You are officially three months away from your fifteenth birthday and and maybe two and a half months to the start of your freshman year of high school.
I know you’re not with me. I know I’ve missed your entire life but you’re still my baby. You’re still very much a huge part of my life. You’re the reason why I make certain decisions. Why I try to position myself on a path to propel my career because as I’ve mentioned before, I want you to be proud of me. I want you to understand why I had to make the decisions I made when you were born and throughout my life.
I assure you I’m doing my best to not make giving you up for adoption seem selfish or in vain, even though I’m out sure there’s anything I could really do to remedy that. I’ve imagined our first meeting over and over and over again. Each time it was a different scenario. Each time I felt even more uncertain about your reaction than the previous time. I know I can’t do that to myself but it’s what I think about. It’s what I feel. It’s what I imagine when my co worker talks about her daughter.
One day we’ll meet. And I’ll totally ill prepared for the moment. I’ll fumbled over my words. Probably curse waaaay more than you’re use to with your parents. I apologize now baby girl. Yo mama curse like an effn sailor! It’ll be awkward because I’m slightly awkward and weird. Perhaps we’ll bond on the similarities of our personality. Perhaps this meeting if it happens will be less scary than I’m anticipating. Perhaps just perhaps you won’t be as angry and hurt as I have made myself to believe.
At least I hope….