed the diapers, fed you over and over again, soothed the tears, sung 'You Are My Sunshine' until my throat has given up, kissed your sweet, fuzzy head while you slept a million times. I am your mom. But I am also not. You have been with me since you took your first breath. I was in the delivery room, I cut the cord. It still doesn't make you mine. I have to wait a few more weeks and go before a judge for that to happen. For the law to recognize that you are mine.
I'm still waiting for the moment when I truly believe it. Waiting for the moment it seems real.
I have waited a lifetime to be someone's mom. I had accepted that it would likely never happen. Then you fall from the sky, a wish answered. I cannot believe my luck. I cannot believe that there is a day, in the not to distant future, when you will say mama and mean me. I cannot believe how your arrival has made me fall even more in love with your dad, more than I thought was possible. He is a big man, and you are so tiny sweet girl. But I've never seen someone so gentle. He loves you so much that it is almost heartbreaking to see. You make him laugh and you make him a little crazy too. It is a sight I never thought I'd see. It was so worth the wait.
You, my dearest girl, are loved beyond your wildest imagination. And one day soon, I hope I finally feel that you are officially mine.