Friday, February 26, 2010

Monthly Letter to My Son's Birthmother

Hi J,

I've let too many days slip past simply because I don't know what to write.

No, the truth is I don't know what not to write.

I can’t imagine facing even one day without him. What have you had to rearrange in yourself to get through these last 11 months? I'm afraid that something I write will upend some intricate balance you've perfected in yourself in order to be able to love him from a distance.

You always tell me I worry too much about you. I know. I do. I may always. Because even though you believe you made the right decision (and I believe you when you tell me that), I can't help but wonder how your feelings about your decision may change over time. Does time make the pain of loss less acute or more pervasive? Each day with him brings new joy to me. I can't help but wonder what each day without him brings to you.

Thank you again, and for the rest of my life, for trusting us with him. The day he turned nine months I thought, "He's been separate from J for as long as he was joined with her," and I felt sad for his loss of you and yours of him. And when I think of your smile and your laugh and your voice and your eyes, I'm sad that he's missing all of that. I know he would adore you.

Then I remind myself: he will adore you. He will come to know your face and your voice and your hands and your laugh, and he will hold you, J, in some special place within himself created by you. For him. For you. He will love you in a way that’s just for you.

I reflect on how he’s changed since we last saw you, and I wonder how you’ve changed. I think about his persistence and his determination to grow - to stand, to reach, to decide for himself - and I smile at the memory of yours.

I see so much of you in him. His love of speed. His placid nature. His sense of humor. I also find much of us in him. The way he joins in on family jokes. His habit of perfectly mimicking our expressions. The way he molds himself into my arms. The light in his face when Daddy walks into the room. And he and his big sister are inseparable. Each has truly become a part of the other. Their games, their songs, holding hands in their car seats… it’s one of the most beautiful relationships I’ve ever known.

Has there ever been a little boy so loved as this one? Surely not. Love is all he’s ever known, from the moment he began. You gave him that. One of the many reasons he has to love you. And I, too.

Click here to purchase Sally's What I Want My Adopted child to Know: An Adoptive Parent's Perspective.

Sally Bacchetta
The Adoptive Parent
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3 comments:

Waiting Lisa said...

Beautiful letter! I will have to come to you for help when the time comes to write to our child's birthparents.

Lisa said...

What a lovely and honest way to honor both your son and his birthmother.

Beautiful.

familyofthree said...

Just wanted to say I enjoyed reading this post! It brought back a lot of the same feelings and memories from our daughter's first year, and a lot of questions I had regarding the open adoption dynamic.