Dear Birth Mother
My words are weak. When I think of you, emotions well up inside me. Emotions that have no words.
Emotions that are so intensely filled with gratitude and an overwhelming sense of my own inadequacies to heal any pain you have.
I do remember my frustration
to silently listen as women complained about swollen feet, morning sickness, and bellies rubbing against the steering wheel.
I can’t imagine how you, as a birth mother,
feel when you silently listen as women complain about infants crying, toddlers refusing to eat, or long nights of teething. You would love to have those experiences with your child, but lovingly choose a different parenting plan.
At this point in my life,
I’m glad I didn’t produce children. I can’t imagine wanting anything more than these children we adopted,
who are so much a part of you and so much a part of me.
And I continue to love you more.
As these children grow and prove how intelligent and independent they really can be, my gratitude to you has once again surfaced to the point I feel like crying.