The holiday was relatively quiet. Dinner at my parents with just us and my brother and his girlfriend. Mickey’s number one favorite thing is food. All food. Thanksgiving was his version of perfection – a day of eating. We played outside, we ran, he had minor meltdowns, but nothing like what we were seeing on a day to day basis. Days like this gave me hope.
I was Thankful. I had waited 35 years to become a mom. Minnie and Mickey were both starting to call me mom fairly regularly. Even with all we were going through, I loved being a mom. I loved my children, my parents and my brother. They stood by me, they loved my children, and they supported us emotionally. I spent hours on the phone with my mother after the kids went to bed at night – many of those nights in tears as I felt completely inadequate and as a failure. I didn’t know how to help this little boy.
On the other hand, Minnie was delightful. At four, she was articulate, curious, funny and the most loving and nurturing little girl I had ever seen. Without her, I am not sure that we could have continued. I had to fight for them….they deserved to be together and know each other. I did laugh each and every day – often with both of them. The way they looked at the world fascinated me. I couldn’t wait for the days when I could take them places and explore our world, outside of our little prison.