An excerpt from my letters to Reese.
Thursday, December 19th – 7:54pm
It’s final. We went to court, the judge declared you mine, and me yours, forevermore. I cried. Mormor cried. Your Aunt Jenn and her mom Cathy drove up from Milwaukee to be in the room with us. Cappi made you laugh and laugh afterward.
It was easy, and joyous, and a snowstorm was starting outside. You wore an outfit Mormor bought for you months ago, and an off-white bow on your head – the one I use for pictures and special occasions.
You were so tired – on an already eventful day, you also had your six-month doctor’s appointment this morning which meant another round of shots. And you have this lingering cold and cough that kept you (and me) up last night. But you were so good, and patient, and tried to eat the microphone in the courtroom. When the judge made the final decree you were clinging to my shoulder and your Aunt Jenn said you smiled.
Later she asked what I was feeling: grateful, happy, disbelieving. With a wide lens, this is the end of a chapter that officially started three and a half years ago when I took the first step to adopting. But years before that I sat in my Austin apartment researching adoption as a single parent. I interviewed my boss who adopted her twin girls a decade earlier. I moved to Wisconsin hoping to be closer to family when I could parent someday. You’ve been in my heart, a growing wish, for nearly a decade.
It’s also the end of the chapter that included perhaps the worst heartbreak of my life. And then another break. It’s the end of the chapter I almost gave up on. And right before I did, just over a year ago now, I learned about you.
And here we are baby girl, six months to the day since I brought you home from the hospital. Today doesn’t change what’s been true for half a year – I’m your mama. Today doesn’t even change your name – it’s been Reese Troup Morgan since the moment you were born. Today is a formality, but a monumental one just the same because you have been monumental to me. The gift of my life. My rainbow baby. My gorgeous, clever, strong little girl. My daughter.
Like every night, I read you a story this evening and then sing to you while I tuck you into bed. I change the lyrics to a song ever slightly:
Today is our moment, now is our story
We’ll laugh and we’ll cry and we’ll sing
The chapter of my adoption journey comes to an end. Now is our story.
With Love,
Natalie