As I write this, just after my long awaited very first Mother’s Day, I am drawn to reflection about my journey to adoptive motherhood. First in my mind is the fact that I only got to celebrate that special day because of another mother - my daughter’s birth mother. And on my first Mother’s Day, my heart sang a song of celebration for her! Of all the sacrifices we mothers make for our children, our daughter’s birth mother made the
greatest I can imagine
The love and gratitude I feel for this amazing woman is immeasurable. The other thing I feel, intensely, is responsibility to her. I have been entrusted with a gift like no other. With every choice I make for my daughter, I think of her birth mother and hope she would approve. I always want her to know with all her being that she made the perfect choice when she decided to give me the gift of motherhood.
I am also reflecting on how much this gift has changed my life. Case in point, I am writing this on the floor with my 9-month-old daughter as she alternates between her piano, her ball and sucking on her shirt. Who knows how many times I’ll stop and start before I get this done. As a mom, pretty much everything takes longer. Every outing requires logistics. Most things are, well, just plain harder than they used to be. Everything is also messier, louder and funnier. More beautiful. More wondrous.
My daughter’s smile is the antidote for anything that might have happened during the day. Her laughter is like a siren’s song that can pull me away from anything I might have thought was important. It’s in those moments that I still can’t believe I’m actually a mom now that everything I hoped and dreamed for is real. It is also in those moments I feel most connected to our birth mother. And I think she would approve.