Mine

The first time I layed eyes on my daughter the first thing I thought (well, right after “OMG I HAVE JUST GIVEN BIRTH TO ANOTHER HUMAN BEING OMGOMGOMG!!”) was that I had just given birth to manfriend’s girl version. She was his spitting image.

 

Everyone kept pointing it out and during the days following her birth I kept looking for anything in her that was mine. I found her fingers and hands are long like mine. Her toes could be like mine. Her eyebrows are looking like they are not manfriend’s THANK GOD, so they must be mine. But those look like little clues for hope compared to how you can look at her and then look at him and know immediately that he is her father. The first time we saw her sleeping, JUST LIKE HIM.

So of course, I have kept looking. This being shares my DNA, I carried her IN MY WOMB, there must be something! And during the last weeks, now that she has much more response to us than she did as a newborn (she smiles!) I discovered something: she makes a thousand face gestures in a couple of minutes, which is very much like me, in fact when I’m doing something that is not to her liking she looks at me like I’m exasperating her beyond believe. Like “mom. Seriously.”

 

And oh my God yes, she is my daughter.

 

 

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