It was one of those cases of being "all dressed up, with nowhere to go." Nora's nose was running too much, and by the time we got to church she was already flaked out in the carseat. I left the boys there and took her back to bed. She's obviously still not well enough from her cold.
I asked Scott to take her photo regardless, to celebrate turning a month older.
Nora made a quick trip outside to supervise the boys doing their yardwork.
She enjoys Thomas immensely.
He had a hard time holding onto Nora as she struggled to explore the yard... not in that outfit, sorry!
I love that these two love each other!
While Nora was enjoying her time with Daddy, I was working an evening shift. Yes, in one month's time I've worked 8.5 shifts, and survived! It's been somewhat exhausting to wrap my mind around nursing mode and being on my feet so much. Having begun to figure out the new personalities of the residents, I think the hardest part of returning is over, as I can now anticipate more of what to expect.
During my time in one of the "cottages", I overheard the care aid reading a book to the residents about different kinds of love. When discussing the love between mother and child, my heart was pricked as she read how a baby knows the sound of her mother's voice within hours of being born. How the first language she hears will always impact her, no matter who speaks it... something like that. Of course, no one would suspect that such information would affect my over-sensitive nature as I immediately thought of Nora. Feeling sadness that she'll likely never hear her birth mother's voice again... and wishing that she could have heard my voice so many months prior to being 10 months old. Recognizing the loss of her first language, regardless of whether she had the chance to speak it yet. Knowing that I can't replace that for her, despite all that I can give.
I walked into a different room to squelch my thoughts, telling myself that there is nothing I can do about that. It's the way it was, and the way it is now. But I can grieve on Nora's behalf, and oversensitive or not, I need to be aware of these things so that I can give empathy and understanding to Nora when out-of-the-blue she hears an innocent comment that silently stirs up sadness. I pray that her birth mother will have peace in her heart when she thinks of the daughter she couldn't keep, for the reason(s) I will never know. My forever gratitude to you. Here's a poem about a possible scenario... I hope you will tolerate my melancholy thoughts this evening.
A Mother's Love
She left you one morning,
She had no choice.
In a country of millions
She had just one voice.
The law made it clear
One child would do.
To obey it would mean
No hope for you.
As she laid you down
Her eyes became blurried.
On saying goodbye
Said don't you worry.
Another will come
To take my place.
A mother will come
From a different race.
She'll hold you and love you
As if you're her own.
She'll take you away
To a brand new home.
She then ran away
Her heart broke in two.
Don't ever forget
Of my love for you.
Tom Fisher
© April 2, 2002
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