As the mom to 11 you would assume my Mothers Day would be full of dandy lions in jam jars and homemade cards, and it is to a point. But Mothers Day digs up a lot of issues within our family they are painful to work through. Our eight adoptions represent 6 different women who gave birth to our children and then released them into our family.
Some did it intentionally and with careful planning, others had no choice and have no idea that their children are safely in our home today. Can you imagine not knowing where your baby is? A week, three years or ten years after they are born having no idea of how they are faring.
Being that baby is not easy either. I field questions about relinquishment's, photos, biological fathers, addictions, prison and strangely, the hardest questions of all are those that ask 'who do I look like?' There is something so elemental in that question, so identifying and basic that we overlook it in our adoption stories and a gap is left in their hearts. For some of them I have photos we can look at or physical descriptions, for others there is a gaping silence to that question.
Not that they don't love me as their mother, but they don't have have my eyes or my hair or my nose. When they look into the mirror their faces are made up of the pieces of strangers, mysterious and missing in their life. It doesn't bother me, I am not threatened or angry that we talk about these things on Mothers Day. It simply is a fact that I was not the mother that bore my children and there is nothing I can do to change the pain hidden deep in their wondering hearts.