Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 83612 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 418(@200wpm)___ 334(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83612 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 418(@200wpm)___ 334(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
I’m not too late.
There’s still time to show up.
Still time to listen.
Still time to choose this table over everything else.
“This is really good,” I tell Bellamy, taking another bite. “You’ve outdone yourself.”
She beams, and for a second, I see the little girl who used to drag a stool across the kitchen floor just to help stir pancake batter.
This is my family. I look around the table. At Reid, already halfway through his second helping. At Bellamy, glowing in the soft kitchen light. At Coral, who’s determinedly smearing green beans across her tray.
They are what matters.
When I drive home tonight, it won’t be with the weight of what I missed pressing down on my chest. It will be with my heart so full of love that it feels as though it could burst. My belly will be full of a delicious meal, and the weight on my shoulders will be a little lighter.
And for the first time in a long time, I won’t feel like I’m on the outside looking in. Because I accepted the invitation and I’m exactly where I’m meant to be.
Six
Amanda
* * *
I smile as Mia crawls to the couch and lifts herself up to standing. She glances back at me to see if I’m watching before she continues her mission. She grips the cushion with both hands, her tiny fingers pressing into the fabric as she steadies herself on shaking legs. For a brief moment, she wobbles, her diapered bottom swaying from side to side as she tries to steady herself. There’s no fear in her eyes, just determination as she glances over at me again and smiles.
“I see you,” I tell her, and she lets out a proud squeal, as if she can’t believe she was able to stand on her own. This isn’t the first time she’s done this, but every single time, it’s a celebration as if it were.
At almost ten months old, my sweet girl is happy and fearless. “You’re growing too fast,” I tell her, and that earns me another grin. She bounces again and almost loses her balance. Her little fingers grip a little tighter, and she manages to stay upright.
Every day seems to bring a new discovery. She’s crawling everywhere now, and she’s fast, too. What started as a hesitant scoot across the rug has turned into full-speed missions across the living room. Nothing is out of reach anymore. She finds crumbs I didn’t know existed, spots tiny objects from across the room like a trained detective, and somehow always heads straight for the one thing she isn’t supposed to touch.
Last night, I stepped into the kitchen to grab my phone. I was gone for less than a minute—I’m guessing thirty seconds, max—when I heard a crash, and then silence. When I came back, the room was suspiciously quiet after the sound I had just heard. The kind of quiet that makes a parent’s heart skip. I stepped around the couch and saw my purse was spilled out all over the floor, its contents scattered like she’d hit the jackpot. Receipts, lip balm, pens, everything. And there she was, in the middle of it all, triumphantly shaking my wallet like a rattle, grinning at the sound it made.
She looked up at me, eyes wide and sparkling, as if to say, look what I found. I tried to keep a straight face, but I couldn’t help laughing. It’s impossible to be upset when she’s so proud of herself. To her, it wasn’t a mess. It was a discovery. She’s learning and changing before my eyes every single day. What’s worse is that I thought the entryway table was tall enough, but the little bugger grabbed the strap. I’m lucky she didn’t get hurt.
Being her mom feels like living inside a constant mix of chaos and wonder. I’m always one step behind, picking things up, baby-proofing corners, moving objects higher and higher out of reach. But I’m also witnessing her grow into her independence in real time. Each wobble to standing, each determined crawl toward something new, is her way of saying she’s ready for more of the world. She’s ready for whatever comes next.
Momma, not so much. I want time to slow down.
And even though I know the days of easy containment are long gone, I wouldn’t trade this stage for anything. The curiosity, the boldness, the way she looks at everything like it’s placed there just for her to explore. It’s magical, messy, exhausting, and beautiful.
Adopting her on my own was the best decision I’ve ever made in my life. She will forever be my greatest blessing and my greatest accomplishment. Being her mom is who I am. I don’t remember myself without her.
My heart aches that she doesn’t have a daddy, and I’m not ready for the questions that I know one day will come. At the rate she’s growing and learning, it will be here before I know it. I hate that for her, but I also know that I love this little girl with every ounce of my soul. One day, we’ll have to have that conversation, and I’ll even tell her I was married before. I won’t tell her what an asshole he was, or who knows, maybe I will. Either way, I won’t hide the truth from her that she was my choice. I’ll make sure she knows her birth mother was young and struggled, but she gave me the greatest gift of my life. Her.