Can you believe it? I can't. X-man is three years old today.
Happy birthday little man. Or not so little anymore. I wonder what you look like now.
People ask me pretty regularly how hard it is to say goodbye when kids leave our home. My mind immediately goes to X-man, and I answer, "Excruciating." But not a 'I would never do that ever again' kind of excruciating. It's more of a 'I can't believe I had the opportunity to love you that much' kind of excruciating.
X-man, I think about you all the time. Really. A lot. I think about where you may be. I think about what you may look like. I think about all the things you've probably learned. I worry about you. I worry about you a lot. I think about whether you ended up with blonde hair, or if it turned out kind of red. I wonder if you still have that concerned look on your face. I wonder who is being your Daddy. I wonder what makes you giggle now. I want to give you a hug. I pray for you like crazy. I miss you.
Maybe we'll see each other again. If we do I'll give you a third birthday present. I pray if we see each other again that it's by chance, and that everything is going beautifully living with your Mom. I pray things turned around and that you all are doing great, and that she is loving you and your brothers to pieces.
In my mind you'll always be 1 1/2 and you'll giggle when I tickle your knees. Your legs will always look like little sausages and you'll smell like a mixture of pediasure and baby shampoo (I love it.).
I hope I see you again. I hope I recognize you. I hope all you remember about foster care is our love.