The Miracle of You

By Mommy

It was November and the snow drifted from God's arms
As we ended our wait, three seasons long, and more.
Your birthmother pushed and sighed and prayed,
While I held my breath and asked once again
For a change in direction from what had come before.

With eyes closed tight, a tiny tear traced a path
Down your birthmother's face, another down mine,
As we reverently shared the soul pushed from her womb.
You stared at us with wondering eyes, cuddled against my breast,
Look, Alex, loved by many, wanted by all, the miracle of you.

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(Written for our birthmother on the occassion of my daughter's 11th birthday and shared with her birthfamily who have been thrilled by it. We still visit. Alex is an Irish dancer, and we will all be together: mother, birth mother, birth siblings, birth aunt, birth grandmother, birth cousins when Alex dances in Denver on March 27.)