I’ve sat down a few times now trying to approach this subject. Like many post-adoption related subjects I look at it from two perspectives. One being the side of the adoptive mom and the other the adoptee. I guess I’m lucky in that respect. I have a small sense of what it is like for my son. Granted I wasn’t an international adoptee, but I am an adoptee nonetheless. Moreover, I am a healthy and well adjusted one. My mom did something right along the way for me to not hate her, my family and to love the fact that I am an adoptee.
However, as my first official Mother’s Day arrives I have seen many posts pop up about honoring our children’s birth moms. This concept puzzles me. As a child, or adult, we never sat down to do something special for my birth mom. We didn’t light a candle, color her a special picture, write her a letter or any of the other suggestions people come up with. We celebrated Mom. My mom. The lady who raised me. Maybe it’s because I don’t consider my birth mom a mom. Like I have always said, she is the lady who gave birth to me. My mom is the one who raised me. I’m not bitter toward her. But I don’t have this deep seeded love I need to give her either. Therefore I find it hard as an adoptive mom to celebrate my son’s birth mother.
My son is only 2. He has no concept of adoption. He knows he’s from Russia. Just ask him, “where are you from?” “Wut-ah,” he will tell you. That is as far as it goes. I think as a parent the best I can do is to let him guide me. There is no hard and fast rule here. On the third Thursday after the fifth birthday you will sit down and tell you child all about their adoption. There isn’t any of that stuff out there. It is more of a let your child guide you. Or at least that is my plan.
This Mother’s day I plan to spend it with my son and my husband. I’ve had far too many Mother’s Days where I sat in a corner and cried. I’ve been angry at God, the world and myself. This year I am no longer angry. I am a Mother and I have the best gift anyone could ever give me. Today I say a special prayer of thanks for the woman that gave me that gift. It is our bond. But as far as my son goes, I am his mom.