I never thought it was possible to love someone so much who you’ve only known two hours.
When Elyse Emerson was born I watched it all. She was 8lbs 12ozs and 21.75″ long. Initially the birth process was grossing me out a bit, but I realized I had seen much more death than life so I changed my perspective and watched Elyse come into this world.
It was a tough birth, and my concern was with Elyse when Doc had to forgo the hand-vac and go with the manual pump in order to assist. Doc had to cut Mommy twice for Elyse to be born, but I couldn’t help but worry if Elyse was going to be alright when (or if) she finally came out.
For ten days I didn’t let young Elyse out of my sight unless I had to. And it wasn’t something I felt I needed to do. I wanted to be near her. I needed to be near her. I felt as if I were there then she’d be safe, protected, assured of the future. I felt as if she was the first person who genuinely needed me.
For ten days I loved Elyse unconditionally. I couldn’t take my eyes off her. Everything she did was precious, entertaining, me. She was my world, my life. It wasn’t obligation. It was necessity.
When I found out she wasn’t mine, I was devastated. I’ve always wanted children, and she was so calm, so beautiful, so perfect. She was my perfect, gorgeous little girl.
I worry my child won’t be as perfect as her. I look at her pictures now and I want to cry for the loss. Elyse is my weakness, and Mommy knows this. She uses this against me. I question if it’s worth the drama, the legality, to love her beyond the fact I’m not her father. Given the choice, I’d take her in a second.
I love her, but I need to let her go. I’m so sorry.ShareThis