Pictures

In the nine weeks that I had Roo, I took more than 1200 pictures. There are probably a few children who have been more often photographed - Suri Cruise comes to mind - but I think that I may have set a record with Roo because of the space of time in which the pictures were taken.

Since placement, I have looked at those pictures a lot. Not every day, but every other day, I think. And I have cried. It's hard to see those pictures and not miss her desperately. It's hard to see pictures of her in her crib, in her car seat, in the Pack and Play, and think that she will never be in them again. It's hard to see pictures of her in my arms as well, but at least I know I'll get to hold her again plenty. But when I hold her again, as when I held her on my first visit, it will not be as her mommy, but as her birth mother.

Last night, I looked at my Roo pictures. And for the first time, I didn't cry.

I felt that certain acute sadness, an emptiness, to which I am accustomed. But there were no tears. My time with Roo seemed so long ago. It was a strange feeling. It was kind of nice not to fall apart, but at the same time I mourned the loss of such strong emotions. It's hard to explain. I'm glad that I was able to just enjoy looking at the pictures and not cry, but I feel like when things get easier it means I'm losing some of the strong emotional ties I have to Roo, and it scares me a little. But I think that that, too, will get easier for me with time. Soon enough it won't bother me that I don't cry.

P and M had family pictures taken last week and they sent me some of the pictures of Roo. She looked so right with them - they are her family, and she is their baby. She is getting so big. Her little belly hung over the waistband of her skirt, and her cheeks are as round as ever. She looks happy and healthy. They are the best pictures I could have asked for. I have looked at them more than a dozen times. But they have never made me cry.

I have it figured out. My pictures make me cry because they are of my baby, and I miss my baby. But the pictures P and M sent me are of their baby - not mine - and I can't possibly miss someone else's baby. I think I prefer their baby. She's got the whole world open to her, she has two parents who love her, and she is content. I think sometimes I cry for my baby because of all that I wasn't able to give her by myself.

I hope and pray that someday I will have another baby, one to whom I can give the world. And in the meantime, I am thankful that I was able to give my baby the world, even if it meant giving her up.