This blog has grown to be almost a digital diary of thoughts and heartfelt retellings of so many important events and revelations in our lives. It feels almost like I’m writing to family when I sit to pen the next chapter. Adoption is beautiful. We celebrate it every single day, but sometimes we hold hands and face the challenges presented to us on this path, too. This is one of those times. A couple of things have happened over the last week or so that have made us do some thinking and talking about adoption, all aspects of it. I wrote a letter to Dani’s birthmother. It hasn’t been my first and won’t be my last. Who knows? Maybe someday I will actually have a way to get them to her. For now they are just therapy. Since I don’t really know an address to send it to and it’s more just for my personal diary I decided to share it with those of you who follow our story. Here it is:
Dear Beautiful,
Wow. Our girl sure has done some growing up lately. She talks as if she were an adult. You’d be so impressed with how smart she is. She reads so well, but believe it or not her favorite subject is now math. Librarian mom fail, right? I know you’d be so crazy proud of her. She is still as kind as ever, and still so beautiful. You should have seen her this weekend in the beauty pageant. She gracefully moved across the stage in a black velvet dress with just a touch of sparkle. She still looks just like you, I guess more so now than ever. Her eyes, your eyes, are pools of Caribbean blue that still take my breath away. There was a good bit of talk about her beauty this weekend and so many people complimenting her for winning a beauty in the pageant. We can’t take any credit for that, I mean the outside is all from you. You know the best thing? She favors my niece, Macy, and my mother so very much. I always think it’s amazing how God wove this story so perfectly that while she is the spitting image of your beautiful self, she also resembles some of the other ladies I love most. I have an incredible soft spot for pretty blondes. What we think is most beautiful about her is her heart. Man, does she love people. She loves them hard and recklessly. She loves without reserve and with limitless forgiveness. You’d be so proud, I really think you would.
Can I be honest with you??? I mean, if anyone can understand this I guess it would have to be you.
I’m hurt. I’m really hurt. A couple of times lately (well three to be exact) another child has questioned her and told her I wasn’t her real momma. The first time the child simply asked her, “Who is your real momma?” To which she responded, “Mrs. Martin!” and be-bopped off. Then several months later, it was more aggressive. “You do know Mrs. Martin isn’t your real momma? She adopted you. So, do you know your real momma?” This upset her a little more. Not at the child, children don’t know. They are inquisitive by nature. Especially so when they have overhead bits and pieces of adult conversations. But this last one, man it hurt. The child argued with her. Can you believe that? Argued with her that she didn’t even know who her “real”momma was. She cried. Not in front of them. At home, where she felt safe. She came to me and those big blue eyes y’all share were full of tears.
“Momma, it happened again. You know, remember when ——- asked me about you? Well, this time they said I was wrong. They said I didn’t even know my real momma. You are my real momma and I told them! I even stomped my foot down, and then I used a loud voice and said, ‘Mrs. Ashlee Martin is my real momma!”
I hugged her and we talked. It broke my heart that she was having to defend me. To defend us. Our family dynamic and essentially her identity. I knew these times would come, or at least I feared they would. But at just 7? It seems soon. I explained that some people just don’t understand the difference in the words “real” and “biological” and then we discussed those. I reminded her that she does know her real momma. She knows the way my voice sounds when I am upset. She knows when I am quiet and picks up on when I’m worried. She knows my favorite color, food, and song. She sneaks me home bath balls from our store because she knows I’d never treat myself. She adds them to my bath and then tries to pay me for them later. She KNOWS me. That makes our relationship so real. When others question that, it hurts. It hurts me for her. It’s hurts me for me. It hurts me for you. Because then we are forced to discuss biological, real, authentic, and DNA. It puts labels where they don’t have to be. I realized tonight that you are just as real as I am. What do I mean by that? Well, the love. The real love. You gave her to me. You entrusted that tiny, fragile creature to my care. You loved her enough to let her go. I will never forget seeing tears well in your eyes when you told me she was born for me. When you told me you knew this is what you had to do. Those were the same tears I saw rolling down our daughter’s cheeks when she told me what upset her the other day. What’s so “real” to me is that when we first sat at that courtyard table you told me you had cried all your tears already. You told me you wanted this to be the happiest day of our lives. That was so kind and caring. That was putting others before yourself, and I see that trait in Dani, too. I feel so torn about all these labels now because I’m confused! I have always given you the credit for her beauty, but your selfless love left a mark on her heart, too. IS it nature over nurture? Nurture over nature? Looks from you? But she looks like my family, too. Does she have my heart? Or yours? When she is good is it from you? Or is it from what she has learned? I don’t know! I don’t know, what is what or who gave her what? I want to explain it to her so simply, but it’s not. She has questions I don’t know the answers to. Why do we have to label this love?? She is so many parts you and so many parts me. I tell her real is the momma who loves her, but that is both of us, too. Sometimes loving someone so much you let someone else love them is the purest love of all.
So you know what I did? I prayed for peace and understanding. God tells us in His word that He will give us a peace that surpasses all understanding. I told you in the hospital, I would pray every single day for the three of us to one day be sisters in Christ. Dani Marie was recently saved. She asked Jesus to be Lord of her life. That means the two of us will be in Heaven one day. We are still praying for you. I don’t know where you are or what shape your heart is in. I don’t know if you know Jesus or have a “real” relationship with Him. I still pray every single day you do or you will. Because that love is what finally made it all make sense. After I poured my heart and confusion out to God, He gave me that peace. See human understanding is weak. People think we have to label everything and everyone. We don’t. Isn’t that refreshing???? We don’t have to! I can be her real momma and so can you! We both authentically love her! We just show it in different ways. Two mothers, so different, but so much the same. Her real momma is me, but her real mother is you, too. She and I share a smile that has come from loving to laugh, and you two share eyes... beautiful blue eyes that can pierce straight to the soul. It’s both of us! All of it. I have been as guilty and anyone of feeling like this love had to be labeled. That I was in one box and you in the other. No more, it’s both of us. It’s all real love, and she is the best parts of both of us and amazing parts that are all her own.
But, there is one thing. The chance to be a real momma? Well, you gave me that. You shared with me. You gifted me the most wonderful opportunity of my life. I owe so much to you, and most likely it’s a debt I will never be able to repay. Thank you, beautiful lady. Ashlee Martin is that sweet girl’s real momma, but only because you allowed me to be. We love you. I hope God whispers this thank you straight to your heart.
I love you more than you will ever understand,
That’s it. It won’t get mailed, just filed away. I wanted to share with y’all. Maybe you have some labels to shake yourself. Maybe you have boxed yourself in and labeled a relationship in your life. I don’t know. I’m so thankful this week for God’s faithfulness at revealing His peace to me. I was so worked up, angry, hurt, and insecure this weekend because of a label. Not realizing, I was as guilty of labeling as anyone. Stepped on my own toes and realized any love modeled after Christ’s love is REAL. There is enough real love to go around. :)
Love y’all!
