Brae’s birthmom is moving. Several states away. Now, she lives just hours away; soon she and her daughter will live several hundred miles away.
I’m sad. For my boy.
I adore Brae’s birthmom. And not just because of the gift she gave us, but because of the person that she is. Even apart from the circumstances that have forever welded us together, she is someone I would befriend.
And she’s always longed to better herself and her lot in life.
I remember after she delivered Brae, sitting in the hospital room with her, alone, on Halloween night. Brae was sleeping in the crib. I was lying on the (very uncomfortable) pull out hospital sofa. Rachael was in the hospital bed where just hours before she had given birth to our son.
It was quiet. It was dark. Every so often we would hear the squeak squeak squeak of the rubber shoes of nursing staff passing by our room.
And in the middle of this silence and darkness, Rachael voiced her hopes. Her dreams. She wanted to return to school. She wanted to be a nurse. She knew she could not achieve those things with another child in her home, when she did not have a partner to support her.
That was nearly 4 years ago. Her time has come. She is moving out of state to chase those hopes and dreams.
I’m so exceedingly happy for her and proud of her. And yet, my heart is breaking. For my son.
The relationship we have with Brae’s birthmom is unique. It is probably one that many adoptive families long to have. Brae’s birthmom has never been intrusive. I have never once felt threatened by her. She has always been extremely respectful of the fact that she chose us to be Brae’s parents. She has never tried to interfere or insert herself into our lives.
So many adoptive families would want that. And yet, I yearn for her to be more of a part of Brae’s life. For Brae’s sake. I know with her moving away, it will only become more difficult to engage with her and have our yearly visits.
We were set to have our next visit at the end of September. With this news, we have bumped it up to the beginning of September. I’m so excited to see her again, and to hug her. I want to tell her how so very proud of her I am that she is finally able to realize her hopes and dreams of becoming a nurse. I want Brae to see his half-sister, and watch them run around and play. I want Brae to remember these precious times with each of them and know how very loved he is by so many people.
So that if our visits with them become less frequent over the years, he will never ever feel that he was abandoned or foresaken.
He was not.
He is not.