Tell me about my tummy

Ever since learning that she grew in her birthmother's tummy before she was born, Esther has gone through phases of talking a lot about her birthmother.  These often seem to be triggered by my including her birth family in her night-time prayers.

Sometime last week I prayed for Esther's birth family, and afterwards, as I was getting ready to sing her lullaby, Esther asked, "Tell me about my tummy."  It took me a minute, but then I caught on that she meant her birthmother.  So I told her (not for the first time) how she grew in her birthmother's tummy until it was time for her to be born, and how it was a warm and safe place and she could hear her birthmother's voice and her birthmother could feel her squirm and kick inside.  When I finished, she asked me to talk some more.  So I told her how she had an umbilical cord that attached her to her birthmother, and how she didn't eat when she was in her birthmother's tummy, but got energy from the food her birthmother ate through the umbilical cord.  Over the next several days she asked me several times to talk about her being in her birthmother's tummy.  She was especially interested in her umbilical cord, wanting to know what happened to it.  I told her that after she was born she didn't need it any more because she could eat on her own, so it was cut off and somebody probably threw it away.  (I don't think she was overly pleased with that thought!)  At least three times in the last week, Esther has started a conversation with somebody by pulling up her shirt, sticking out her belly button, and announcing, "I grow up in my birthmother's tummy!"

Developmentally, I don't think Esther has started yet to think of her birthmother as a person, but more as a container.  In fact, one time when she asked me to tell her about her birthmother and I started to talk about where she lived and what she might do, Esther stopped me and made it clear that she wanted to hear about herself growing in her birthmother's tummy, not that other stuff!  I'm not even certain whether she understands that I am not her birthmother.  When we were looking at the fetal development display at the Oregon Museum of Science and Industry last month, she told me, "I grow in your tummy."  And on an earlier occasion when I was talking about her birthmother's tummy she said firmly, "your tummy!"  She looked displeased when I told her that, no, she grew in her birthmother's tummy.  I don't know if her displeasure comes from sadness that I wasn't there at that time of her life, or if she is just frowning because she's confused.

At one point during this most recent period of interest, I was telling Esther her life story up until we adopted her, and she kept asking me at various points in the story, "And you see me?"  She clearly expected the answer to be yes, and was happy about being seen by us.  I hated so much to have to tell her that we didn't see her then, that we didn't even know her then!  I told her that we were praying for her every day, knowing that she was somewhere out there.  Then when she asked me if we saw her in her birthmother's tummy, I thought to tell her that nobody could see her then because she was hidden inside her birthmother's tummy, but God could see her.  Later on as I was tucking her into bed she told me how she grew up in her birthmother's tummy.  Matter-of-factly she added, "You didn't see me...but [big grin] God see me!"