You ever wonder what a child knows or what they are thinking about? Not children you have raised, we eventually can read them fairly well and know what they are thinking just by looking at their expressions or hearing the sound of their voices. I mean other children that are in your life on a part-time basis.
I have acquired many titles in 52 years. Mom, Nawnie, Sister, Daughter, Aunt, and Cousin. In a lot of ways my titles define who I am. Not long ago I was addressed by a title that was, let’s say a little less than normal. It was made by someone I knew didn’t understand the impact it made hearing it. My birth son David.
I placed David almost 11 years ago and we celebrate an open adoption. My initial choice was to have it closed, but David’s parents talked me into an open adoption.
On our most recent visit we decided to meet at the park, since the day was nice and sunny. We played together, talked about his favorite YouTube personalities and characters as well as went for a walk. We arrived back at our parked cars and his adoptive mom, Vivian, pulled an ice chest full of water balloons from the trunk of their car so we could cool off a bit before leaving. We each took a handful and went to our prospective corners to begin flinging rubber made sacks full of water at each other. About 10 balloons in, Vivian noticed that David was just tossing balloons at her and Harry, his adoptive father and he was avoiding tossing them at me. She said “Hey, why aren’t you throwing them at Ms. Jen?” He stops, looks over at me and says (here it comes) “What! I can’t hit my birth mother with a water balloon!”
Now, when I have visits with David it’s about him and his happiness alone. I don’t allow him to see any sadness, distress, or discontent on my face. Or at least I try hard not to. But when I heard my new title come out of his sweet little face, I knew my expression changed for just a moment. My neurons immediately started firing and for about 5 seconds (which seemed like 5 minutes) I froze in my boots.
What did he just call me? What does he know? Has he read my story? Does he know I placed him to give him his best chance? Does he know I love him and would love to see him every day? Those are just a few of the half a million questions that went through my frontal lobe within those five seconds. It was almost like the first wave of a storm that would blow through you like you weren’t even standing there. I hastily put my face back in check, I put my thoughts in check, smiled, then picked up a water balloon and flung it right at him.
Once the final balloon was tossed, we picked up the balloon pieces (pieces of my heart in a way) and decided to call it a day and say goodbye. So, I watched them journey off down the road, got in my car and instantly my mind and heart started racing. I just needed to get home. I needed a quiet place to break down and process every word, hug, action, and feeling that had just transpired over the last two hours.
I can grasp the fact that I will have to wear that title for the rest of my life, it’s on my index of names just like all the rest. But what I can’t grasp in my head is the catalog of questions I want to ask him and can’t yet. I know there will come a day when he opens up and shares his reflections and his understanding of who and what I am to him. But for now, I can at least be content that he knows that title and will in due course know our tale.
This post was written by Jennifer, a birth mom who placed her son through Adoption Advocates. Names have been changed to protect the privacy of all involved.
