Dear Birth Mother,
Right now, you are carrying me in your tummy. You can feel me kick, you can tell what foods make me sick, and you have probably seen my heart beat at the doctor’s office. You know that I am a girl. You have thought of names and imagined what I will look like. Will I look like you? Will I look like my dad? Will I have blonde hair like him or dark brown hair like you? Will my eyes be the bluest blue or will they be chocolate brown like yours? Maybe I’ll be quiet and withdrawn or the funniest person in the world.
Sadly, you will never know. There are people that have told you that you aren’t fit to raise me. You don’t have enough money, you don’t have any family support, and my dad is already married. I was unplanned, but they say that there is a couple just waiting to raise me that is better qualified for the job.
What you need to know is this…. I will spend my whole life wondering why I wasn’t good enough for you. I will wonder why you wouldn’t want to keep this baby that grew inside of you. Every year on my birthday, I will cry. I will cry because you didn’t show up looking for me. I will never feel like I belong.
Strangers will say things to me like, “Aren’t you grateful to your parents for adopting you?” “Oh, you’re the one they adopted,” and “Are any of your siblings your REAL siblings?” All of this will make me feel left out. It will make me feel crazy for having any sadness about you abandoning me.
Forever, I will question whether or not my intuition is correct. When people are unsafe, I will know it in my gut, but I will question those feelings. You leaving me with people you have never met taught me that.
Every relationship I have will be affected by your decision to leave me. Every time there is a disagreement or my friends, family, or significant other treat me badly, I will blame myself. I will feel like everything is my fault. Unless someone gets me a great therapist from a very young age, I will gravitate towards men who blame me for everything. We will have that in common. We will both think everything is my fault, somehow.
You and I may reunite someday, but it won’t be the same. We won’t pick up where we left off as “mother and daughter.” You will give up the right to ever be my mother the minute you hand me over. A real mother doesn’t give her baby to strangers. A real mother will fight tooth and nail to keep her. We may reconnect and have some sort of relationship, but I will always resent you.
You will have your own problems as a result of abandoning me, as well. You will feel guilt like you’ve never known. A part of you will always be missing. You will wonder every day what happened to me and if my new family is good to me. You will ALWAYS wonder if you did the right thing.
So, if you are willing to let all these things happen, go ahead. Let me go. But know this. You aren’t “giving me a better life.” That statement is made by people that don’t know any better.