5

Encouragement For Me, For You

I have, over the years, questioned why I continue to share so much of myself with the Internet. It’s true that I find healing in writing, in sharing my story. I don’t think I would have come this far if I wouldn’t have sorted through the whole of my emotions in word form. Would it have been the same if I would have written in a diary? Or a locked blog? Would the lack of feedback made it harder for me to find the peace which I have stumbled upon? I don’t know the answers exactly.

I do know that there have been times when I have doubted what I do, what I share. These times are when people are nasty, unkind and generally lacking compassion for what they assume is outside of their own understanding. I try to remember that they’re just as scared as I once was, their negativity and harsh words are nothing more than a defense mechanism made to keep their world safe and secure. Words still sting. I’ve gotten better over the years but I still cry at times when people find it necessary to lash out at me even though their true issues are, all too often, within themselves.

That’s why I was so encouraged by an email that I received this morning. I will quote a portion. I’ve removed specific details to protect privacy.

I have to say, that I pretty much stuck to my adoptive parents [...] boards. It was reading your story and getting to know you that made me branch out and in doing so, I gained a whole new understanding of the other sides to the adoption triad. I’ll admit that for a long time I didn’t have much room in my heart for [my child's] birth mother. Thanks in part to you, your blog and openness about your feelings, that has changed.

What a lovely thing to wake up to!

I share this not to toot my own horn. I share this so that my readers who are currently blogging their journey may also feel encouraged. You never know whose life you are going to touch. As an example here, I not only touched that adoptive parent’s life but that child’s life, that birth mother’s life and anyone who comes in contact with that family. You, too, are doing the same thing by sharing your stories, your experiences, your heart with the reading masses.

The blogging world can be nasty at times. Take this moment to feel encouraged as you share your journey. The truth is that so many of you have also encouraged me in my journey. Please accept my heartfelt thanks for helping me arrive where I am today.

5

An Apology

Dear Munchkin,

I am so sorry.

I hate when I deny your existence, even by a lie of omission. It’s not who I am, who I aspire to be or who I want you to think of me as in your life. I want you to know that I am proud of you, that I am proud of your existence and your presence in my life. I don’t want you to ever doubt that pride.

But I didn’t tell someone about you this week. And I feel horrible.

A friend from camp who hadn’t made it in ten years walked through the door of my cottage. She hadn’t aged in that time and I knew her immediately. Both boys were sitting at the table, eating their lunch, and she asked their names. I told her. We discussed our husbands, her current (first) pregnancy, jobs. I never found a way to tell her, even though I know her to be a loving and kind person, about you and the joy you are in my life. It was hard enough to talk, between convincing my oldest son that he needed to eat his cottage cheese and my younger son to stay seated.

But there’s no excuse.

It’s true, of course. That I have two sons, a wonderful husband and a job that I love. It’s true that I still sing and am still a big book nerd. It’s true that I’m busy and happy and that life is good. But there’s another truth: I gave birth to an amazing, smart, beautiful daughter. I believed that I wasn’t who I needed to be at the time and I placed her in the loving arms of another mother. She has grown up in love and continues to wow the world. She may not be an everyday presence in our home but she is a presence in our family.

I’m sorry I didn’t just say it, that I didn’t break the flow of conversation and just lay it out on the table. I can tell you things like, “If she would have been there for more than a day,” or, “If the boys had taken a nap.” But it still sounds cheap.

I’m not a perfect mother. And, so it seems, I am not a perfect birth mother. I will let you down from time to time, just as I sometimes let these brothers of yours down. I don’t do it intentionally. I am proud of all of you.

And… I hope… someday… you might be proud of me as well.

Please accept my apologies and my love.
Forever and always.