I can’t really account for why she’s come back, but surprisingly enough, she has. After a year and a half, and what seems like a million “nudges,” N. finally responded at the end of last week. I half-heartedly sent a PM of “hi there” on her FB page, knowing she wouldn’t respond, and then there she was. As if she’d never been gone. No explanations for the absence, or the reappearance (I wouldn’t ask for any), she’s just back. With that one “hi there,” we now have emailed several times, spoken over the phone with both the Woob and I, and are looking at our calendars for a visit each way.
All this makes me really, really happy. Really glad for my boy, and even for myself, as I had gotten to feeling like we were friends before. Maybe we are, but how would I know if we weren’t?
At the same time all of this makes me really, really nervous for us all, too. I’m afraid of fun and visits and familiarity being taken back again. Eighteen months from this side of it seems simply too long; the questions get too big, the silences are so loud. Ah, the risk of heartbreak…its a tough one.
I have heard other adoptive parents say they avoided openness, afraid that it would end and they’d be left holding their child’s heart in their hands. I’ve heard from first parents who’ve indicated the openness would be too hard, too painful to keep opening the wound and having to try to reheal after every contact. I don’t know that there’s any painless way to do adoption for anyone. I know I figure least in the whole equation by far. By its nature its just hard (understatement, I know) dealing with questions and separation and loss. But I do believe that this is worth the risk in the long run. Even if we don’t ever meet again, I think it has been worth it for Woob to know where he comes from, that they are “out there,” and that they love/d him. Right now it seems like we’re on the right track again to good things and I’m going to do whatever I can to keep that going for as long as I can. N. gets the task of taking responsibility for her own feelings and what she can and can’t do; what is or isn’t good for her, and while she’s letting us in, I’m going in. If she needs to back out again, she can (I just hope she warns us a bit first).
I believe its the right thing for us to pursue these relationships because Woob himself tells me in different ways all the time that his first family is on his mind. Here’s an example…hubby had a Montgomery Gentry cd in the car, and Woob kept wanting the song “something to be proud of” to be played each day on the way to school. I was getting pretty tired of that song! If you’re not familiar with it, here are the lyrics:
There’s a story that my daddy tells religiously
Like clockwork every time he sees an opening
In a conversation about the way things used to be
Well I’d just roll my eyes and make a bee-line for the door
But I’d always wind up starry-eyed, cross-legged on the floor
Hanging on to every word
Man, the things I heard
It was harder times and longer days
Five miles to school, uphill both ways
We were cane switch raised, and dirt floor poor
‘Course that was back before the war
Yeah, your uncle and I made quite a pair
Flying F-15’s through hostile air
He went down but they missed me by a hair
He’d always stop right there and say…
That’s something to be proud of
That’s a life you can hang your hat on
That’s a chin held high as the tears fall down
A gut sucked in, a chest stuck out
Like a small town flag a-flyin’
Or a newborn baby cryin’
In the arms of the woman that you love
That’s something to be proud of
Son graduatin’ college, that was mama’s dream
But I was on my way to anywhere else when I turned 18
Cuz when you gotta fast car you think you’ve got everything
I learned quick those GTO’s don’t run on faith
I ended up broken down in some town north of L.A.
Working maximum hours for minimum wage
Well, I fell in love, next thing I know
The babies came, the car got sold
I sure do miss that old hot rod
But you sure save gas in them foreign jobs
Dad, I wonder if I ever let you down
If you’re ashamed how I turned out
Well, he lowered his voice, then he raised his brow
Said, lemme tell ya right now
That’s something to be proud of
That’s a life you can hang your hat on
You don’t need to make a million
Just be thankful to be workin’
If you’re doing what you’re able
And putting food there on the table
And providing for the family that you love
That’s something to be proud of
And if all you ever really do is the best you can
Well, you did it man
That’s something to be proud of
That’s a life you can hang your hat on
That’s a chin held high as the tears fall down
A gut sucked in, a chest stuck out
Like a small town flag a-flyin’
Or a newborn baby cryin’
In the arms of the woman that you love
That’s something to be proud of
That’s something to be proud of
Yeah, that’s something to be proud of
That’s something to be proud of
Now that’s something to be proud of
So I asked when one day, when I couldn’t listen another time, “what is it that you like so much about this song?” He answered, “When he talks about the newborn baby crying, it makes me remember my mom.” And there it is. His ears are always listening, his eyes are always looking for her in different ways that there’s no way I can always tune into. Its important to him. So its important to me.
Letters to a Birthmother 
Beautifully written. I am the adoptive mother of two beautiful daughters now ages 29 and 23 both of whom are in open adoptions. I wouldn’t have it any other way.