“He is mine in a way that he will never be hers, yet he is hers in a way that he will never be mine, and so together, we are motherhood.” –Desha Wood
During her second trimester she sent me emails letting me know about the Spaghettios he was making her crave. She told me about the conversations she had with him while her hands rested on her belly at night. She told him all about the family that would be adopting him and the mama that would love him. She gave us a jar of hundreds of pink and blue candies and made us count every single one to find out if it was a boy or a girl. When we counted a few extra blue ones we were handed a card from her that said “congratulations you are having a boy!” She invited me to ultrasounds and put my hand on her belly to make sure I felt him kick. She gave me the closest possible experience to pregnancy that a person can experience without having a baby grow inside you.
She endured her greatest loss in order to deliver me my greatest joy. She gave him life and loved him first and even though the stretch marks from his pregnancy might not be found on my skin, she made sure they were etched all across my heart before he was ever born.
It’s been six years since she laid him in my arms and our open adoption has evolved into a relationship more beautiful than I ever could’ve imagined it to be. He asks when he can play with her next and runs to give her a big hug every time he sees her. He holds her hand–the same one that he once wrapped his tiny fingers around on the day he was born. They play tag together and she gets down on the floor to build Legos with him. He makes himself at home on her lap when she reads him a book. She watched him go trick-or-treating in his very first Batman costume. We get together with her family to exchange Christmas and birthday presents and it’s amazing to see a little bit of him in each of their faces. She makes him laugh so hard that his smile reaches his eyes; they are the same blue as hers. They share the same strawberry curls and freckles dot his cheeks where her tears once fell.
Watching them together feels a little like being the only one awake to watch the sun rise. It’s one of those rare, deeply awing moments that etches itself deep in your soul and makes your heart settle contently in your chest. One of those moments where I give up words for a while because none of them are big enough to express my deepest, fiercest, gratitude and admiration for her. Somewhere along the path of our ever evolving relationship we became motherhood for this beautiful boy. She gave him life and I am teaching him how to live it. She is connecting him to a past I cannot give and I am giving him a future she could not provide.
I will spend the rest of my life looking into those blue eyes that hold no gene of mine and be reminded of the love and bravery and heartbreak it took for her to let him go. It is my one great honor to be able to give her back these moments of his life after what she has given me for the rest of mine.
She chose the bravest, strongest love there is and the privilege it is to have this little soul call me his mom because of her sacrifice is never lost on me. I feel so very lucky to get to be the one who tells both of my boys how much they were loved before I ever came along.
Follow Kortni on Instagram @born.from.my.heart