It's Birth Mother's Day

Today I don't think that I have the heart space nor the time to adequately write about this adoptive mothering thing. Whole volumes of books have been written, so I won't offer advice. I'm typing here much like I do many times: knowing what I want to say and not knowing at the same time. I guess I just wanted today to remember the woman who birthed three of our children.

Foster care is a wretched beast. For us, it's one of those beasts that I'm glad we couldn't have possibly fully known until we jumped into it b/c I'm certain (yes 10000% certain) that we would never have considered it. It is crazy. Such wonderful people are doing their very best and the system is still just so flawed b/c well, we are a flawed people.




I say this not to dissuade any potential foster parents or those looking into it. I say it because I think many times birth parents are made out to be monsters. And many times that seems like the deserving title should be for them both. In reality though, they are people. Just like you and me. Yes, just like us in many ways. People with so much baggage that it wouldn't have fit on the Titanic. They are people that need help and to be held accountable for sure. And in no way do I want to minimize the trauma that the children will deal with the rest of their lives. I walk and love them through it. Daily. I know it. I live with it. It surrounds me in ways that I hate sometimes. I would never, ever minimize it.

There are these times, though, that I look at our three beautiful children and my heart aches for the loss that their first mom knows every single waking moment of her life. I just cannot even imagine. Yes, she knows and acknowledges that it is better for them here. She is thankful, even. But that doesn't make the hurt go away.  Every morning she wakes up with out the ones she carried in her womb nearest to her.

I had one of those times again today as I read the following quote:

"A child born to another woman calls me Mom. The magnitude of that tragedy and the depth of that privilege are not lost on me." ~ Jody Landers

Yes, such is the crushing magnitude here because sometimes, I forget what a blessing it is to be called mom by all 8 of them. Being a mom is hard. Being an adoptive mom is hard. And sometimes I forget that at the end of the day, no matter how it all unfolds... good, bad, ugly or all 3 ...that motherhood is such a blessing.

Everyday.