Days spent in anguish, sadness and pain. Sleepless nights spent wondering. Questions unanswered, playing in my head. A scream deep in the soul waiting to be heard. Nightmares and fantasies run amok. Forever hoping and never knowing. The sound of a child’s voice – then it slips sway. Feeling like I’m losing my mind. Empathy abounds, but some emotions can never be shared. Personal, private emotions. A razor blade cutting my soul …blood oozing from the wound throughout eternity. There can be no end to the torment. Everyone wants to help, but there’s no way they can. No one can know the heartache. No one can feel the pain.
I’m alone with my thoughts – forever lost in the past. I can’t make it to the future. No reason to try. Lost in the world of “biological mothers.” Such a cold, unfeeling term. Wish I knew who was the first to think of us in that way. There should be a better way of referring to us. Is there no one that knows the love we felt for our children as we carried them beneath our hearts?
We are mothers in the truest sense of the word. Mother. No other word is needed. The truth is simple. Without us there are hundreds of thousands of people that would have no children. Adoptive parents wouldn’t know the joy of seeing a child smile for the (first) time. They would never have seen the first step or heard the sweet sound of a baby saying “Mama.” They are the ones that saw our children stand alone for the first time. They are the ones that took pictures of our children and their dates on prom night. The adoptive parents were there for graduations, weddings…and for the births of our grandchildren. I feel gratitude towards them, but know that we deserve respect for the roles we played in their lives. I know some wonderful adoptive parents with hearts big enough to allow someone else into the lives of their children. They are secure in their parental roles. They are not threatened by us.
You have nothing to fear from me. I can separate fantasy from the truth. I have no desire to take your child away. I have no delusions that I can. I only want you to share your memories with me. I would gladly share mine…if only you’d ask. No one has wondered how much I have suffered and no one has cared. There is more to life that this tunnel vision you have. If you look around you will see my face; you will know my pain. You will feel my ‘heartbeat’ and you will realize that I cannot harm you. You will know that is not my intention. Can you hear my soul scream? Maybe at night in your dreams? You know you have done me an injustice. You know you have denied me my God-given right – the right to know a child that I gave birth to. A child that was entrusted to your care. You know the love of my child in ways that I can only imagine.
Must you be so unkind to me? Has the thought crossed your mind that you may be denying ‘our’ child the right to know the woman that gave him life? I know you are protective, but ‘our’ child needs no protection from me. He needs to see my face and hear my voice. He needs me to answer the questions that only I can answer. Maybe the sound you hear in your dreams is the sound of ‘our’ child’s soul – screaming for completion.
