July 13, 2001

Dear "HisParents"...

Dear HisParents,

It's been a whole year now. He's 19 this year, today. I haven't called or written since the mediator called you and gave you my information. I'm trying to be adult about all of this and remember that I can't always get what I want. I want so much though, and at the same time, so little. I want to know that he had a good life with you. I want to know that I did the right thing so many years ago. I want to know that the pain and heartache was all worth it in the end, because it should be. He should be happy and healthy and in school and have great friends and a wonderful relationship with you. But you see, there's a tiny part of me that is a little bitter. Not bitter at the decision that I made, but at you. It was explained to you how I found you, that I was completely passive in my search. How it was a fluke that some other mother was looking for her son born on the same day at the same hospital. She dumped all the information in my email and it was just evident that it was you and me, connected there by those names.

There is a huge part of me that doesn't want to interfere, doesn't want to intrude on your family and cause any kind of disruption. The problem is, I have your words hanging in my head, in my memory...."We'll always tell the baby about you, and the gift that you are giving to us" Do you know that is what the lawyer told me? Was he just blowing smoke up my ass? I've hung onto those words for 18 years, waiting until his birthday to register online and put my name out there. I've hung onto those words with the hope that some day he would want to find me, to see me, to at least tell me to go to hell, something...anything.

I want to believe that you gave HIM the choice in this matter. I don't know that though because I haven't heard a peep, a word, a sound. I thought that your knowing that I live on the other side of the world right now would make it easier for you. That you wouldn't worry about my just showing up like some other birth mothers have done. I would never do that. I thought that by having someone else, a mediator, call would be easier on you. I thought that my silence this past year would reward me with at least a letter. Just tell me that he's OK. Does he have my blue eyes? My cleft chin? My dark hair? My laid back attitude? My patience? My temper? My love of home and family? My wide feet? My ability to raise one eyebrow?

I long to know these things. I also try and remind myself that I can't even begin to put myself in your shoes. Do you feel threatened? Are you scared of me? While I can't imagine anyone being afraid of me, I can understand your trepidation in this matter. It is your child. You want to protect them. You want to keep them safe from all of the psychos and weirdos and bad people. The thing is, I want the same thing for my child, my daughter. Yes, he's got a half sister here. She knows about him and occasionally asks why he doesn't call or write or email like everyone else. What shall I tell her? I simply tell her, for now, that I don't know why, that we just have to be patient and wait.

I was 15 when I got pregnant with him. I was young and scared and stupid. I did what I thought was the best thing for the baby. I stood in front of the judge that day and cried as he yelled at me. I stood there shamed for what I was doing, shamed by his words and attitude towards me. I had just spent 5 days in the hospital, in a room that you paid for, not seeing the baby that I had just had. I was scared. Scared that I would love him too much and take him back from you. Scared that you might be there. Just scared. Now I'm scared that I'll never know, never see him, never know how his life is with you.

Love,
me

Posted by rowEn at 01:13 PM | Comments (2314)