Twenty-five days until our departure, amidst all our travel preparations, I find that my mind is constantly returning to William's birthmother. While this time is largely full of excitement and anticipation for us, I have to imagine the birthmother is passing these days in sorrow and dread, counting down the time until her child is taken one very wide ocean and a continent away from her.If I knew that in twenty-five days, I would no longer have access to Andrew, I can tell you that I would be a broken, disconsolate shell of a woman. That is putting it quite mildly. Yes, it is true that the birthmother made the difficult choice to place William for adoption, believing it to be in his best interest. Certainly, we will be able to provide for William in ways that she could not. And yes, it is also true that if we didn't adopt him, another family would have.
Still, a part of me can't help but feel like a thief, like I'm stealing another woman's child. That same part of me feels guilty for usurping her ability to savor her child's first steps, to delight in his first words, to rejoice during each of his birthdays. Mother's Day will forever be bittersweet because I know that halfway around the world, there's a young woman with a broken heart and that, in some convoluted way, I bear some responsibility for it. That the birthmother has visited William several times while he has been at St. Lucy's is a scenario better than any I could have hoped for. But at the same time, it is one more thing that makes it harder for me to bring him out of the country without feeling a little guilty.
I don't know if we'll get to meet William's birthmother in Taiwan - I really hope we can. In either event, we bought her two gifts, a photo album for the pictures we'll send on each of his birthdays and a Tiffany's heart pendant. When she wears the necklace, pehaps she'll think of her sweet Szu-Chuan and remember not the heartache that comes from making the hard sacrifices that love sometimes demands, but the joy in knowing that her child is safe and well-loved by not one, but two families.
4 comments:
Whew. A big, heavy sigh just escaped my lips. You absolutely cannot shake the love angle. So much love involved, you're right. And that is absolutely is why there must be rejoicing and not sorrow. I can only imagine that the birthfamily's grief was at its highest *before* placing your son (your son!) at SLC...and that now, there is a calm resolution that this is best for him.
Tisra
waiting for referral
http://lifetrain.blogspot.com
What a wonderful post to describe even some of what you must be feeling. I can only imagine what William's bm is going through. I think it is certainly wonderful she has chosen to come and see him. I am sure she will treasure the gift you will give her. I hope you will be able to meet her.
Andrea
Miranda's Mom
I know that feeling - but you have to remember that you are not "stealing him". He is a child without a mother now, and that person is you. He needs you to come and get him. I got that feeling of being guilty for a while, but then I read some things by birth mothers and how grateful they were that the children found homes and considered the adoptive parents the real parents. That really helped me. I saw Juno and the fact that even when things started to go wrong, she still really needed to find a home for her baby. She loved the baby, but didn't want to keep the baby. Also, it can hinder your attachment to the baby if you give in too much to those feelings of guilt.
Anyway - it's my own therapy telling you this, I have the guilty feeling too.
Really thoughtful post! Very nice.
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