Appa and I woke up bleary eyed this morning from having been up at odd times during the night. Each time you wake up crying, I feel a mixture of weariness and fear. Weary of yet another sleepless night and fear of what might have caused you to cry. More often than not, Appa rushes to pick you before you wake your sister.
As we settle into trying to sleep your tiny body crawls all over us wanting to play. Your babble warms my heart. In the dead of the night when eyes are begging to close, clarity dawns. This is all I have wanted. Have wanted for a long time now.
This experience right down to the crankiness at night is something I have yearned for and longed. Wished for from the deepest innards of my being. In the first few days after you made us parents, I wondered how this thing called parental love was quantified. New mothers talk of this overpowering surge of emotion. A mama bear type of protectiveness. I struggled comparing what I felt with what I should be feeling and ending up feeling inadequate. There are times when I wonder if the word ‘adoptive’ will define our relationship rather than mom and daughters.
In moments like yesterday night, when I feel the full brunt of responsibility for you, when fear snakes itself through every ounce of my being, when eyes open at the sound of the first cry is when I realize what it is to be a mother. That love knows no boundaries. Related or not does not matter. What matters is that I chose to want this. Want this more than anything else. And no matter how many years pass, I will always fear for you and your happiness.
That is a privilege that you have bestowed on me and for that I will be grateful. Eternally.