Letters to Lillian

Letters to Lillian
First it was two,
then we had you.
Now we have everything.

Letters to Lilly,
our daughter through adoption.

Friday, May 11, 2012

When you are a mother, you are never really alone in your thoughts. A mother always has to think twice, once for herself and once for her child.

Little One, it's been a crazy long week! I've been in Philadelphia for most of the week for work, and Rick has been home. It's been tough being away, but it was a good distraction from the impending black cloud of Mothers Day this weekend.

That was until tonight, when your Dad and I made the pilgrimage to look at Mothers Day cards at Target. Pouring through pink envelopes filled with sappy sentiments, cheap jokes and childish poems we found an odd card among the mounds of Mothers Day greetings. A card about waiting. The label actually said it was an adoption card. It even included the phrase, "you can finally bring your little one home."

And it hit me, Lo. This card was in the Mothers Day section, because I am amother. I'm just a childless mother.

 

It's a weird predicament not many would understand.

Lately I've been thinking a lot about motherhood. What does motherhood mean? How do you define it? When in adoption do you actually become a mother? Am I a mother because this is our decision? Am I a mother when you're placed in my arms? Am I a mother when the home study is complete? Am I a mother when the final adoption paperwork is signed?

 

I believe it's all of the above and none of the above. I am your mother now. I put your needs before my own, I think about you night and day, I live and breathe and would take a bullet for you. My every breath is only an effort for me to live to move one step closer to you. For the shot to hold you in my arms. For the chance to be your mother. I'm going through hell in my own head and heart in order to just have a glimmer of hope to be your parent. I love you more than life itself.  

My God, if that isn't a parent then I don't know what the hell is.

 

I am a mother. I am expecting you, I just don't know when. I have to say, maybe selfishly, that takes a bit of the sting off of mothers day. In the past, I didn't feel like a mother on mothers day, I felt like a woman who was bitter over infertility. There is still that woman inside of me, fighting to come out and hem and haw at mothers day cards and hallmark commercials. But then the adoptive Mother bear in me comes alive and fights that bitter woman down. and roars in her protective voice, "I AM a mother, whether society sees it or not."

It doesn't matter that you're not here yet. Motherhood to me means love, protection, fighting for your children tooth and nail for them to have the best life possible, nurturing, caring, placing the needs of your kid before your own. I do all of that and more already, I am Mom.

It might not be traditional parenting yet. I'm not yet changing your diapers, feeding you a bottle, watching you drift peacefully to sleep in your car seat on a long ride home. But I'm placing fliers up, handing out our business card, cleaning up for social workers, going to adoption seminars. I'm laying the groundwork for the diapers and bottles and car seat naps of the future.

My love for you surpasses everything right now. I love you beyond what a greeting card encompasses.

 

And Hallmark doesn't make a card for that.

 

Waiting for the Mothers Day card aisle of next year,

Love,

Mom

No comments:

Post a Comment