Tuesday, June 2, 2015

Dear Birth Mom

Today I brought your son to you for a goodbye visit.

He screams as he leaves my arms.  The pain in your eyes - I have to look away.

You get two hours.

Two hours to say goodbye to the little boy who once lived inside you.  Your only son.  Are you remembering the first time you felt him move inside your womb?  Do you see his dimple and think about the first time he smiled at you?

Then it is time.  What must have passed all too quickly for you seemed an eternity to me.  He excitedly reaches for me squealing, "Mama," and I see your defeat.

I put him in the car.  You lean in once more for your last kiss, and I close the door.

You hug me and plead with me, "Make sure he remembers how much I love him."

I hug you back, "Of course."

And this song starts playing in my head.  Songs tend to haunt me.  Lurking in my mind.  Cropping up when I least expect them to.  This one has been following me for several months now.  Tonight, I hear it, and my heart breaks for you, dear birth mother.


Tomorrow we will stand before a judge to hear one word:

Termination.

The word we have been waiting to hear.  The very word you dread.

I had been eagerly anticipating this day, but after today I am just a mangled mess of emotions.

It is so easy to judge a person's actions from afar.  But the foster care process is not one that can be viewed from afar.  We have had a front row seat for all of your failures.  But we also have learned your past.  Where you came from.

Who would I be today if I had lived your life?  Born into a broken home.  Unwanted by my own mother.  Surrounded on all sides by drugs and violence.

I pray for you.  That you become free of your addictions.  That you are able to "lay down your burdens" and find "earth has no sorrow that Heaven can't heal."

I find myself imagining Heaven.  Us sitting at the table together and seeing him run to us.  Knowing us both as Mama.  You see, he is not your son, or my son.  He is our son.  You chose life, when death would have been much easier.  For that, I will be forever grateful to you.



You are far.  Far from where you need to be.  But you are not too far.  There is no such thing.  Jesus longs to see you healed.  Maybe one day you can be in your son's life again.  Until then, I will guard him.  I will be Mama to him.

One day.  One day, dear.  The addictions will lose their power.  One day you will find something of his and feel the pain all over again.  I know this does not make it easier, but know he is loved.  Fiercely.

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