I Chose Adoption for My Birth Daughter, But I’ll Never Stop Mothering Her | Truly Mama
I am a mom in many different ways.
I am a mom of five children at home.
I am a mom of two babies in heaven.
I am a birth mother to one.
I mother all of my children differently to meet their own unique needs, whether they are in my home or not. For the children I parent in my home-mamas, you know the drill. I’m there to provide nutrients so their bodies grow healthy and strong (serving what feels like 500 times a day!). I’m there to serve up Band-Aids on boo-boos and give tear-stained shirt hugs. I’m there to listen to my teenager in the wee hours of the night about friendship tensions. I’m there to find the missing shoe and delegate chores so just maybe we can keep track of things when they are in the right place. I’m there for carpool lines, for homework help, for doctor visits, and for all the million and one things in a day that feel unnoticed but are crucial to keeping a household running.
I’m there in so many ways as a mother, but as a birth mom, my role is different. It’s none of the above-and so much more.
Mothering Beyond “Mom”
Legally, I signed relinquishment papers for my birth daughter 16 years ago, when I was just 16 years old myself. Yet, because I chose an open adoption for her, our situation is a bit different than some other adoptive families. I’ve still been around since she was born to watch her grow. I’m still here to answer her questions as she fills in the puzzle pieces of her roots. And I’m still here, “mothering” her in a way that is unique to us both.
“Mom” is a title and role I chose to surrender to give her the family she deserved when we weren’t in a place to be that for her. I chose her mom and dad with care and with much prayer, and I love the relationship they have together. Her mom’s role is one much like I have with my children in my home, a daily presence she can depend on.
But, there is still something uniquely beautiful about my relationship with my birth daughter. No, I’m not her mom in a daily sense, but I am still her mom in a heart-to-heart way. I still am one of her mothers and she considers me to be so. It’s complex. It’s beautiful in a way not many understand. She grew for 9 months hearing my heartbeat from within and I felt her tiny thumping kicks in my 11th grade classes as I took notes.
Originally published at https://www.trulymama.com.