Christmas can be an amazing time, particularly if you have kids. The excitement and anticipation fuelled by magic and sparkle and too much chocolate is one of the best feelings in the world. It’s a time for families to get together and make wonderful memories. Who doesn’t remember at least one childhood Christmas experience with great fondness?
It is also a time for reflection. This has been our third Christmas with our precious daughter. The first one was a bit of a disaster. My mum had a mini stroke the week before and hubby managed to get pneumonia on Boxing Day. We still managed to sneak in some amazing memories though of her first magical Christmas.
Our second Christmas threw a nasty sinus infection, panic attacks and a trip to the walk in centre and was clouded by us having to make the life changing decision about whether to expand our family. The thing that got us through was seeing our daughter’s face light up each day.
This Christmas has been more like what I had hoped all our Christmases with our daughter would be like. Filled with fun, laughter, magic and sparkle and of course the odd toddler tantrum thrown in to bring us back to reality. There were no trips to any type of hospital by any members of the family which was a huge relief.
Feeling so blessed and lucky to have been picked to be parents to our daughter has made me think a lot about her birth family and her birth mum in particular. I can’t imagine what it must have been like for her on Christmas morning knowing she won’t be able to share any of the excitement, laughter and fun with all of the children she gave birth to.
I wonder whether she thought about little Miss. If she did, did she hope she’s having an amazing time and that she’s happy, healthy and content? I hope that’s how she felt for at least some of the time. I hope she’s read the updates that we’ve sent and that she knows what an amazing little girl little Miss is growing into.
My worst fear is that she didn’t think of her at all. That she’s blocked her out of her mind so that she doesn’t exist to her anymore. That thought breaks my heart. I can’t begin to understand how utterly hideous an experience it is to have your child removed from your care, whatever the reason. How do you move on? How do you get on with your life knowing someone else is experiencing the amazing rollercoaster of parenting a child you gave birth to?
I really hope she has been able to move on. I hope she is content and doing ok. Most of all though, I hope she does wish little Miss the happy, healthy and magical childhood that she deserves. I hope that when she looks up at the stars, she thinks of little Miss and knows that she’s doing ok.