Once a year, a special day arrives when my family dedicates time to celebrate me. My children delight in serving breakfast in bed and presenting me with handmade jewelry. Who could resist cold toaster waffles and necklaces crafted from elbow macaroni? This brief moment to focus on myself is a refreshing change from the usual routine of preparing snacks, tending to runny noses, and keeping an eye out for imaginary closet monsters. While I can’t truly escape the daily demands of parenting, I cherish my chance to unwind with those waffles.
However, the night before Mother’s Day brings a more contemplative mood. It’s a time when I reflect on a woman I will likely never meet: my son’s birth mother. My son is adopted, having been abandoned just two days after birth—likely due to medical challenges his birth family could not overcome.
I don’t have insight into his early life or any details about his genetic background. I remain unaware of the circumstances that led to the choice not to parent him. His life, in many respects, began when we first met in a bustling government office at the age of three. Yet it’s important to recognize that his story predates our meeting.
I often find myself pondering the difficult decisions you faced. It must have been incredibly hard to walk away from your child, hoping he would find a loving home. I like to imagine that you observed from afar, ensuring your baby was discovered by a compassionate stranger who would safeguard him.
While I can’t fully grasp your reasons, I hold no judgment or condemnation. I understand that it must have been a heart-wrenching choice to leave behind a child you carried for nine months. My hope is that with time, any pain or guilt you felt has eased, though I realize that may be a lofty wish.
It is an understatement to say that you occupy my thoughts frequently. I wonder if you’ve found peace. Do you think of him? Do you think of me? I wish I could share with you how happy, healthy, and thriving he is. I wish you could see how deeply I love him.
Though he hasn’t yet started asking about you, I know that day will come. I would love to listen to your thoughts about what you’d want me to share with him regarding his heritage. I often imagine what you might look like or how you might sound. I wonder if you possess a sense of adventure that sometimes lands you in amusing situations, or if you have quirky dance moves. Are you tall, short, or somewhere in between? Do you have straight hair with an unruly strand that refuses to lie flat?
I wish you could know that I think of you during those precious moments as our son experiences new milestones—both the significant ones, like his first day of school and riding a bike, and the smaller ones, like baking chocolate chip cookies together. You are not forgotten; you are part of his story, and in my own way, I hold love for you.
People often say my son is lucky to have found a family, and while you might agree, I feel truly fortunate to be his mother. I wish you could know that he is happy, and we will always remember you.
You are the person I long to meet most, even though I realize that may never happen. I think of you during quiet nights when sleep eludes me, and I wonder if you think of me too.
Someone once mentioned that I changed this child’s destiny; however, I believe he has transformed mine, along with your choice. Thank you for the wonderful gift you’ve given me this Mother’s Day.
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Summary:
This heartfelt letter reflects on the author’s gratitude and contemplation toward her son’s birth mother on Mother’s Day. It emphasizes the emotional complexities of adoption and the bond that forms between the adoptive mother and the birth mother, highlighting the beauty of shared love and the joy of motherhood.
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