Same Old Thing

I miss my Roo.

I haven't seen her in a month. This is the longest I've gone without a visit since placement. I'm spoiled, I know. Lots of birth moms don't get so many visits. But the other side of that is that I was her mother for 9 weeks before I placed her, so for a while there every second I spent away from her felt unbearable.

It's been exactly a month today. Roo was blessed by her daddy on the 13th of December. What a wonderful day that was! I replay it in my mind sometimes. I replay lots of things in my mind.

P and M have sent me quite a few Roo videos as well, and I replay those in reality rather frequently. I love to see her in action - smiling, babbling, chewing on a teething toy, sitting up, bouncing, swinging, looking generally delighted and adorable.

I think what's hard these days is that Roo is getting older - and bigger, and smarter, and cuter, and more interactive. When I was her mommy, she was tiny and new. She was adorable and fascinating, of course, but too little to do much or learn much. Now she's so much more entertaining and busy. Part of me wishes I had her with me so I could have that joy in my home - that fun energy that comes with having a 6-month-old. It would be so much fun to see her in my living room in a bouncy saucer.

But I have to remind myself that Roo is more important than fun. I couldn't risk her happiness to keep myself from feeling sad or empty. And I remind myself that, much as I'm the person I am today because I placed Roo, she is the happy, fun baby that she is because she has a mommy and daddy.

Still, I miss her. I miss getting to see that sweet little face every day. I miss watching her learn and grow and play. I miss being her mommy. I have a picture of Roo on my computer desktop, and most of the time when I turn my computer on, the sight of her sweet little smile makes me happy. But when I have a bad day ... when I have a bad day, I sit in front of my computer and stare at her picture and cry.

I know she's happy. I know she's loved. I cling to that when things get rough. I make myself step out of my selfish grief and remember why I chose adoption, and for whom. Roo is worth it. I know that. She is worth the tears and heartache. She is worth the bad days. She is worth missing.

And I miss her, and miss her.