An Open Letter to My Future Child

Dear Future Daughter,

This adoption thing is a weird and beautiful adventure.  In future years, you will hear me tell you a lot about how you grew in my heart instead of my tummy.  It’s a cliché, but trust me, Child, it is oh so true!  I don’t know when you will be conceived in your Tummy Mommy’s womb, but you were a twinkle in my heart for 20 years before you were conceived in my heart on 9/9/15.

I wish I could put into words the feelings that I had at the moment of your heart conception.  It’s probably similar to what a Tummy Mommy feels who’s longed for a baby and then discovers that a life is growing in her womb.  My heart felt like it grew 10 sizes and was full of a warmth I’d never known.  I felt full of life.  I knew I was finally ready to be unselfish enough to give you the life you deserve.  Of course, your conception in my heart caused tears to pour out of my eyes.  Those same tears will likely wet your little face the first moment I finally get to hold you in my arms.  My arms are so lonely for you.

Oh, the preparations being made for you, my Little Love!  I’m working and scrimping and saving money.  Friends and family are helping to raise funds.  Wait until I show you the puzzle they are preparing for you!  I’ve gotten you a beautiful second-hand crib and already hung pictures on your walls.  We’re even re-carpeting the bedrooms to make sure your tiny hands, knees and feet have a nice, clean, soft place to explore.  Sometimes when I go into the nursery I can almost sense you there – somewhere in the future.  I can almost hear your coos and giggles and see your smile.  Sometimes my heart can even sense your future cries.  Sometimes – almost like a vapor – I can see you holding the crib railing and bouncing with excitement because Mommy has come to rescue you from nap time.

Other times though, it feels like you are nothing but a far-away cloud that I may never reach.  Even so, I’m heading your way, Baby Girl.  I’m believing I will get to you somehow.

You may wonder how I can love you and prepare for you when in many ways right now you are still just a dream in Mommy’s heart.  You are most likely not even a flicker of life in a womb yet.  It’s simply the wonders of a mother’s love.  Right now, Precious One, I am a Mommy with empty arms.  When we meet, I think my heart will recognize you instantly just like a Tummy Mommy would.  Don’t worry if I don’t seem familiar to you right away.  We will find our way together.

I’ll see you down the road, my Love.

Love,

Mommy

To participate in helping to bring baby home, please go to: gofundme.com/babyforBethany

for this child

Leave a comment