Mother’s Day 2024

Hello my Blogville friends. Welcome back and thank you for joining me with a cup of tea, today is a Chai Tea for me. I have to warn you, this one is hurting me to write. I’m not sure how it will feel to read it. (Trigger warning: grief and loss.) Mother’s Day has always been a bit hard for me, but now, as the second one without my mom approaches, it feels even harder. Then, I happened upon a Facebook page that was reminding folks that National Birth Mother’s Day in the United States is on the Saturday before Mother’s Day, and has been recognized since 1990. I could only find this day recognized as a National Day in the United States (perhaps other countries note it as well, but I could not find anything). I’ll admit I struggled with the concept of a National day celebrating birth mothers of adoptees.


As I continued scrolling on Facebook I noticed that one of my birth sisters had posted some pictures from what would have been her parents’ wedding anniversary (if her mother was still living). My birth mother and her husband would have been married 64 years this year according to the post. On their anniversary date I will be exactly 65 years, 7 months, and 8 days old. I don’t know why this hit me, but it did, maybe it was related to reading about National Birth Mother’s Day. When my birth mother got married, I had been with my adoptive parents for 10 of my 19 months of life. I was one year, seven months, and eight days old on her wedding day. Her first child, my maternal half sister, was four years, seven months, and sixteen days old on our birth mother’s wedding day. I cannot help but wonder if my half-sister and I were present in her mind on that date? Our birth mother looks content in the posted pictures but I could not help but wonder if any thoughts or memories of us walked down that aisle with her?


The pictures of my birth mother and her new husband made me think about things. It made me happy that it looked like she found peace in her decision to have let us go. I find some peace in the knowledge that letting us go had eventually led to a long and happy marriage with four beautiful daughters born to her and her husband. I know it may sound weird but there is a part of me that is very happy that she had a good life while there is a part of me that wonders about my role in her life. I had a role after all, I was born to her. She chose life for me, even if she did not include herself in my life, or try to plan for a future together. I hope that she imagined a ‘happily every after’ adoption story for me when she thought of me, that is, if she ever thought of me. I wondered if she thought of my half-sister and I when she looked into the face of her first newborn daughter. The first one that she could keep and raise, that is.


Mother’s Day also makes me think about the fact that my birth half-sister and I had our fair share of mothers, or mother figures, while we awaited adoption planning, and even once we were adopted. Though I do not remember them, I know that the ‘mothering’ I received from the nursing staff at the home for unwed mothers was positive as I demonstrated imprinting when I was hospitalized months later. I was cared for by those nurses for many weeks before a worker was free to travel and discharge me from their care. My file reveals less positive caring with my initial foster care placements, but that all changed once I was placed with my final foster parents. As you know, I have written a blog about searching for, and finally meeting that foster mother and how special that meeting was, not only for me, but for her as well. From the bottom of my heart, I wish Lena a Happy Mother’s Day from her “Marie”.


At this point in my thoughts, I would like to offer a little shout out to foster mothers. Taking in and caring for children who have suffered is truly a calling. My professional work with foster parents repeatedly demonstrated a selflessness that is unique to foster mothers. I want foster parents to know that it is not a ‘thankless job’, we are grateful you were/are there for us and on behalf of myself, and all others who needed or still need you I say, “Thank You!” Especially on Mother’s Day.


My paternal half-siblings are very lucky to still have their mother, and they enjoy a positive relationship with her. My birth father did not know about me or my birth until he was no longer in a relationship with their mother so she and I have no real connection. However, I can say that she raised very caring, considerate and successful children who were very accepting of me from the moment they found out I existed. I sincerely wish her a happy Mother’s Day. As well, my maternal half-sisters have a step-mother who has been very welcoming and kind to me whenever I have visited with she and her husband at their home. I wish her a very Happy Mother’s Day. 

​Now, to my own role as a mother. As you may or may not know, I have four adult children who were born to, and raised by, my husband and I. Being a mother to them has been my greatest role in my life. I think back to all the fears and insecurities I had when I became a mother, and now recognize that I did some things right and some things wrong but my motivation was always pure, and in my children’s best interest. One example of a parental learning curve was that I had read that babies will usually say “Dada” first before “Mama”. There are a few theories about why that is, such as that babies don’t identify their mothers as separate from themselves so they say Dada first, while other theories speculate that it is simply because the ‘d’ sound is easier to say than the ‘m’ sound.  As a result, with our firstborn, I preferred it if people referred to my husband as Daddy and to me as Mama. I mean it kind of worked, my oldest daughter did say Mama first but the downside was that it then took forever for her to say Dada. Needless to say, I later dropped that ‘don’t say Dada’ rule so naturally, all the other children said Dada first.


I think I did ok as a mom. I know that many times I wondered if some of my parenting errors, were due to having been adopted. I was unable to consult with my mom about stuff because she would remind me that she never had a newborn. I think she may have even been grateful for that fact on the day I asked her to clip and remove my cesarean surgery stitches for me because they were driving me over the edge. I’m just kidding, my mom would have put up with anything to have given birth to a baby. The fact that she repeatedly reminded me of this did make me a little sad, often feeling like a consolation prize instead of first prize. She did not mean it that way, but it was certainly the underlying message I received. 


So, I could not really consult her on baby, toddler stuff, but I could talk to her about other parenting insecurities that I think all new mothers feel. Luckily, I could talk with my mother-in-law about much of the other baby-care and developmental type stuff. Only my children can really speak for how I did as a mom but, like most children, I think they mostly remember when I said, “No” or when I failed them in some way. I read somewhere that when the negative memories stand out it is because they are an anomaly among so many more positive memories. I’m going to go with that theory because it is in my favour. Plus I have evidence of good parenting in photos and videos.


When I became a grandmother, suddenly I was the mother of a mother! Now that was overwhelming. There is something about your daughter becoming a mother that makes one reflect on their own role in life. When I met my first grandchild (actually they were twin boys so I met my second grandchild only minutes later) I cannot truly express how overwhelmed I was when I thought about my birth mother’s own mother. Though I understood the ‘times’ and the ‘shame’ of my birth mother finding herself pregnant but I could not for the life of me understand how she could turn her back on her grandchild, her own flesh and blood. How could a grandmother behave as if that grandchild was never born? How could she make her daughter behave like that too? When I looked at my two grandchildren in their little hospital cots I felt a great sense of loss on behalf of the babies my birth half-sister and I had been, and how we could not be our birth mother’s children, nor our birth grandmother’s grandchildren. We were nobody’s babies.


As a grandmother, I hope that I modelled good parenting. I also hope that my grandchildren like me and enjoy spending time with me. I am truly grateful that I live in a world where the mothers of ‘unmarried’ mothers can help and support their daughters to become mothers and are no longer forced to support society’s historically dim view of single parenting. So, I wish a Happy Mother’s Day to all mothers, foster mothers, birth mothers, adoptive mothers, kinship mothers, Customary Care mothers, grandmothers, and any other mother roles I may have neglected to mention!


Thank you for stopping by! Remember, I love reading your comments whether you comment here publicly or reach out to me via my email [email protected]. I hope to see you in two weeks in Blogville with your cup of tea in hand.