Dear Birth Moms,
Mother’s Day is just a few days away and, for some reason, along with all the other amazing mothers in my life, I keep thinking about both of you.
I am not sure why.
If I am being honest, I rarely if ever think about the fact that our two wonderful daughters are adopted. They both so seamlessly entered our lives in such natural ways that it is never an issue. We have three kids. Three wonderful, beautiful, healthy kids. The fact that two were adopted and one was not never makes much of a difference.
But as we get closer to Mother’s Day, I’ve been thinking about both of you.
I think part of the reason why is because, for our family, there was a pretty big chunk of time where Mother’s Day was anything but a happy occasion. I would dread the week leading up to that Sunday, knowing it would be so hard on my wife and knowing there wasn’t much I could do to take away her pain.
As I thought about how much different Mother’s Day is for us now (maybe the best weekend of the year) I started to wonder how Mother’s Day might be for you and it occurred that maybe it isn’t such a happy day.
So I decided I would write you a little note to let you know how much I appreciate you and how even though you might not be here every day, you will always be a part of the lives of the young ladies you designated to our care.
Karey and I often talk about how you are both our heroes. We know that the situations that led to the births of our daughters were difficult and even heart-wrenching times. But during that time you made the decision not to think of yourself, but to think of that precious child. You wanted the best for her and despite it being anything but easy, you fought to make sure they would be taken care of forever and in the best way possible.
And let me tell you.. they are both amazing.
Clara came to us when she was only five weeks old and a remarkable five pounds. This was after being born early and a lengthy stay in the NICU. Today she is perfectly healthy. There is not a visible hint of her premature birth and she is smart as a whip. She remembers small details we often forget, sings on tune like a perfect angel, is a constant defender of her little brother and is becoming a pretty talented artist.
In fact, despite only being four years old (although she claims she is five), she is already writing her name and a few words. Let’s just say I find it appropriate that the first word she learned how to write all by herself was “love." And she writes it everywhere she gets a chance.
Esther is a special girl as well.
I want you to know what amazing little people they are because none of that is possible without you. You hold a special, irreplaceable position in their lives. We never hide that from them. They know where they came from. They know their unique story and they know you are the ones that deserve the credit.
You made a tough decision to place your most precious possession in our care and I can tell you confidently it was a wise one. Primarily because of the woman you let your children call “mom.”
This weekend we will celebrate my amazing wife, who prayed her entire life toward only one goal. To be a mother. Despite that desire, God saw it fit to withhold that gift for five years, for a reason we, at the time, never understood. But all that pain went away the day we got a call that Clara was in need of our care. From that moment Karey’s central focus in this world is to give your babies all the love and care that you could have ever hoped for. There is literally nothing that shakes her from that mission. She does it with grace, with compassion and she does it in honor of the gift you gave us both.
I told you at the start of this letter that I don’t think that often about the fact that Clara and Essie are adopted and that is not 100-percent true.
From time to time there are these moments. They usually start with a big hug that includes an incredible squeeze (both of them are pretty solid squeezers).
In that moment I can’t express my love for both of them enough. It gushes out of me. I feel this need to thank someone, anyone, for the honor of being able to hold this incredible creature so close. I almost always thank God, but lately I found myself quietly thanking you. Thank you for honoring me with the responsibility of their fatherhood. Thank you for this gift.
Obviously there is no way I could ever repay this gift. So all I can do is make you this eternal promise: I will take care of these two girls with every single fiber in my being. I will protect them, I will defend them, I will make sure no harm will ever come to them. But most importantly, I will love them. I will love them every single second of every single day and I will make sure they know you love them as well.
So if Sunday rolls around and the idea of Mother’s Day puts a small pit in your stomach, I hope the knowledge that your babies are as happy and as healthy as they could possibly be makes things a little bit easier.
I am sure it won’t take away all of the pain…. But please find some small comfort in the knowledge that we couldn't possibly love these girls more, and we will never take the incredible responsibility you have given us for granted.
Happy Mother’s Day,
Ryan
