Once there were two women who never knew each other.

One, my darling, is your birth mom and the other is your mother.

Two different lives, shaped to make yours one.

One became your guiding star; the other became your sun.

The first gave you life, and the second taught you to live it

The first gave you a need for love, and the second was there to give it.

One gave you a nationality; the other gave you a name.

One gave you the seed of talent, the other gave you aim.

One gave you emotions; the other calmed your fears.

One saw your first sweet smile; the other dried your tears.

One chose adoption. It was all that she could do.

The other prayed for a child, and God led her straight to you.

And now you ask me through your tears,

The age-old question through the years;

Heredity or environment, which are you the product of?

Neither, my darling, neither. Just two different kinds of love.

~ Author Unknown ~

A friend gave me a copy of this poem soon after our daughter was born. It touched my heart and I loved how the overall theme was that both mothers, birth and adoptive, are critical to that child’s life. In a way, I felt that birth mothers were honored in this poem, and that mattered to me. It mattered a lot.

As time has passed and I reread this poem, I still have warm feelings because it reminds me of the experiences we had during that time in my life. However, the joys of open adoption have proven to me that both my child’s birth mother and I are there to wipe tears. We are both there to encourage and give aim to their talents. But most importantly, we are both there to give love.

I grew up in a household with a very strong and encouraging mother. I felt loved and safe at home. She was always my biggest cheerleader and made me feel like I could accomplish anything. I’ve done as much as I have in my life in large part because of her example and her undying faith in me. My mom’s a rock star. What makes it even better is that there were so many other women in my life who also mothered me with their smiles, hugs, encouraging words, sympathetic tears, and pure love. It was a blessing and a gift. Why would I want anything else for my own children? And why on Earth would I ever desire to have the woman who gave birth to my child not be a part of her life?

How grateful I am for the love we share for our child.

How grateful I am that there is trust between us.

How grateful I am that my son can one day ask his birth mother questions (if he chooses) that only she can answer.

How immensely grateful I am that we live in truth, knowing our stories.

How grateful I am that my children are surrounded by so much love.

How immensely grateful I am that my children have a beautiful legacy of two mothers and that legacy is oozing with unconditional love.