Advertisements
Happy birthday my love. Thirty years old today! Wow. I do not think I can say anything more than I have said since I began posting on these blogs where you were 17. You are so very loved. I pray you know that. You were never "not wanted", there was just no way to keep you and ensure your safety. I was in a bad situation. All of this is just me repeating hoping against hope that you or your adoptive parents are reading this and that I can find some magic word or phrase that will make you reach out to me. It's been 30 years and I tried to take my sisters advice and celebrate on this day. Knowing that I, no, that we, your birth dad and I, made the best decision we could at the time. I tried it for a year and failed miserably. For your birthday my love, I have nothing to give you but what I can do is take away these posts that I put up every year. It is my burden I guess to carry this until I die. I hope you reach out to your sister. That is what I really hope. Someone reads these posts, I don't know who it is, I guess I kind of hope it's you or your adoptive mom or someone in your family. Now that they number the views clearly, it seems that interest in me and my words are waning. Much like the changing of formats of this forum, I just can't do this anymore. Every year starting on March 20th I relive almost every moment. I paralyze myself with tears and overwhelming sadness and I can tell you physically that it takes days to heal now after your birthday. My burden, not yours. I wish you had decided to reach out and find me when I was healthy and able to travel more than a few blocks. I used to be quite fun. We could have done many things and I could have taken you to meet so many of your family members, but it seems like a lifetime ago, because they are dead, and I am not the young woman I used to be. I am physically disabled now and have been for a few years. I hope it isn't something that has affected you. It began with my Mom, it hit me, and my little sister, and it's hurting your little sister now too. Your sister moved in with her beau, and she is so happy. She just facetimed me to check on me, and of course I was a wreck, big shock. She is the first one to come to me with hugs and kisses and now I am alone. Your Dad is at work, and my family , well, as I type this, my mom called and your Aunt Teresa too. She gives me the update on the weather every year because she is still there, only in Rio Rancho now instead of Albuquerque. It was so warm when I had you. I don't remember having a coat but then again, we were at the hospital at 4am to induce me. You were two weeks past due, emotionally, I was not letting you go. To be told I was 42 weeks by measuring was really weird. I am all over the place in this post. Let me collect it together... I love you. Every time you shower and scrub your belly button, know that you are connected to me forever. That is what you carry of me with you forever. There is an invisible thread that will always lead you to me. I fed you and nourished your little body through your umbilical cord. That is the last and only thing you have from me. Unless your adoptive mom gave you the letters and photos. Don't be afraid to reach out. Just because I cannot do this, this emotional torture anymore doesn't mean I don't love you, it means that I get physically sick living in emotions. I pray your life has been full of love and understanding and respect and I hope you never had to want for anything in your life. I hope the life I saw for you was the life you ended up with. Don't feel like you are betraying your adoptive parents by simply reaching out to me, because after 9/11 I make myself hysterical thinking I lost you and no one told me. Just to know that you are alive and happy is all I ever wanted. I love you.
That was the last time I held you. They came and took you from me a short time after this photo. I love you my son.
That was the last time I held you. They came and took you from me a short time after this photo. I love you my son.
Like
Share