Sunday, April 20, 2008

Blackbird, Fly.

Posted by Anonymous.

Small Christmas lights, first red, then blue, then green, then white sent small stars of color over the ceiling where she slept. Tiny. Little hands, grasping and flexing tubes that ran into her nose. Warm among blankets that her mother brought for her. Warm among the clothes that her father bought for her. Nurses quiet and reverent in the soft lights, humming wordless songs to small babies in plastic cases.

And me.

Still wearing a scar from her exit from my body, 7 weeks to early and a lifetime too soon, for me; I sat. In the almost black of early morning, in an outside caked in the dirtiest of old snow and sharp winter air, I sat. Alone, with my daughter. For the last time. I sang quietly to her and slid my clean hands inside that incubator, pressing my lips against the side of it, willing her to feel me. One finger tracing the line of her back, one stream of tears tracing the line of my face.

Blackbird singing in the dead of night
take these broken wings and learn to fly

My voice became the only one singing, as the room fell silent around me. Me and my daughter. The daughter I had failed to carry to term. The daughter I was going to permanently place in the arms of another woman, to call mother. My guilt was overwhelming in my failures to her. Failing to grow her healthy, failing to raise her. failing to be her mother.

Her dark hair, gently curling around her face, was mine, her softly curling lips, her father's. I would see none of these things day to day. To see them change as she grew, to hear her beautiful voice lilt words for the first time. To hear her cry, until her needs were met.

To be the one she cried for.

Blackbird fly
Blackbird fly

Knowing full well, that this was beneficial for her. For them. For everyone but me. My daughter sighed under my touch and moved closer. For one shining moment, I was hers and she was mine.

39 comments:

Amanda said...

Oh, you.
You who shall ring within her, a gentle, whispered melody. Forever. Gifts, both of you, though the heartbreak sears.

Aunt Becky said...

*hugs*

This brought tears to my eyes.

Stacy said...

You are a brave brave woman. Your body did a wonderful thing by carrying her and your heart did a great thing by letting her go. I hope that one day she will know what a wonderful mother she has.

Peace to you both.

Anonymous said...

As an adult who was adopted at birth... all I have to say is "thank you". I know this had to be the hardest thing you've ever done, and likely will ever do. I have always wanted to thank my birth mother for making that hardest of decisions for my benefit. If there was one thing I could tell her it would be "thank you" and "You did the right thing". I'm sure that your daughter, like me, will think of you often, and the sacrifice that you've made, and be forever greatful for the love you showed her by doing what you felt was best for her. She will fly, and she will not the "physical" you, but she will always carry the love you have given her in her heart. No matter what, she will always carry a part of you with her, as you will always carry a part of her with you.

Kate said...

My husband was adopted shortly after birth, and lived a decent childhood in a nice home with complicated but well-intentioned parents - he had a good life, and any failures in his up bringing were solely the fault of influences inside the adoptive parents (who were never physically abusive or anything like that), unpredictable and unforeseeable.

And his birth mother always stayed in his heart, a starting point for him, an anchor. They finally made contact, only via email so far, and it has closed a circle for him. Offered a bit of peace.

You will always have a presence in your daughter's life, even if that is via your physical absence. You complete her. She has love.

crazymumma said...

This made me cry.

Jen said...

What a wonderful and heart wrenching thing to do.

Your heart must feel both light that you did the right thing for both of you at the time, yet heavy knowing you will always long for that baby.

My heart goes out to you.

Aliki2006 said...

This made me cry, too, it was so beautiful and such a testimony to this ultimate gift--the one you gave your daughter, and the one you gave her adoptive mother. You didn't fail her--you surpassed all expectations...

Anonymous said...

I don't think you failed. I think you succeeded in all the ways that matter. This is a powerfully sad -- and lovely -- vignette.

Anonymous said...

As a woman who is hoping to adopt another woman's child, all I can say is:

Thank you. You gave someone the greatest gift possible.

Heather said...

You did not fail. You did a wonderful, if incredibly difficult thing. You did NOT fail.

Amie Adams said...

As an adoptee, it makes my heart swell to know that it's possible that two women loved me that much. Quite often it's easy to doubt it.

Thank you for sharing this with me--with us.

Anonymous said...

You made me cry.

Beck said...

Beautiful, beautiful post.
I think that was such an act of total love for your child, ensuring to the very best of your ability that she would have a wonderful childhood and a happy life.

thailandchani said...

Very, very nice... love the song.. and I'm sure you know you did the right thing. That doesn't make it any less painful but it also doesn't make it any less the right thing.

Kyla said...

You did good, Mama. You did good.

There is no failure here. None.

Christine said...

this must hurt in ways that i will never truly get. but i hope you take comfort in knowing that somewhere she is loved, that she is happy.

xoxo

CamiKaos said...

that song has always brought tears to my eyes... even more so now.

mamatulip said...

You didn't fail. You gave someone else hope, love, promise.

A life.

Anonymous said...

You were her hero. And you are often mine.

Chanda (aka Bea) said...

I cannot even begin to imagine the heartbreak and hope you must have felt(still feel) for your daughter and yourself. The generosity of your heart and the kindess of your spirit amaze and humble me. I just love you.

Jocelyn said...

I do not use the word "hero" lightly.

But when I consider parents, mothers, who consciously consider their readiness for parenthood and realize they would do the child an injustice were they to keep him/her, I see heroes. Sacrifice for a greater good is not something modern culture knows how to value.

I see immense value in your sacrifice. A hero should not live with guilt. You transformed lives positively with your decision.

You are a hero.

Anonymous said...

Oh, sweetie. I know. And it was no failure on your part - she is a healthy amazing little girl thanks to you. You will always hold a place in her heart and she in yours. I know you think of this all the time and that you struggle, but you did the right thing. You did not fail her, yourself or him. You are amazing.

You know, I remember when you first told me about her, and I remember thinking how strong you were to give her to someone else, and how hard it was going to be on your tender heart. I remember. She knows. Your reasons were sound and true; you gave her the life you wanted her to have; your choice was right. But you know that. :)

I only hope my birth mother felt half as much for me when I was adopted.

Don Mills Diva said...

This was a beautiful post by a brave and selfless woman...thank you.

Anonymous said...

The recent onslaught of "hero" is unraveling my grey matter. I don't know what to make of any of it.

I do, however, know what to make of you. Or, better, what you are made of and it is this: love.

I don't care what you say about your perceived shortcomings and long goings, you are a deeply compassionate and sensitive soul whose main concern "should" be how to get that nasty grit off your internal lens.

This blew me away. I sure hope it gave you another layer of healing and release:

As an adoptee, it makes my heart swell to know that it's possible that two women loved me that much.

If that isn't one of *the* most beautiful and heart-wrenching things I've ever tried on, I don't know what is.

Just gorgeous.
Like you.

Perhaps one day the two of you will find each other...as you recently did with another friend. It is never too late for anything as long as you're breathing.

I send peace of mind dand heart.

Bon said...

as i was reading this, and the tears were spilling down my face, the lines "the holy and the broken hallelujah" began playing through the soundtrack of my mind. i don't know if you're a Cohen fan, but somehow they encapsulate for me a bit of what you've laid so beautifully here...the bittersweet of loss and love and sacrifice, all wrapped up.

how you love her comes through in every line.

we_be_toys said...

Oh my - I feel like you took me with you into that time, that piece of your life. That had to be incredibly difficult, on so many levels. I'm glad you had the chance to see her and leave a little imprint. Someday, I feel sure, you will use your mothering gifts again - I believe the power of your love will see to that.

Anonymous said...

Thank you for sharing this. No one can really understand another person's pain, but your words help us to have some grasp of the complex love that defines adoption.

Girlplustwo said...

oh babe. i don't know and yet i know. your grace.

your grace.

JCK said...

Exquisite. Exquisite in its pain. In its honesty. I can only imagine the pain and know the selflessness involved. You have given the greatest gift ever. None equal.

I am an adoptive mother, so I have been on the other side of this story. I have a relationship with my son's birthmother - not intimate anymore, like it was up until and through the first year of his life - but, we will always have a bond. And she is his birthmother forever. We talk about her frequently and she is present in our lives.

Thank you for sharing this.

Anonymous said...

This is good people look like. This is what good people do.

Someday you will reconnect, if that's what's right, like my mom and my sister did. Until that day you need to do the hugging for both of you. Love yourself, not despite of, but especially BECAUSE of what you did here.

Miss Britt said...

God that is amazing. And heart wrenching. I want to wrap my arms around you and tell you everything will be OK.

Anonymous said...

Your writing is barbed with pain and real and beauty. Thanks to you for sharing.

Cathy, Amy and Kristina said...

You didn't fail. You gave. To her. To them.

Fairly Odd Mother said...

This captured so much. Beautiful and heartbreaking. You gave someone a great gift. I hope you find peace in that.

Janet said...

Oof. My heart.

My best friend is adopted and is part of an extremely close and warmly loving family. Her birth mother gave her a wonderful life, in more ways than one.

xo
J.

Anonymous said...

I sat here reading this with tears rolling down my face. Oh my goodness...I don't know where to begin.

That was so magnificent. I wish you could have that moment forever. Where you were hers and she was yours.

I am way too hormonal to find the right words for you. To say something that would be as poetic and profound as what you have written here.

Bless you and that beautiful baby you GAVE so sweetly to a mother who wanted her so dearly...

MamaMichelsBabies said...

My heart shattered to read how you think you've failed her... you didnt in so many ways.

Peace be with you.

Louisa Claire said...

my heart aches for you but you did not fail. i am left speechless by your strength and so thankful that you made this decision. you gave life. may your know God's blessing on your own.