The gift I couldn't give ...

Cross posting this from the Aparent Forum so maybe more could read it. My sons were adopted from foster care at the ages of 3 and 4. They had the usual regalia of history that is normally associated with foster children. Shortly thereafter it became apparent (particularly for our oldest son, Greg) that some contact with his birthparents would be beneficial to him. He is a serious sort - a worrier and knowing that his birthmom was ok brought him great peace. I considered that a gift to him. Their birthdad has a scary history. And according to what we knew, we maybe should of stayed far away from him. But the boys birthmom has some personal issues and those issues interferred with her ability to maintian contact with us on a consistent basis and that was causing our boys pain. So we took a chance and found their birthdad. He has turned out to be a wonderful, respectful, kind and hurting man, and father, who will be in prison until my sons are close to 30. He has cherished contact with us and we are so thankful we took the risk to contact him. I consider finding him a gift to my sons. Yesterday, my son, Greg, turned 10. A decade - its amazing. My pudgy cheeked toddler is a young man. Broad shoulders, smelly clothes and a voracious appetite. For his birthday we bought him books, new skates, some cds and other odds and ends. But there was a gift we couldn't give him. The gift of knowing what it was like the day he was born. The gift of knowing what his first family felt when they saw him. The gift of knowing if he was loved back then. His birthdad gave him that gift. A three page letter that talked to Greg all about the day he was born. About the trip to the hospital about what he was feeling. A letter full of love, encouragement and a sincere desire that his son would make different choices than he did. It was a gift I couldnt give but I am so incredibly grateful for the man, the father, who did. So for all of you who are terrified of openness, please look into the eyes of my son. A picture is worth a 1000 words. Jen