Three months

Today my baby girl is 3 months old. I can't believe it's already 3 months, and yet, I also can't believe it's only been 3 months.

When I was 3 months and 3 days old, I was put on a plane with a stranger to be flown halfway across the world and handed off to another stranger. I don't know how else to say this — it haunts me lately. I look at my baby and I wonder, how could anyone part with something so precious? And then I wonder, how would my baby handle it if she were handed off to strangers tomorrow? Here I have spent three months trying hard to ensure a stable, loving environment for her. I worry about sleep habits and eating routines. I worry about leaving her at daycare so long. Will she remember me? Will she feel abandoned? Does she know who her mommy and daddy are? I want her to feel secure and safe and loved.

A shrink once said to me, upon my sharing I was adopted, "How traumatic that must have been for you." At the time I thought she was full of it. (She was my second-least-favorite of all the therapists I've seen.) I mean, I was just a baby. I turned out fine. How can a baby be traumatized at 3 months? But now I realize new parents are inundated with books that emphasize specific parenting habits from the moment a child is born. Does any of this matter?

It makes me sad to imagine how my baby would feel if I abandoned her tomorrow. I need to believe she loves me as much as I love her. But I guess I don't know. I love my husband dearly, but he doesn't understand why I think about this stuff. Heck, I don't understand why. But I do, on days like these. Maybe one day I will go back to that shrink and she will tell me why these thoughts go and come and go again ... and why I am so desperate for my baby to love me as much as I love her.

There are so many things to love about Miss M. Among them:

• Her crazy kicking legs
• Her deep breaths when she gets excited
• Her coos
• Her sour milky breath
• Her sweet baby smell
• Her chubby hands that look like mine
• Her gummy smiles
• Her expressive eyebrows 
• Her little mouth chewing and sucking on her big fists
• Her pouty mouth, and her little line mouth (aka "the no-more-milk mouth")
• Her neck rolls ... and wrist rolls, and thigh rolls
• The way she smiles after spitting up
• The way she smiles when I wake her
• The way she peers out of the little hole in her carseat cover, like "Where are we going?"
• The way her fists come together but can't grasp anything yet
• The way she gets excited when she realizes I'm getting ready to nurse her
• The most peaceful expression on her face when she sleeps

It makes me want to snuggle her. But that's one thing she's not so great at. She'd rather see what else is going on. It's heartwarming and heartbreaking at the same time.