Monday, January 19, 2015

Pictures of You

"I've been looking so long at these pictures of you
That I almost believe that they're real
I've been living so long with my pictures of you
That I almost believe that the pictures are
All I can feel"
-The Cure

I take so many pictures of Miranda.  On my phone right now, I have 2,846.  And I recently went through and got rid of a lot.

I have very few pictures of Allie.  On my phone, I have the the portrait we got drawn of her and a few of her ultrasound pics.  And I never get rid of those.

Do I take so many picture of Miranda to compensate for the fact that I can't take any of her sister?

I don't think so.  I think I am just a proud Mama who thinks that every moment is cutest than the next and I don't want to risk forgetting a single detail.

Last week, Gary and I had our very first parent/teacher conference at Miranda's school.  We sat in itty bitty chairs and reviewed how she is doing.  There were no surprises. They love having her as much as she adores going there.  She is social and she likes to sing and dance - even when there is no music playing. She is kind and has a good heart and is a joy to be around.  We were there 25 minutes or so, but could have easily stayed all day to listen to the praise!

I found myself wanting to tell her teacher that she was adopted.  It kept popping into my head to say.  But I bit my tongue.  I really think Miranda is who she is because of how she is being raised and because of how much she is loved.  I think she came to us with a strong genetic framework, but overall, Miranda really is us.  There is a fine line between being grateful that we were chosen to raise her and to not even think much about that at all because plain and simple...we are her parents.

Miranda is starting to climb out of her crib.  Like really climb out.  One leg over and straddling the crib rails during her nap yesterday.  For a brief moment, in-between posting on Facebook to see what we should do and calling my mom for advice and scouring the Internet, it flashed into my mind that if Allie had lived, we would have already been through this stage and I would know what to do. Then I stopped.  That kind of thinking does no one any good.  And we will never know what kind of child Allie would have been.  Maybe at almost 4, she would still be in her crib! We just don't know.

It's the not knowing that still tugs at my heart.

What I do know is this...I have a daughter here who loves me and needs me and so I shall keep taking her picture and opening my heart to her and teaching her about love and compassion and humor and kindness and all the other traits that I think will make her the most amazing girl.  All of the traits that already do...

No comments:

Post a Comment

The Grief Bomb

For years after Allie died, I was worried about each and every pregnant person that I knew. Or read about. Or heard a story about. If I sa...