When we started the process to adopt the Little Lady, we knew we would have an open adoption — a relationship with the Little Lady’s birthmother.
Most people were surprised by this; open adoptions are still a relatively new way of handling the birthmother/child/adoptive parent relationship, and it isn’t a comfortable concept for most.
That wasn’t the case for the Hubby and me. We were excited that our daughter would have the chance to know her history and birth family. We loved the idea that she would know her birthmother, the woman who loved her first. I couldn’t wait to show off the Little Lady to Miss G (her birthmother) — couldn’t wait to share stories and antics with her — couldn’t wait to let her know that we were doing our absolute best to take care of her daughter.
I was confident in being “open.”
Then, I held the Little Lady for the first time and that confidence left. I no longer wanted to share my daughter with anyone else.
I cringe now, seeing that secret — in print — and remembering that feeling. I let selfishness and fear take over. I needed the Little Lady to be mine and mine alone. I didn’t want another woman in her life.
Sigh — so silly.
Two — wait, no — nearly THREE years later, I’ve learned a lot. About being a mom. About raising a daughter. About understanding what motherhood is really like.
And about sharing — that it is easier than I once thought and a big part of what makes me a good mommy for my Little Lady.
It’s good for the Little Lady to know Miss G and to recognize her in the picture that sits on a little white shelf in the Little Lady’s room.
It’s good for the Little Lady to know she “grew in Miss G’s tummy” and that Miss G gave us the Little Lady as our “very own present.”
It’s good for the Little Lady to know she was loved. Both before and after she was born. By both of her mommies.
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It’s good for the Little Lady to know her birthmother — as a person — which is one of the reasons I was excited to meet up with Miss G and her family a few weeks ago. My daughter would meet the woman who fashioned her, nurtured her, and placed her in my arms. The woman who chose her middle name and bought her the first stuffed animal she ever cuddled with.
And, she would get to meet her half-sister, Baby G.
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Of course, as someone who isn’t quite 3 (even though she thinks she’s 21), the Little Lady can’t understand everything. She doesn’t grasp the true concept of adoption — that level of comprehension is a few years away yet. But the dialogue has begun; there won’t be any “surprise, you’re adopted” moments in this family. Just another beautiful benefit of an open adoption.
Even through she didn’t really “get it,” the Little Lady was excited to meet Miss G and Baby G. She was excited because I was excited. Because I talked about it all week long — showing her pictures from that beautiful time in 2007. Because I showed her that Miss G was someone special.
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I’m not afraid to share my daughter or share the title of “mother” any longer because, somewhere over the past 33 months, I learned the only reason I have a daughter is thanks to someone — in June of 2007 — who was willing to share with me.
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