Their Favorite Mom

The other day my daughter shared some letters she had written to each member of her family, including one to her birth mother, who is dead, and one to me. The letter to me was heartfelt and said how much she loved me. The letter to her birth mother, which she wanted me to read, said that my daughter would always love her birth mother the most. I told her it was OK that her birth mother has first place in her heart, and that she wasn’t hurting my feelings. I wasn’t lying. Read More Their Favorite Mom

Three Years In

I am fortunate to have pictures of my children when they were first taken from their family, before we came together through adoption. They are not easy to look at. My son is little more than a baby. He is tiny for his age, but the expression on his face is not childish. He is enraged, his brow furrowed. Even in the pictures where he is crying, his face is contorted with fury and pain. Without being there, I can tell that the tears are scalding hot on his face. His expression seems to say, “I knew this would happen.” He is being punished, and he knows why: it is not his fault, but he should have been able to prevent it. Read More Three Years In