Somewhere out there…

I have a friend who is pregnant and due in November (the time I originally thought we’d have our first placement). I watch her belly grow and think, “that’s how big my baby could be right now.” I wonder, have you been to a doctor?  Are you getting the vitamins you need?

I look down and know that if a baby was growing inside me, I would place my hand on my belly and sing to the little one.

Tonight, getting myself a snack at 11pm, I thought, “I’m soooo hungry.”

Really, Erat, you’re soooo hungry? (Then I feel like a greedy, easily 30 pound overweight, American.)

Then, I think about our future child.  The child that is out there somewhere and will come into our home someday soon.

What are you doing, little one? Have you had enough to eat today? Is your belly full?

I stand in our kitchen and cry for you. I cry for me, that I can’t help you.

I think about our little one often during the day, but most often at night. Maybe because night-time is when I think our new routine will be most different than it is now. Maybe it’s because night-time routines are all about comfort and safety.

Brushing my teeth (the time I think about you almost every day), I wonder if you have a bedtime routine. Putting on my pajamas, I wonder if you have a favorite stuffed animal. Do you have a night-light? Has anyone made you laugh today?

Do you feel safe? Do you feel loved?

When I am with other people, I close my eyes and send good thoughts to you. When I am alone, I’ve held up my hand, touching the belly of the universe.

Oh, little one, you are so loved.  Can you feel it? Can you feel me sending my love to you?

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About EratMama

30 something midwestern gal, married to another 30 something midwestern gal, conquering depression, rockin' foster parent.
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2 Responses to Somewhere out there…

  1. Mama Drama says:

    Sometimes I think about the parents who are making choices tonight that have set them, and their child on a course towards me, the foster parent, who will get a call in a few weeks or months when their choices catch up with them. The trajectory is already set in motion and they don’t even know it…..It’s very strange being a foster parent sometimes.

  2. erathora says:

    Exactly mama drama. It’s a little surreal. These separate lives that will one day intertwine.

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