The Birthmom

I planned to tell you about my Mother In Law who moved to the area today. Health-wise, it has been a very rocky year and we have tricked her into moving into an assisted living facility near us. I promise to come back to this topic very soon, but instead, we will be discussing 'the birthmom'.

In our house my childrens' birth family has been a topic since day one. During all of our homestudies and course work it was pounded into our head that it was important to acknowledge the birth family and to let our children express their thoughts and opinions. We agreed wholeheartedly... of course, it's easy to agree when they are 8 months old and hard to ignore when they have a different skin color.

When my son was 3, the birth family became a very big topic. My son started to draw pictures of me with him in my belly. He was shy and embarrassed about it. He explained to me that he knew it wasn't real but that he just wanted to pretend. My comment... 'shouldn't you draw your twin sister in there too?' He immediately drew her in and was in love with this picture. There were several more pictures of me with a big belly and two babies.

At age 4 my son wanted to know how babies were made and born. Thank you so much to friends for these answers. 'Babies are made when a mommy and a daddy do a special hug which creates a baby' and, heaven help me this was the best answer 'There is a hole that opens up on a woman's bottom between the poop spot and the pee spot. This is where the baby comes out.' Do you know how many times my son yelled 'mom's poop out babies, ew!' in some completely inappropriate place? Come to think of it, there is no appropriate place.

Minor questions about birthmoms sprinkled the 3's, 4's and 5's for my son. He also felt a need to tell everyone. 'Hi. I was born in Guatemala. My birthmom still lives there. She's brown too. Can I have a sticker?' The checkout lady was speechless. I'm not sure which I felt more, an overwhelming desire to laugh or pity for her confused look.

Throughout all of these questions and these years of inquiry from my son, my daughter has never asked anything. She has never commented. She has never seemed to care... until tonight. Tonight, while watching Planet Earth for the billionth time while we settle down for bed, my daughter started to cry. She told me that she missed her birthmom. Could we go back to Guatemala to see her? I asked what she would say when she saw her. My daughter answered 'I would just hug her. I miss her so much.' And I picked up my daughter and hugged her because it was all that I could do.

For years our therapist and adoption websites and newsgroups have tried to explain the grief that adopted children feel for everything they have lost, even if it happened before they were old enough to truly remember. I've worked with my son on so many issues that this grief is simply part of the fabric of everything else going on with him, but to be blindsided by the grief that my daughter expressed to me today made me realize how powerful of an emotion it is for my children and how difficult it must be for them. I feel sad and lost for my daughter but as her mother I know that I must be the strong one. I held her and rocked her through this first of what I suspect will be many such episodes over the years.