I like to look at pictures of her. She is a beautiful little girl. Is that selfish of me to say? I am her birthmother, after all. She looks a little bit like me. Is it bragging to say I think she's beautiful? I don't think so...
I like to replay memories of her in my mind's movie theater. Like when I went to her first birthday party.
Words can hardly describe how I felt being there. Honored. Privileged. Excited. Freaked out. Heart aching with a pain I hadn't known before she was born. I wanted to be at that party so badly. To be a part of her life. And yet while I was there I wanted to leave because seeing her, watching her play...it hurt. I decided the pain of seeing her was better than the pain of not. Seeing her is a constant reminder of what we are not. Mother and daughter. It's a reminder of what we are. Birthmother and daughter. Slight difference in terminology, mother versus birthmother, but HUGE difference in meaning. I'm not sure she's all that familiar with the term birthmother. Even now as a seven year old. Tummy mommy. That's a term she knows. She knows she grew in my tummy before she came to live with her mom and dad. I love hearing stories from Melissa, Chloe's mom, about conversations they've had about adoption. Melissa handles it with grace and compassion. Thanks to Melissa and Alvin, Chloe won't have a life altering conversation when she's fifteen and finding out for the first time that she's adopted. She'll already know. She's always known. She understands better than a lot of adults that this is another way families are made.
Adoption.
Now I have a son, James.
I'm learning to be a mom. A see-you-every-day-provide-your-every-need kind of mom. As opposed to a make-one-decision-for-you-that-impacts-the-rest-of-your-life kind of mom. I chose parents for Chloe. That's where my parenting decisions ended with her. With James, the decisions, from what others tell me, will never end. Strangers ask if he's my first. I pause because I'm not sure what to say. No. He's not my first child. Yes, I'm a first time mom. It's both.
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I'm linking up with Heather of the Extraordinary Ordinary for Just Write.
5 comments:
this made me cry. Your experiences have given you so much to grapple with - I'm so glad you are putting all of that into words for us to read.
Oh no, Kelly! I didn't mean to make you CRY! Thanks for reading. Hopefully I haven't scared you off by making you cry. :)
As an adoptive mom, this touched me very deeply. Chloe is lucky to have you as her birthmom. And James is lucky to have you as a mom.
When I stop crying I'll think of something to say.....
Beautifully said.
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