Disclaimer: The below post is written as promised but the feelings expressed below haven't been worked out yet. So keep your expectations low and your mind open.
When I was a child, Mother's Day was complicated. It was a day to share my thanks for all the things Mary did every day. But it was also a day that reminded me of my first mother. Because of that, I felt confused, sad, angry and everything in between.
When I was just about to give birth to Jacob, Mother's Day arrived with a touching little note from my unborn son. I'm not proud of it but I remember wishing there was more to it. I think I had it in my head that the day was supposed to be this spectacular event, one where I felt showered with love, attention and appreciation. What I discovered every year after is that it's not about "stuff," it's about love. Ask anyone I've worked with and they'll tell you, I walk around with the coffee mug from my first Mother's Day, made especially by my almost one-year-old son, like it's the best thing ever. Because to me, it is.
Over the past few years, Mother's Day has become a day to slow down -- no plans, no parties, just us. We buy a little something for our mothers up north and back east... and I usually am way behind in actually sending them, just like this year. Do you notice a pattern there in my posts?
Last year, Mother's Day arrived just hours after I got off the plane from visiting Lucy in Taiwan. It was a day filled with mixed emotions -- grateful to have the day with my boys, but a piece of me still in Taiwan with my little girl.
This year, I was all over the place. While the feelings from when I was a little girl remain... the feelings of exhilaration that my family is together pump through my blood and make me feel like the happiest girl in the world. But this year, I found my thoughts constantly wandering to a new place -- Lucy's first mom.
When we were researching and discussing adoption, one reason we went international was to avoid the "messiness" of an open adoption. We weren't interested in bringing another family into ours, creating questions, feelings and confusion that we didn't think we were prepared for or equipped to deal with. Call us selfish but it's important to know your strengths and weaknesses when venturing on such an important path and those were our feelings.
But since Lucy has actually come home to us, I find myself thinking of her first mom regularly -- Would she see how much we love Lucy? Would she judge us for all the mistakes we make? I can't help but wonder how the rest of Lucy's first family are feeling. Are they regretting giving her up and her moving halfway across the world? Do they talk about her? Keep a picture of her on the mantle? Every child has a story -- Lucy is no different. While I don't find it necessary to go into hers here, I do wonder about extended people in her first family and how they've coped with the loss of a vibrant, beautiful, animated, opinionated ball of fire in their lives.
Do they have any idea what they're missing? I do.
And I feel so sorry for them. And with every passing day, I think of all the questions I have for them and the things I want to tell them. Maybe there will be a day when we can have some contact through our agency and Lucy can get more information about where she came from. But for now, I will just think good thoughts for them, hoping Lucy's first mom is looking down, wherever she is, and is proud of her daughter.
Because I know we are.