Two moms...
I was reading an old journal of mine. From 1992...in the entry, I wrote about my relationship with my daughter's birth mom. And that brought me to my relationship with my son's birth mom. Another time around and this time very different from the first one. But this relationship, the one between an adoptive mom and her shared partner..the other mom, is something to speak about. I think every adopting mom has this relationship, whether you have an open adoption or not. You know that there is another mom there in the background somewhere. Someone who has a place in your life, whether you want it or not.
This business of two moms is not the meant way to be. In a perfect world, the intention is for a child to have a mom, period. There is only supposed to be one mom, that's the whole point of a mom, that you are the one. In fact, it's kind of what makes being a mom so fun..that it isn't a shared deal. But in this messy world of ours, everything is pretty topsy and it seems there are moms galore. And because its all rather complicated and convoluted we just pretend or ignore and even deny the very presence of this other person in our heart.
I feel that relationship with my baby's birth mom in my body, something in my deep down and that crazy and intense something, makes parent releases, conversations, and home visits all seem rather a charade to the process. There is an ache. Its there in your stomach, in your throat or in your hollow place.
On top of that, there are emotions.
There is the guilt you have because you can raise this child and they can't, that your the one with the dinner conversations, the one who holds the memories of their child's childhood.
The anger, that they don't seem to care or remember and that they don't appreciate what you do-picking your child up every day after school, maybe they don't call on birthdays or they disappear for months or years at a time.
The sadness, the terrible deep sadness for the babies and mamas that don't get to be together. And the loss and grief for all the parts of your child's life that you weren't a part of. That irrational wishing that you had carried them in your womb which makes no sense at all. And I won't bring up the fears- that's a little scary to write about.
So back to every day please, because when I have a relationship with these moms, we keep it simple. We talk and laugh and show concern and respect for one another. We talk about our other children and what is going on here and there. I love my "partner moms" these people who were brave and raised their children to the best that they could but ended up leaving a child in my arms.
The everyday casual conversation sometimes makes it look like or even make it seems to me that these relationships are casual and not important. But actually, I have two women who I share the mom status with, and even though I'm the mom, the one responsible to parent, we are partners. For that, these women have a spot in a very deep and personal part of my heart. I'm grateful for that.
This business of two moms is not the meant way to be. In a perfect world, the intention is for a child to have a mom, period. There is only supposed to be one mom, that's the whole point of a mom, that you are the one. In fact, it's kind of what makes being a mom so fun..that it isn't a shared deal. But in this messy world of ours, everything is pretty topsy and it seems there are moms galore. And because its all rather complicated and convoluted we just pretend or ignore and even deny the very presence of this other person in our heart.
I feel that relationship with my baby's birth mom in my body, something in my deep down and that crazy and intense something, makes parent releases, conversations, and home visits all seem rather a charade to the process. There is an ache. Its there in your stomach, in your throat or in your hollow place.
On top of that, there are emotions.
There is the guilt you have because you can raise this child and they can't, that your the one with the dinner conversations, the one who holds the memories of their child's childhood.
The anger, that they don't seem to care or remember and that they don't appreciate what you do-picking your child up every day after school, maybe they don't call on birthdays or they disappear for months or years at a time.
The sadness, the terrible deep sadness for the babies and mamas that don't get to be together. And the loss and grief for all the parts of your child's life that you weren't a part of. That irrational wishing that you had carried them in your womb which makes no sense at all. And I won't bring up the fears- that's a little scary to write about.
So back to every day please, because when I have a relationship with these moms, we keep it simple. We talk and laugh and show concern and respect for one another. We talk about our other children and what is going on here and there. I love my "partner moms" these people who were brave and raised their children to the best that they could but ended up leaving a child in my arms.
The everyday casual conversation sometimes makes it look like or even make it seems to me that these relationships are casual and not important. But actually, I have two women who I share the mom status with, and even though I'm the mom, the one responsible to parent, we are partners. For that, these women have a spot in a very deep and personal part of my heart. I'm grateful for that.
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