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Just like any parent, I have dreams for the Munchkin. I’ve always felt, somewhere deep in the core of my being, that she was brought to this world to accomplish something amazing. What it is, we have yet to see, of course. Not too many people have accomplished their lifes’ work by age three.
I have my dreams for her, of course.
I want her to be the doctor that cures breast cancer. I want her to be a great philanthropist and work with both the March of Dimes and Childrens’ Miracle Network because I’m betting she’ll understand the value in supporting children in need. I’m betting she’d be a great singer. I inherited my Mother’s ability to sing, worked with my voice through college and still sing with decent ability. She’s already learned to find the tune every time she hears a new song; she commits it to heart. How fun would it be to turn on my radio or television and listen to her voice… whenever I wanted to do so. I want her to be a big, strong female firefighter. (She loves Josh’s fire trucks.)
I want her to write books. Big ones. Children’s books. Intelligent ones. Funny ones. I want her to paint and draw! (However, she won’t be getting any talent in that area from me.) I want her to be a famous ballerina so I can go see the Nutcracker every holiday season. I want to be a proud Mamma in the audience, even if I’m not the only one.
I want her to be a teacher, to shape and mold the minds of our youth. I want her to reach out to the child in class that everyone makes fun of because his family tree has a birthmom and birthday on it. I want her to reach out to the pregnant teenager and offer her a shoulder to cry on if just for a moment. I want her smile to spread the joy of learning.
I want her to be a lawyer who fights to reform adoption. Forget that, I want her to be a Judge who helps adoption reform move in the right directions.
I want her to be a Mother, a Mom. In my heart of hearts, I do not wish for her to bear the title of birthmother. I don’t like it when she has a cold so knowing that her heart was broken in ways that can’t ever be fully fixed, well, that would be too much for me to handle. No. I want her to be a Mom, with all the joys, sadness, good days, bad days and love that comes with the full ownership of the title. I want her to know the joy of watching her child hit every milestone. I want her to know the love of smooshy-faced kisses.
Above and beyond all of my hopes and dreams for the Munchkin, I have this one desire, which has always been true: I want her to be happy. Even if she ends up with an ordinary job and an ordinary lifestyle, even if I think she is extraordinary, I just want for her to be happy. That’s what I’ve always wanted for her.
I know we can’t depend on others for our own happiness, but it would mean so much to me if she grew up to be a happy adult. I can only pray.
