Mothers Day/Dear Sister (2)

Dear Sister,
There isn't a day that goes by I don't think of you. I continue to meet you daily on my yoga mat, and you whisper inspiration in my ear as I send wishes for peace, wellness, and hope to you. The word Enat (mother) constantly rides my breath. As strange as it sounds, I feel a deep connection to you.

My husband and I started this process eight months ago, and had no idea how long it would take just to get our paperwork complete...but we hit a milestone this week. We're officially waiting to be matched for adoption with our son, your son. I really thought I would celebrate the moment we were given a number, and in reality we did celebrate and share our news with friends, but all I can really think of now is you. I still think about where you might be in your pregnancy, if our son is born, if he is safe, if you are safe, if you are able to provide food and shelter for yourself and for our son. I wonder if you are able to take care of yourself if you are sick, or find strength if you are abused. Sometimes I wonder if I am already connecting with your spirit if you have left your body...

I sit here after spending Mother's Day today with my family and celebrating my daughter's 1st birthday earlier this week. My heart is brimming over with love and gratitude. My daughter has tapped into a space in my heart I never knew existed...a place only children can touch. I constantly think of you and the events that will take place, or have already taken place that will bring you to the event or decision to give up your son. I know that you aren't taking your decision lightly, no mother could. I know mothers would give up their lives for their children, and perhaps you already have...

I want so badly to get the call we've been matched with our son. I want to see his face, I want to meet him, hold him, and bring him into our home and wrap him with love and shower him with sweet kisses...but I am aware as we sit at #23 on the list, 23 babies (including our son) must loose their birth moms, and families, and culture, and you must endure emotional and perhaps physical pain that I cannot begin to fathom. This knowledge brings sobriety to the waiting excitement and anxiety.

I want you to know I don't take any of this lightly. I want you to know my family thinks of you, we talk about you, we worry about you. It isn't impossible that by this time next year we could have our son (yours and mine) in our home in Charleston. I know that our home will always be second best to you, his birth mother, and I will do my best to honor you everyday as I raise our son. Your presence is most welcome in our hearts and home. Though half a world away, you are already a part of our lives and we welcome you.

The light in me bows to the light in you.
Namaste.
Allison