Letters to Outer Space

I wrote birthmama, S, another letter yesterday and I must admit it is getting harder and harder. This is the fourth letter I've written since A's birth. I like to think that she can't wait to get the package in the mail, read the letter, look at the pictures, marvel at how happy we all look.....and be confident over and over again in her decision. Sigh. For all I know she may have never opened a single one. Maybe it's too hard. I would understand that.

We have one way communication. I know nothing more than that she and her daughter have an apartment, in a certain city, and she found a good job. Grateful to know even that much, I try to remind myself that I knew it would be this way. We send letters and pictures to update and reassure her that he's doing well. There is no obligation on the other end. Today I am longing to know more. To know her. For him. I am afraid we will lose touch. That the agency will eventually tell us that the packages keep coming back and that she has not called to update her address. I know several families in that situation and the agency pretty much told us to expect it. In time, they say, that's just what happens.

Ok, so I'm going to admit something that you might judge me for. I watch the show, "Teen Mom." One couple that is featured placed their baby for adoption at birth. On this week's episode, they had their first meeting with their daughter and her parents. It hurt my heart to watch, even though it was a very positive thing for them all. There was redemption evident, but the cost is so high.

And of course it makes me think about us. I don't have much faith that A will meet S. It saddens me. And then it relieves me. And then it breaks my heart. For some reason that God only knows, we have been called to not only be A's parents, but to try to minister to the heart of his birthmama. With each letter we try to remind her of God's great big love for her and her daughter mixed with details like how A is a super-drooler and has a smile as big as his face :). I feel guilty sometimes. Sometimes I feel like the replacement. That she should have been his mother.

We will keep sending letters and pictures every month for another couple of months, then every three months indefinitely. I would love to hear back from her....but I'm not counting it.