The Unsent Letter
“If you have the heart for adoption, don't let fear stand in the way.” – DOUG CHAPMAN
To my daughter’s birth mother,
I was reminded of you once again the other day as I wrangled my youngest 4 kids through the grocery store. It’s funny the moments that remind me of you. That day I was only buying a few items and there was no one behind me in line so the check-out clerk was playing with Genevieve as she rung me up. The clerk asked if Genevieve liked her baby sister [Clementine] who was sharing a cart with her. Genevieve replied yes, and then the clerk continued, she asked if Genevieve liked her big brother [Leo]. Genevieve once again replied yes, and then the clerk turned to Rose and hesitated, “do you like your friend?” Genevieve was confused, she didn’t know who the clerk was talking about.
Meanwhile, my heart dropped.
Rose will soon be celebrating her 5th birthday in America, but I will never know what happened on the first two. I was not there for her birth, her 100 days or her dol. I didn’t see her take her first steps, or hear her first words. So many milestones that were viewed by another mother in another time and another place. Rose met us at 16 months old, and came home at 17 months. I am the fourth woman she has called mama. John and I missed so much of that important early growth and attachment that happens in the first 18 months of a child’s life. It is a time that we will never get back, but are reminded of on a daily basis.
They say that in a perfect world there would be no need for adoption. But the world we live in is a broken one, so here we are. Struggling day in and day out to do the best I can as Rose’s last mother.
Rose’s birthday always brings about its own nostalgia. It’s when I compose my annual letter to you, filled with basic facts about what Rose currently likes, a single picture and a message of hope that we will one day meet. I don’t know if you read them, and I might never know as it will be Rose’s choice when she turns 18, and that day has not yet come.
Still, It’s an odd feeling. Two complete strangers and yet we share a daughter. I know things that you never will. That Rose likes to have her hair braided, her favorite color changes on a daily basis and every food is her favorite. And yet, I know only three lines about you. Your name, your age, the city where you live and your occupation when you had Rose. I can’t help but to wonder about you. Does she look like you? Do you have the same beautiful, silky soft hair? Do you share the same dry skin that requires lotion after every bath? Do you have a problem with your teeth every time you go to the dentist like she does? I know so much about my daughter but there is so much more that is unknown.
And with the unknown, there is always fear. Fear that I am not doing a good job. Fear that my child will grow up to hate me one day like so many other adoptees before her. Fear that she doesn’t feel loved enough on a daily basis.
But I can’t give in to that fear.
I have to choose love.
So even though we are strangers, and I don’t know anything about you, what I do know, is that I am grateful for you. Grateful that you chose life for our beautiful daughter. Grateful that you carried her for 9 months in your womb. Grateful for the 8 days in the hospital that you spent together. Grateful for the rich and beautiful heritage that you passed on to her.
Because God knew that the world needed a Rose. God knew that this family needed a Rose. God knew that I needed a Rose.
So, I want to say thank you. From the bottom of my heart, thank you. I hope you have the opportunity one day to find out everything about our daughter. Until then, I will be the best mother to her that I can be.
With gratitude,
Katie
Author's Note: If you like this post, check out its inspiration! Vanessa’s wonderful post on her own experience here.