I made a discovery last night, its a discovery most adoptive parents make at some point or another, its the realisation that birth mum really hasn’t got a clue!
I’m sure I’ve mentioned before that we have a letter box agreement, we write to various members of birth family throughout the year. I always try to keep the letters vague yet positive and respectful of the reader’s feelings. I’ve included photo’s and even some of the girls artwork. I’ve always felt such pity for birth mom, a sadness for her loss and sorrow for the mess that her life has always been.
So you can imagine my reaction to discovering photo’s of MY children on her facebook account. With comments about how much ‘mommy’ loves them, referencing to them as ‘my girls’, and even accounts set up in the girls names with yet more photo’s. I felt physically sick at first. Sick to the pit of my stomach. The sickness soon turned in to anger. How dare she refer to herself as ‘mommy’. How dare she! This is the woman that neglected MY girls, abused MY girls, traumatised MY girls and put her own wants before even the basic needs of MY girls. MY girls were taken from her care for their own safety, they were not lovingly given up!
It ME that’s helping them to heal, its ME that’s soothing them in the night after nightmares, its ME that’s putting them first, its ME that’s showing them the world is a good place and they are safe, its ME that’s showing them they are good and worthy, its ME that lays awake night after night with worry, its ME that dries their tears whilst holding back my own, its ME that’s showing them they need never worry about hunger again, its ME that’s showing them how to take care of the things around them, its ME that’s fighting for them, its ME that’s showing them real love, real happiness, real respect.
I AM THEIR MUMMY!
She is their ABUSER!
I will struggle to write my next letter I will find it hard to be so positive and respectful. Perhaps she’d like to know about the nightmares, the fear, the struggles, the therapy and the lasting and devastating effects of the trauma that SHE has caused.
But I am better than that, I will bite my tongue, I will respect MY girls and continue to write to her in a respectful manner. Because MY girls needs always come first. Those lines of communication need to remain open for now, it cannot and should not be my choice to change things, its a choice for MY girls as they get older. MY girls are finding their own voices, they’ll let me know their wishes in time and I will respect them whatever they are, because I AM THEIR MUMMY!