Tomorrow will be my fourth Mother's Day. I'll be celebrated all day long by my two precious children and their daddy, and I am surely going to enjoy an afternoon and evening spent with this crew of mine. Just last year I dreamed of two kiddos calling me "Mommy," and now it's my reality. A dream prayed into existence.
Because of her.
It's almost been a year since we met at that Olive Garden for the very first time, nervously laughing together and learning about each other. Since that day, we have walked through a difficult pregnancy, a trying labor and delivery, and all the days since with her. And in the course of this year, we've become family.
It was instant, honestly. I can't adequately describe it and it doesn't make sense to most people, but it was like we had known each other forever. Like we'd been etched into each other's DNA from the very beginning of our lives. Like we were predestined to meet each other in our own brokenness and discover God's healing alongside of each other. There was peace that I can't explain that day, and it still lingers today.
She welcomed us into her world, encouraged and assured us when she didn't have to, and loved us with her whole heart. We took a photo together every time we saw each other, at all the many doctor appointments and on days when the two of us would just have girl time to get to know each other better, because I knew this season was fleeting. She always said "yes" to my crazy picture ideas, and I didn't waste an opportunity -- I wanted her to have them more than I wanted them for myself.
Then came the day when we packed our bags and headed to the hospital. After two days of gruesome labor, the day finally came for her daughter to be born.
Our daughter.
And she endured the pain, the sorrow, the beauty with such grace. So much grace. I can't tell you how much.
I was holding her hand, gripping it with all my might, when Bethany was born, and it took everything inside of me to let go of it for even a second while I walked over to see our beautiful baby for the first time. Tears were flowing from my eyes in steady streams as my eyes went back and forth between this brave mother and our warrior daughter. Before that moment, the moment when Bethany breathed her first breath, my heart had never known such incredible joy and overwhelming heartache at the same time.
Bethany was born on a Friday and papers were signed on the following Monday. From a legal standpoint, everything had changed from then on. But from a family standpoint, nothing had.
Bethany still had two mamas, and she always would.
I call that a double portion from our merciful Father.
Since our stay in the hospital, we have seen Bethany's birth mom about a dozen times, she and I typically text back and forth every few days during the week, we FaceTime every few weeks, and our relationship can be best described this way: natural.
We love each other, we love our daughter, and we love Jesus -- and that's where the supernatural peace flows from. From our good, good Father who created adoption for His glory and our benefit.
Our adoption story has been shared with thousands of people, and we've received so much support and encouragement. There have been several people who just can't fathom how our relationship could be so natural, although it is, and I've personally heard well-meaning loved ones say things like "I could never share my baby with someone," "It would be hard for me not to be the only Mom," and "It's just so sad." My response is simple but profound:
Without this selfless mother, I would not have a daughter.
It's an honor to share the title of "mother" with the one who gave my daughter life.
Although there is much sorrow, there is an abundance of joy.
And today, on Birth Mother's Day, we are celebrating and praising God for the wonderful, awe-inspiring gift we've been given in Bethany's first mama. Because of open adoption, Bethany will always receive a multitude of love from two families who were knit together as one. Because of open adoption, we all have been changed forever.
When I look at Bethany in the arms of her First Mama, all I feel inside is love and gratitude. No jealousy or pity, and certainly no thoughts of "but I'm her mom." I want them to learn each other and have a special bond; after all, they're the only ones who know each other inside and out. I'm proud to be a mama whose heart and family grew by the gift of adoption. Although it happened much sooner than we thought it would, God saw fit to give us more in our dependency on Him than we ever could have on our own.
Our stories were similar when we first met: we were both walking down a path that was unexpected and frightening. Now are stories are similar for a much different reason: we have looked hope in the eye and surrendered our lives to it.
For us, adoption wasn't Plan B. Rather, it was the best thing that could have ever happened to us.
And she, our daughter's more-precious-than-gold birth mom, will always be loved, cherished, and celebrated by us. Every day. Until the end of time.
That's only a fraction of what we believe she's worthy of.
