Judy M. Miller, MA
With Mother’s Day approaching I have, of course, been thinking about being a mom
more than the usual—beyond myusual caretaking responsibilities, domestic diva-ing, taxi schedule, and work. I’ve thought about how privileged
I am to be a mom, how sacred
my role is. Perhaps, because motherhood came later for me it has been that much sweeter and richer. Perhaps, more significantly, it has been the rocky journey to create a family that I traveled with my awesome husband.
My younger daughter once asked me, “Mama, what is the biggest miracle you’ve ever had?”
I responded, “It’s each of you—my children.”
Of course I got a brilliant smile and a delicious break-me–into-two-pieces hug from her.
But, I meant what I said. My children are miracles. And when I think back to how they all came into being and became part of me and “us,” well, I am humbled to my very core.
Being a mom was something I always wanted. I could taste it. I wanted four to five children at a minimum, and my husband and I seriously considered up to a dozen. (Finances, age, energy, patience, sleep deprivation, worrying… have a way of bringing reality to the forefront.) I pictured my kiddos as a kaleidoscope of little people, a mixed assortment. I was fortunate to have met, fallen in love with, and married a man who shared my vision.
Although adoption was always part of our plan we did not expect that we would become adoptive parents because of loss
, but because we chose to adopt
. We grieved and we moved forward; intent on building our family
with love, compassion, dedication, and commitment. We adopted, following our hearts—not once or twice, but three times.
The journey, the scope, of parenting children who have been adopted evolves as they move through developmental stages. Of course, each child varies considerably from the other, as is true in any family. Kids arrive with prewired temperaments, regardless of how they become part of the family.
But there are always those events, triggers
, which can remind parents and children about adoption. One such trigger is Mother’s Day. Up to this point, there has been no “fall-out” among my kiddos, but I feel sadness intertwine with the profound joy and gratitude of being their mother.
Three other women carried my children, nurtured them in their wombs and brought them forth into this world only to face the painful decision to relinquish. On this Mother’s Day I again quietly share “my day” with the three most significant women I do not know—my children’s birth mothers. I do so because I choose to. I thank these remarkable women whose invisible features reside in my children’s faces. Although unknown, they are deeply loved and respected. They are part of my family because they are part of my children.
I pray for their health, peace, happiness, and self-love. And I send them my love, always. Happy Mother’s Day!
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