A letter from one mother to another.
Dear Birth Mother,
I think about you. Often. I’ve never met you. I wonder who you are. Where you live. Every time I brush my daughter’s long dark hair, I think of you and wonder if she got her beautiful hair from you.
If only I could meet you, my daughter’s birth mother, I would hug you as if we were long lost friends. I would say thank you, even though those words seem so small and insignificant in relation to the gift you’ve given me.
We might not speak the same language, but I would try to communicate with you anyway. We would probably both cry. I’d hold your hand. I’d show you some of the thousands of photos of my daughter I keep on my phone. You’d see the lovely, smart and accomplished young lady she’s becoming.
I’d show you the goofy photos she takes of herself when she grabs my phone. I’d share the video of her recent cheer competition. My all American daughter in her red, white and blue cheerleading outfit with an obnoxiously enormous, sequined red bow in her hair.
Before I became a mother, I thought birth mothers gave up their children because they didn’t love them. Now I know birth mothers give up children BECAUSE they love them.
A thousand, a million thank yous for loving her enough to give her another chance.
I don’t know why you had to give her up. I’ve imagined so many scenarios in my head. I’m sure all of them are wrong. Whatever it was, I’m sorry that I profited from your loss.
I have so many questions I want to ask you. Does she get her love of drawing from you? Her stubbornness? Her sense of humor?
I know I’ll probably never meet you and have the opportunity to look into eyes that are a reflection of my daughter. I know the statistics. The chances of me ever being able to locate you is infinitesimally small. Grains of sand on the beach. Billions of people in China, and no adoption records of your name. There is nothing left behind, no clues to go on, no trail that leads me to you. The only path I have to you is her.
And since that’s our only connection, as I hug her tonight, I’ll send a message to you; a little prayer. I’ll hope that somehow through her, you will know that this daughter you gave life to is safe and sound, loved and adored beyond all measure. And I hope that you’ll feel the gratitude I feel for you, her first mother.
From one mother to another, I wish you nothing but love.