Check out my link in the previous post and these lyrics will make more sense.From God's Arms, To My Arms, To Yours
So many wrong decisions in my past, I'm not quite sure
If I can ever hope to trust my judgment anymore.
But lately I've been thinking,
Cause it's all I've had to do.
And in my heart I feel that I
Should give this child to you.
And maybe, you could tell your baby,
When you love him so, that he's been loved before, By someone, who delivered your son,
From God's arms, to my arms, to yours.
If you choose to tell him,
If he wants to know,
How the one who gave him life
Could bear to let him go.
Just tell him there were sleepless nights,
I prayed and paced the floors,
And knew the only peace I'd find,
Was if this child was yours.
And maybe, you could tell your baby,
When you love him so, that he's been loved before,
By someone, who delivered your son,
From God's arms, to my arms, to yours.
This may not be the answer,
For another girl like me.
But I'm not on a soapbox,
Saying how we all should be.
I'm just trusting in my feelings,
And I'm trusting God above,
And I'm trusting you can give this baby
Both his mothers' love.
And maybe, you could tell your baby,
When you love him so, that he's been loved before,
By someone, who delivered your son,
From God's arms, to my arms, to yours.
The season of Lent really makes me reflect on my life and its many, many blessings. I am eternally grateful for the selfless decisions of the birthparents of my children. Sometimes I feel like shouting my story from the top of a mountain in the hopes that others can be educated about adoption and really know what it "looks" like!
In addition to the song above, I also found this beautiful song . I hope you will take a listen. I needed tissues! Guess I was due for a good cry tonight. What exactly is a "good" cry anyway? I'm pretty sure I was almost at the ugly cry.
This is turning out to be a long post, but I decided to post an excerpt from the letter to the editor I wrote last mother's day. It was published in 5 local newspapers and one even did a front page cover story. It was exciting to be spreading the Pro-adoption message! I'm hoping maybe someone who reads this blog will also benefit from reading it.
"When my children hold hands and dance across the kitchen, I am grateful. When they call me “Mommy”, I am grateful. When they are having a temper tantrum about watching the television, I am grateful. I am blessed to be the mother to my two children and I try to never take the role of motherhood for granted. I have been given the opportunity to do what I consider to be the greatest job on Earth because the birthparents of my children made the selfless decision to place them for adoption.
Even as things have progressed over the years, there are still often times when the stigma surrounding adoption is evident. I hear comments like “How could anyone give up her child?” and “I could never do that.” Statements such as these used to cause me frustration, but I now see them as opportunities to educate others about the “real” face of adoption. Birthmothers are mothers; they are my children’s first mother and took care of them for the first 9 months of their lives. They felt their first kicks and heard their first cries and I am certain that they think of them daily. They are comforted knowing they are happy, well-adjusted children. The birthmothers of my children will always have a connection with the child that I have been given the opportunity to raise and call my own. I am their mommy, but I must never for one minute, forget their first mother, the one who made the brave decision to give their child an opportunity that they were unable to give. Birthmothers do not “give up” children; they give their children the prospect to have a quality of life they humbly admit they could not provide.
It is because of their unconditional love, that I have the title of “Mommy”. How do I ever truly thank someone for this priceless gift? "
Sorry for standing on my soapbox today. I'm not really sure what triggered it...it could have been when I was cleaning off the desk handmade by Little Miss' birthfather or moving the picture of E and his birthparents...whatever it was, it gave me the urge to "shout" my story and it's hard to shut me up once I get started.