A Birthmother's struggle with Mother's Day

Mother's Days have come and gone over the past 39 years. Some remain in my memory as very painful days, others simply as days that I wished would be over quickly and forgotten. All of them were days of incredible sadness. Many a year the sadness was hidden until late at night. I would look forward to going to bed so I could turn my face into my pillow and cry. I felt guilt for not appreciating what was around me, three beautiful children I raised and a husband who loved me. But always there was something missing. Even after reunion there was something missing and it was lost that first Mother's Day in 1970!

I have written about my first Mother's Day in previous posts, the month after I gave birth to my first born. I remember all to well the painful experience of suppressing the urge to stand up in church and shout out "I AM A MOTHER TOO". I remember the tears that rolled down and the depression the enveloped me only to remain a constant companion for all this time.

I am not sure what part of the secrets and lies that haunt every Mother's Day I have had since my first that I hate the most. The lie that I was not a mother when I was, the lie that I had three children rather than four, the lie that I would forget about my first born and that other children would come to replace him. All lies. The list goes on...

Now that I am in reunion the painful memories of past Mother's Days are mixed with the struggles of questioning what role I play in my son's life and the fear that he may "give me up" one day as I did him so many years ago. For the four years we have been in reunited the realization that reunion does not wipe away the years in between or dry the tears of heartache and separation adoption caused is only slowly coming to my understanding.

And, there is another realization I am coming to. I may not have been able to control what our society did to me as a pregnant, unwed teen, I may not have been able to control how my parents sent me away and the lies that followed, I may not have been able to control a lot of things about what happened to me or to my son but the one thing I could control was the love I held for him. For all the years that have past and all the years to come it is the one thing no one can take from me, my undying, forever love for my son. That is what makes me a mom. I know I was not the one who wiped his runny nose when he had a cold, or listened to the excitement in his voice when he caught his first fish, or scored his first goal in hockey, but I was the woman who carried him for nine months and always loved him.

A mother is known by her love for her children. This year as Mother's Day approaches I am going to try to focus on what it is within me that qualifies me to be a Mom, his mom...it is the love I hold in my heart. This is my fortieth Mother's Day and perhaps there is hope that I am coming of age!!!
Happy Mother's Day