Happy Mother's Day

It's Mother's Day! Last year at this time, I had completed my dossier and was waiting to see if I would receive a referral from my agency's newest waiting child list. In the year that followed, I received Amelia's referral, completed my adoption, and have been home nearly six months with my precious, wonderful daughter.

Happy Mother's Day, too, to my own mother, Debra. If I can be even half the mother to Amelia that my own mother has been to me, I will be a magificent mother. I have the best mother in the whole world, and I love my mother with my whole heart.

I think having such a special bond with my own mother, and now, with my own daughter, makes me more aware of two more very special women that I want to acknowledge on mother's day. You see, I cannot talk about "my" story without acknowledging its intersection with the story of these two, other important women.

As Amelia's joyful mother, I am sadly aware that there is another mother who made an unthinkable choice - the choice to leave her (my) beautiful newborn baby in a public place to be found and cared for by others. I wonder about this mother. Was she young and alone? Was she married and under family pressure to produce a son to care for her in-laws? Was she scared? Was she sad? What did she think as she held her darling daughter for the first five days of her life? Does she think of her still, years later? I pray that the God who knows all and sees all will heal her heart. Nothing would make me happier than to meet my daughter's birthmother in Heaven one day.

I also know now that my baby was lovingly cared for by a foster family for the first two years of her life. I vividly remember when my family served as a foster family to a young girl. I remember the pain of watching her drive away, even though I knew she was going to live with her mother. The pain I saw on my child's foster mother's face as she handed my daughter to me mirrored my own pain when I saw my family's foster child taken away, never to be seen again. This mother, her body racked with sobs, handed my daughter to me and barely had the physical strength to walk away. This second mother was filled with an intermingled, deep love and deep sorrow. I will forever remember this second mother of my daughter.

I wish I had the words to tell both of these mothers in some way all that is in my heart for them and for the child that is collectively "ours." The first mother birthed my daughter and cared for her for the first 5 days. She gave my daughter her beautiful skin and stunning smile. Hers is the face I search for in every crowd in China. The second mother comforted my daughter. She rocked her, gave her bottles and loved her the next two years. She laughed and played with her and taught her how to use chopsticks. And yes, she even showed her my photos when that day came. Then I came - the last mother. The forever mother. The mother who will teach her to read, ride a bike, say please and thank you, and pay for college. I am the mother who will bear the brunt of the pain of a teenager learning who she is and deciding who she is to become. I am the mother who will sit on the front pew when she marries the love of her life. I am the mother who will rock my baby's babies so my baby can get that precious extra hour of sleep. I am the most blessed of all the mothers who have been a part of my daughter's life.