So I found the key and combo and opened the safe. I pulled out the familiar navy blue folder and brought it back to bed. First I showed Owen his Kazakh passport (which he thought was pretty cool and wondered if could double as a driver's license), then some of the other records we have of his birth.
"OK Mom, but where's that picture?"
I'm not going to pretend I wasn't a little nervous. I wasn't sure what other questions Owen might ask, or how I'd answer them. I wasn't even sure how I'd feel watching my baby look at his first mom's face. But it was time.
I handed him the single sheet containing a photocopy of his mother's country ID. He peered at it, turned to look at me, then gazed at it again.
"What are you thinking Owen?".
Silence.
"Hmmm. Not what I was expecting". And with that he handed the paper back to me and curled into my arms.
We talked a bit more about her. Her name, her age, the tiny village that was her home. We talked about her eyes and hair, and how Owen must look more like his bio father. We talked a little more about things that are Owen's to share - or not. He was fine, ready for sleep, my little boy. And as I exhaled and carefully tucked everything back in the safe, I renewed my silent promise to his first mom.
I will always praise her to Owen. I will make sure he knows about her, and respects her. I will always answer any question as best I can, and if the day comes that he wants to seek her out, I will help him do that. After all, having a first mother doesn't make me any less his mom.
Happy Mother's Day to ALL moms, all the world over.
1 comment:
You have chosen such a beautiful attitude. I wish all birth moms could see themselves as making the best choice for their child rather than abandoning them. When I went through my training at the pregnancy center I was devastated to learn that many women feel abortion is preferable to adoption. I'm so glad Owens birth mom gave him to you and to us as a family. We will be forever grateful.
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