Today is my eldest daughter Hannah's birthday, and so far today has been rather difficult. Being a birth mother is a hard job, you think about your child every day. Are they OK, how was school today, did she brush her teeth, eat her lunch, what if she was picked on and really needs a hug, did her forever mom give her one? When your child lives with you, these are the little things you take for granted, but as a birth mom, these are the little things you agonize over. And then there's the birthday, the hardest day of the year. The day you brought that beautiful child into this world, the day that more than any other day, you want to hug her, kiss her, and shower her with love. More often then not, birth mother's don't get the opportunity to do so.
Hannah was my first child, a baby that I had wanted my entire life. I couldn't wait to be a mother, and I couldn't have asked for a better child. She was a lovey baby, I breastfed and I secretly loved that only I could feed her. It was a special bond we had and I didn't want to share her. That was a good thing, because she didn't want anyone else either. We spent her first 21 months glued to each other. She slept in my bed, she played in my arms, she even had to go in the backpack when the house work or dinner needed to be done, because I of course, could never put her down. She was the unconditional love I had been longing for my whole life, and I couldn't imagine my world without her.
I cherished every little milestone, her first smile, her first giggle, first words, to first steps, she was amazing to me, and I thanked God everyday for giving her to me. She was a gift I could never repay. She was there with me through all my ups and downs, even the death of her sister Moriah, that I know hurt her almost as much as it hurt me. Unfortunately, after all we had been through, my trauma history caught up with me, and I began using substances to hide my suffering. I lost her and my other children, and now Hannah lives with her forever family. Her family isn't as open as Ashley's is with me, but I pray someday, I will be able to call her on her birthday and tell her I love her.
I regret every mistake I've made when it comes to my children, I'm sure every birth mother does. But today, today my hurts and regrets cut deeper than they usually do. I can't explain the pain of not holding my baby today. Even though that baby is 12 years old, they never grow old in our eyes, they are always our babies, right? My hope is someday, she can read this and know how sorry I am for not being there when she needed me the most, for not making the changes I've made sooner, that if I could turn back the clock, I would give my life to ease her pain. I hope today, Hannah knows, she is in my every thought and prayer, and my wish for her is that today is the happiest birthday she's ever had.
Happy Birthday Hannah! Mommy Loves You!