The Other Mother

As time plods on in our home, thoughts of the whole "adoption" thing kind of dim because it stops being anything out of the ordinary and simply becomes…well, life.

Logically I know that Daniel came from another mother. He has been asking these questions lately. Questions that I am at a loss to answer. Partly because I, quite simply, don't know, and partly because what I do know isn't heartwarming. 

I don't know much. A name. A situation.

This used to bother me. I wanted answers. I wanted to know the "why's."

What God gave me was a dream. 

I was sitting in a small room, like an exam room at a doctor's office. I had Daniel in my lap. Across from me sat a beautiful woman. 

Golden hair. Blue eyes. Freckles. Healthy.

She seemed to almost radiate light.

In my dream, I wondered who she was and was filled with the knowledge that this was Daniel's biological mother.

My mind said "No" it isn't logical that she would have looked like this, given the information I have.

Then I was filled with warmth and love and I heard God say, "This is how I see her."

All the anger that I had toward her dissolved after the dream, back in January of this year.

The thing is, all parents want to protect their kids' stories. Especially adoptive parents who have an ounce of caring, because really, even in the most ideal adoptive situation, there is heartache and loss. Profound loss.

My son's story is nothing that I sit and flippantly talk about. Ever. It is sacred.

And yet, as time passes and the wrinkles start to smooth out, I can go days without thinking about him being adopted. Weeks without thinking about the yuck he came out of. 

The irony of reaching that point is now Daniel starts with the questions. And the speculations. And the fantastic stories.

Do I ignore it? Validate it? Lay the facts out, sparing no hurt?

The fact is there was a woman, someone who I have never, nor will ever meet, yet who's decisions have changed my life and to whom I am connected with until the day I die. And she is one big question mark. I can't help loving her and feeling compassion toward her. And thinking about what a cool kid she had and how it is sad that she lost out, for whatever reasons, on seeing him grow and develop.

And if the above is true for me, it is even more true for Daniel.