Mother's Day 2008

Lately, I've been wishing I could hook a USB cable up to my head and do a mental download of all the sights and sounds William's birthmother has missed over the past few months. She has asked for photos of him on each of his birthdays, a request with which we are more than happy to comply. With them, we hope to send a letter detailing his growth, personality, and adjustment. There is just so much to show and tell.

I wish she could experience everything - the way his face tenses with anticipation then explodes into glee as I release him in the tree swing. I want her heart to ache at the pure, sweet sight of him sitting up in his crib, clapping his hands when he should be napping. I wish she could see how how frustrated he gets when he surveys his highchair tray and sees nothing he wants to eat. (For her sake, I might edit out his shrill whining. I could replace it with the sound of his purring like a cat when I rub my face against his soft belly.)

Unfortunately, mere words and pictures don't do these moments justice. On her first Mother's Day (do they celebrate Mother's Day in Taiwan? I don't know), I wish she could experience all of these things for herself. No doubt she longs for the same thing. As it is, through life's odd twists and turns, we are who we are, where we are, two mothers of the same beautiful boy. Mother's Day will never be the same for either of us again.