Birthdays


Today is my son’s birthday.  My only son and my youngest child.  Twelve years ago, at this time, 10am, I was just starting labor and he wouldn’t come for several hours.  My ob/gyn was a doctor who was originally from Ghana.  

This was Joshua’s birthday and the details are things that I know.  Things that I can share with him.

I never knew any of these things and I never will.  I don’t know what time I was born.  I don’t know who my doctor was.  I don’t know how long my mother was in labor.  Things that people take for granted in their life, I don’t know.  

It’s just that way for us adoptees.  Birthdays are so complicated because they bring up so many complex emotions. The day of our birth, which is usually a day of great celebration, is instead a day of mourning and remembering our rejection.

I swore my kids would never feel the same way I felt about their birthday. I always tried to make them feel special in my own way.  

But today I am not with my son for his birthday and there’s nothing that can take the pain that I feel from not being there with him today.  

He’s becoming a young man and he needs his mother to be there with him.  I have made very deliberate parenting decisions based on how I felt as an adoptee. And I need to refocus and remember why I made the sacrafices in the life that I have.

It’s always been for them and it always will be.

I won’t spend another one of their birthdays away from any of them.

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About sjwoods318

Mother of six children - five girls and one boy; wife; community organizer, family chauffeur, philosopher, trans-racial adoptee, Deadhead, person of mixed racial heritage, artist, poet, writer who loves to swim, read, and run around with my family.
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