Munchkin,
Today you turn four.
I wish I had something profound to say. Something deep. Or meaningful. But the truth?
This is not an easy day for me. I’m awash in memories. All I did was blink and you went from a beautiful baby in my arms to this tall, lanky, amazing little girl with opinions and personality and talent and love for just about everything and everyone. And I’m feeling very angry with myself.
Who gives their baby away? Who honestly does that?
People keep telling me that this gets easier. That hasn’t been my experience. I just get more and more shocked with myself that I let you go. Why didn’t I understand the mother-child bond? Why didn’t I recognize the lies that the agency was feeding? Why why why?
And so, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be all melancholy and self-focused on your special day. I’m sure the postpartum hormones and the presence of a little baby who weighs just over what you did on this day four years ago (since he’s finally growing!) are catching me off guard.
I wish the world for you, Miss Munchkin. I’m just sorry I wasn’t the one to give it to you.
Happy Birthday.
Love, Me.
