I can hear your heart beating.
It soothes me. It's always there, the beat.
As I fall asleep, it lulls me. When I wake, it greets me.

Sometimes, I hear other sounds.
I think it's your voice.
Sometimes, it's very loud, and it scares me,
But other times, it's soft and soothing, and I feel safe and loved.

I like the most when you laugh.
I like the sound, and when you laugh really hard, I get bounced around. It's fun.

I don't like it when you cry. It makes me sad, too.
I love it when you sing to me.

I'm getting a lot bigger now. I have these new things that I can suck on.
(I'll know later that they're thumbs.)
I can't wait to see you.

It's really getting crowded in here. I can barely stretch out at all.

Hey!! What's that?? NO! It's cold out here! I don't like it! All these people are touching me.
Where are you?!? I keep crying and crying, but you don't come.

Someone's holding me, but she doesn't smell like you or sound like you.
If I keep calling for you, will you answer?
It seems like forever since I left that warm, safe place.
I never hear your voice anymore.
I feel all alone.

The arms that hold me feel nice, though, and her voice is really loving.
The way she looks at me... it makes me feel better.
Is it okay that I like her, even love her?
She's very kind. She is watching me grow up.
She fixes my scrapes, and gives me hugs. I still miss you.
Is it okay that I call her Mommy? She tells me about you. Not much, but that you loved me. You were young, and need me to live with her and Daddy because you wanted me to have a better life than you could give me.
I think I understand. I hope that you're okay, and that you know I love you.

When I say my prayers with Mommy, I don't tell her that I pray for you, my other mommy. I'm afraid it would hurt her feelings. Maybe not, but I tell only God. I ask him if maybe, someday, I can see you. Maybe you can finally hold me, even if it's only to finally say, "Goodbye".

© 2001