Yesterday I realized that in order for me to be a mother, it means my son’s birth mother has been erased on his birth certificate. With the change to his birth certificate and the fact that the original one is basically forever sealed, in the eyes of the government, our son’s birth mother no longer exists as his mother.
I find this very unsettling. Yet, I realize I have no authority to change the policies of the State Little MPB was born in at this point in time.
It is what it is, so we must move on.
.
Yet, I feel the need to state, that just because the government has erased her, we have not. Nor will we.
In no-way shape of form will she ever be erased from our son’s life. She will always be the one who cared for him during the first 9 months of his life. She will always be the one who gave birth to him. She will always be the one who chose to place him with us and entrust us to raise him. She will always be the one who placed him in my arms moments after he was born. She will always be his birth-mom, and as such she will always be a part of our family.
Honestly, our son will always know about her. And, as he grows up, we will always encourage a healthy dialogue and a healthy relationship between the two of them.
For us, this is just a fact of life.
And so, while the government may have erased her, we will never forget her as part of our family.
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My son’s amended birth certificate arrived. Instantly, I noted that his name is correct. His name is beautiful and simply perfect.
And as I scanned the document I noticed that there was my name next to mother’s name (and my husband’s name next to father’s name), without the title adoptive written next to it. Just Mother and Father. Plain and simple without an extra word or an asterisk to delineate adoption.
I didn’t expect it, but the moment I read our names I was over come with emotion.
I have always maintained I find the amended birth certificate weird, as I did not give birth to my son. He is not a product of my husbands and/or my genetics. He did not grow in my uterus. I did not go through labour to bring him into this world. And so, in my mind amending a birth certificate to reflect a different reality then was his actual birth seems weird.
And yet, much to my surprise, I was brought to my knees with tears running down my cheeks.
You see, unlike most (i.e. almost all mothers) the only reason my name is on this piece of paper is becomes someone else choose me. Someone else made me a mother. Someone else made my dreams come true. This someone was not a sister or a cousin or even a second cousin twice removed or a best friend or even an old friend from high school. The someone who made my dreams a reality is someone who simply chose me, a perfect stranger, to raise her child. She voluntarily chose this life for her child, and therefore for her and for me too.
And more then all of that, this document signifies that someone else gave up their right to the official status of mother in order for me to have that title. In order for my name to be “mother” means her name was erased and removed from our son’s birth record.
Think about that.
Just take a moment and think about how amazing it is that I am a mother only because someone else is not.
I would not be a mother to my amazing little boy if it weren’t for a perfect stranger choosing and trusting me while having her name literally erased.
Wow. Just wow.
There really are no words to truly explain this.
In so many ways it’s a cruel twist of fait that comes along with adoption.
Honestly, the fact that I am a mother on this document means someone else is not, is something that I can never over look, not even for a second.
Ultimately my son, he deserves the best in life. His birth mother already made that decision for him, and by doing so placed that expectation on me (and my husband). So, now, it is my responsibility to live up to that expectation. It is also my honour to live up to that expectation.
Most days I focus on how adoption has been life changing, soul elevating beautiful for my family, because for better or worse that is our perspective as parents to our amazing little boy. And yet today I must acknowledge the reality of what it took for me to become a mother and how we are all intimately linked to just how devastatingly tragic it is for another mother.
This, my friends, is adoption.
It’s ugly. It’s cruel. It’s messy. It’s unfair.
And yet, it’s love. It’s compassion. It’s family.
I firmly believe adoption can be amazingly beautiful when everyone puts love first.
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