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Tuesday, May 22, 2012

loving a birthmother - from Me

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Late afternoon shadows and light bounce off the walls and floor as I slowly rock down the hallway, humming to the baby cradled in my arms. She holds her bottle tight between tiny, chubby fingers and I’m cherishing this quiet moment we share in preparation for her nap. I concentrate on willing this memory to be filed away in my subconscious so that it might be recalled later in my life -- perhaps one day when my arms are not so full.


My petite girl turns her head toward me and gazes contentedly up into my eyes. If she didn’t already have me wrapped completely around her finger, she wouldn’t have to try hard. Next, she does one of my very favorite things. She grins at me so that she drools a little milk out the sides of her pretty pink lips. Not only is her mouth smiling, but so are her beautiful blue eyes. Whenever those eyes meet mine, there is a fraction of a second when I feel my heart might beat just for her. And then I remember how blessed I am to not only have Amelia in my life, but to have Carter and Ruby as well.



little millie


And then Amelia’s smiling eyes remind me of someone else. Every time I look into them I feel a connection to another woman who is a hero of mine, and not just because she chose me to be the mother of two of my three children. I love her for so much more than the act of making an adoption plan when she discovered she was expecting. She wears the title of birth mother, yes, but she is so much more than that to me. She is beautiful, inside and out. She is brave. She is sweet. She is courageous. She is a mother. She is a daughter. She is a sister, an aunt, and a friend. She is full of love for all her children and for her family. She will never get sick of me texting or sharing pictures. She gets as excited as I do when one of my kids reaches a new milestone. She has made some really selfless choices in her life. I’ve seen her sacrifice everything for what she feels is best for a child. I’ve known her heart to break more than once, and yet she keeps going, trying to be the best she can be. I love her for all these reasons and more. Honestly, we only get to see each other once or twice a year and we haven’t spent hours chatting or going shopping together. However, I feel a connection to her on a deeper level than almost anyone else on this earth. I will always love and respect her, no matter what. Carter and Amelia are part of her. She is part of them. As Desha says, “He is mine in a way that he will never be hers, yet he is hers in a way that he’ll never be mine, and so together WE are motherhood.” Just looking into my daughter’s eyes reminds me of this.


carter and his birthmother

I place one last kiss on my Millie’s forehead and, just like at every nap time, I tell her I love her, tell her to rest well, and carefully close the door of her room on my way out. I pray silently that I can be enough for my children, that I can somehow express a love worthy of two mothers who both want the best for each of these children. I always want my children to know that they were placed in love. I will always do my best to teach them the full extent of that love. I am grateful for the openness that we do have in our adoptions, even if it’s not as much as some have, because it means honesty, truth, and knowledge for my children. It means they know they have always been cared for. I hope both of the women who gave life and birth to my babies know how reverenced their names are in our home. I hope they know I think of them, pray for them, and hope the best for them every day. I hope they will feel my gratitude for them this weekend as we celebrate Birth Mother’s Day and Mother’s Day.


darling ruby

handsome carter

There are a lot of miracles that come together to make up every uniquely beautiful adoption story. 
I am blessed to have three miracle children in my life and to be reminded of their birth mothers 
each time I look into their eyes.

the arizona experiment
For more info about this family please go to:
http://thearizonaexperiment.blogspot.com/

1 comment:

Kevin said...

This essay is a gift. It puts into words just how much love I have for my son's birthmother. Thank you for sharing.

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