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Like She's My Only

I always wanted a big family. When I was young, I used to say that I wanted to break the world record for having the most children. At the time, I believe that record was somewhere around 70 kids, all birthed by one woman.

Take that Duggars.

As I grew older, I of course recognized how insane having that many children would be. I refined my goal, but still maintained I wanted a big family; five babies at least.

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The irony, of course, is that I would lose my ability to ever have kids at all—long before I even really got the chance to try. I don’t know what I thought was going to happen after that. I knew I still wanted to be a mother, but I also had serious fears and apprehensions surrounding adoption. Besides, I was nearing 30 and single; single, barren, and with a fair amount of medical debt under my belt. I wanted to be a mother, but I had no idea how I was ever going to make that happen.

Thankfully, fate intervened and my daughter seemed to find me—through an adoption story that still feels like a fairy tale. At six months old, I continue to find myself looking at her in awe every single day. I don’t know what I ever did to deserve her, but I am thankful for every moment I get to spend being her mommy.

I still want more kids. I even still think five would be ideal. More and more lately though, as I watch my daughter grow, I come to the realization that if it is only ever just her and me—that would be alright too. I have no idea if Prince Charming is ever going to show up, and I can’t imagine I will ever have another adoption fall so miraculously into my lap. I would like my daughter to have siblings, and who knows what the future holds, but for now I really have been treating every milestone as though it may be the only one I get to experience.

If today is the only chance I get to be mommy to a six month old, I want to enjoy it.

Like she’s my only.

Because she very well may be.

I find myself wanting to document everything. Snapping photos and writing it all down, not wanting to ever forget. When she was born, I stretched my maternity leave out as long as possible. I arranged newborn photos with two separate photographers. When it came time for daycare, I was only willing to opt for part-time. If today is the only chance I get to be mommy to a six month old, I want to enjoy it. I want to cherish it. I want to remember.

In some ways, it has made me a more attentive parent than I think I otherwise would have been. Believing she may be my only is the constant reminder I need to remain present; to not take a single moment for granted. Being a mother is the best thing that has ever happened to me, and while I would love the opportunity to do it again and again—I am also coming around to the idea of her being my only. Of the adventures we could have just the two of us, and the bond formed between mother and daughter as we take on the world together.

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I would love to have more babies. But for now, I’m enjoying the moments I have with her; remembering each step of the way to cherish them all.

Like she’s my only.

Because she very well may be.

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