As I celebrate my daughter’s birthday, I look back to the day she was born. Some may think it is strange to say I was not there when she entered the world, especially from the perspective of a mother.
For some who aren’t familiar with the world of adoption, it is not something you tend to think about. The thought of not being there for her birth actually doesn’t faze me, because I know her birth mother was. She birthed my daughter physically and emotionally; for that, I am eternally grateful. This woman also birthed me into a mother on this precious birth date. So, on my daughter’s birthday, I not only celebrate her and her life, I also celebrate the woman who gave my daughter her birthday.
I celebrate a woman who will be forever tied to our hearts. A woman who I know sits in the middle of celebrating this little girl and holds a cup full of loss.
A woman who is vital to the birthday greetings because of who she is. From mother to mother, I see my daughter’s birth mother on the days of celebration, days of grief, and days where it all feels mixed up in a ball.
