Mending?

As I was rocking my precious baby girl tonight, I thought to myself how I could sit there all night long with her and not move.  Then I decided I could truly stay there forever . . . just holding her, listening to her coo in her sleep, smelling her sweet clean skin, feeling her squishy thighs, and letting her fuzzy hairs tickle my cheek.

Then - since I'm a rambler inside my head before I even write or speak it - I thought that if needed I would stay there forever even I had to pee or poop on myself.  (haha)  But then I thankfully started another train of thought:

I could not love this precious angel anymore had I grown her in my own body.  She is mine.  There is absolutely no doubt about that.  My heart is so full that I sometimes feel like I really could explode.  Every time she smiles; every time she coos; every time she giggles . . . my heart begins to mend a little.  Each of those beautiful, precious moments take a bit of the hard parts in my heart and crack them apart so they can escape the clutch they've had on me for so, so very long.  The parts can now remove themselves from my heart, my mind, and my body.  A small hole will always remain in those places.  I know that because I am forever an infertile, habitual aborter.  My history won't ever change.  I won't ever forget how I got here and what I had to endure to be in this very place.  Surely that is why I can appreciate the here and now.

My future has changed though.  Now I am forever a Mommy.  And I am so incredibly in love.