I met my birth mother this weekend. (Here is the first post about it.)
It is difficult to know what to share here. She remains a very private person, and it is not my role to tell her story. Except, of course, that her story is my story.She still does not want to tell her other kids about me, and I understand her wishes. (So, I’m not using her name, and I’m still not going to contact her children. I had included her photo here, but after this post got so much more traffic than usual, I decided to take it down. It’s an imperfect science.)
I visited with her for over 3 hours. She answered all my questions. She received the photos I gave her of me and of her 3 wonderful grandsons. She said I could continue to write to her and call her occasionally.
I now know I will have spectacular silver grey hair in my future.
I have always known that placing a baby for adoption in 1968 was very different than my experience of placing a baby for adoption in 1989. Hearing her talk Saturday, I realized just how very different our experiences were.
I’m grateful to have met her and given her a hug. I was able to thank her for giving me life and for giving me up. I tried to convey gratitude from my parents. One of my boys said to tell her he was thankful she had me so that I could have him.
I don’t know if I’ll see her again, but I’ve seen her, and for that I’m forever grateful. It is enough. Anything else will be pure gift. I am satisfied and at peace.
Thank you to everyone who prayed for me, sent me good thoughts, called, texted, and commented this weekend. Even as this has been a solo journey of discovery, I’m so grateful for your support and love. I never felt like I was on my own.
One of those times when enough is abundance. Peace be with you, today and all the days of your life. Amen.
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Prayers of thanksgiving and continued blessings.
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That’s a lovely picture with your birth mother. Our past is a part of us but only secrets let it control us. Peace to both of you.
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You fill my heart with hope for humanity, Marci. Thank you for sharing this, and for being the wonderful person you are.
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Thanks, friend.
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Jeff, did you participate in the Platoon Leaders Class, USMC in the late 1960’s. Your name reminds me of a member of my platoon at Quantico the summers of 1963 and 1964. Another name of Don Asbill comes to mind as well. If you are the same Mr. Hebert, I am pleased to make contact with you after all these years.
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Faith is trusting that the unknown will turn out to be loving. You are part of that love Marci, and both you and your birth mom are held in it. Blessings and thanks for sharing this special story.
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Thanks. Very grateful.
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❤
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Y’all look alike. I can see your joy, and a hopefulness about her. She may not fully realize it now, but she will come to be so thankful for you.
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Marci, congratulation!
It is very emotional to see you and mother side by side. Lots of meaning and God’s Providence is revealed in this picture. Blessings!
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What a beautiful moment. I’m glad you got to experience this. May peace continue to be with you.
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I feel as though I’ve seen a thousand pictures of you smile. And none like this. So happy for you, Marci. Peace and love.
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Thanks. There is something different about this one.
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Love love love… your honesty and your integrity. May the answers and the questions align and give you peace.
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How wonderful for you both to have had this time together!
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So thankful you got to see her. And, I believe you will see her again…she has loved you from the beginning, now she will want to know you more and more! Such a wonderful beginning for the 2 of you! 😎❤
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This is so…
Wow.
My older sister was adopted. She always wanted to meet her birth mother but has never had any luck. My heart goes out to you, Marci. I wonder about things like “gut feel”—I’d love to hear more of your descriptions, when you can, of the feelings upon first seeing her. I know this is going to sound so crazy, but our sweet Kirby (rescue Lab) met up with his litter mate a few weeks ago and you could just tell they “knew” each other (so different from when he meets another pup for the first time). How does that compare with humans, I wonder.
Hugs to you and prayers for peace and serenity.
Shelly
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Yes, there was something very “natural” or “comfortable” being in her presence, despite the awkwardness that also was present. There was a sense of puzzle pieces coming together.
Had I seen her on the street, I don’t know that we would have recognized each other or anything (which is what I had always wondered about, growing up–had she been on the city bus with me? did I see her at the department store?) but there was, for me at least, some resonance of familiarity in her presence.
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