Half a world away there is a mother who is not holding her child today because I am. In the adoption world many families honor the Saturday before Mother's Day as BirthMother's Day. This may not make sense to some, but for me I never want to forget the courage and sacrifice of a woman I have never met, that allowed me to be a mother. Little Man is young still, so we don't do much to honor her right now, as he gets older we will do more.
I wrote this shortly after holding my son for the first time:
Two women- two worlds- one child, two lives forever connected in the beating of that child’s heart.
A woman living in a land that is beautiful beyond measure, but hard beyond definition. She is brave. She is struggling. She is full of love and full of sadness. The life she carries within her, that grows in her belly is one she knows she can not care for.
A woman living in a land of opportunity with possibilities beyond measure. She is brave. She is struggling. She is full of love and full of sadness. The child she longs to give life to, is growing within her heart
The child is born and the mother grieves. She knows what she must do, she must ask someone to find him a home. Kissing him she leaves him to another’s care with the hopes that soon, he will have arms to cradle him, hands to wipe away his tears and lips to offer words of love and comfort.
Half a world a way a woman searches her heart for the child that is growing there. A single glimpse of him, his hands, his eyes and the woman knows her child was born. Born to woman brave enough to carry him and strong enough to let him go, a woman with a love and courage that will connect these lives forever. He is theirs, flesh and blood of one, hopes and dreams of the other.
So one woman’s journey to her child begins with the heartbreak of a mother and the cries of a baby who does not understand. He is placed in the arms of the nanny and his story begins, a story of heartache and of love surpassing understanding, a love that oddly, starts with letting go. - Jenn Kramer
I think of his mother often, wonder how she is, what she is doing and wish that she could see how he is doing. I pray that there is a peace in her heart, that some how she knows that our son is doing great. That she knows he came home to a loving family.
So today while I celebrate the light and joy he brings to my life, I smile toward the east and whisper a silent thank you to a woman I have never seen or met.
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