A Mother`s Loss On Mother`s Day

Honoring my daughter`s birthmother - By Karen Alexander (Kansas)

As Mother’s Day approached, I consider all that has changed in these seven years since I became mom to two beautiful daughters. I recall—with some emotional trepidation—how difficult our struggle to become parents was—through years of coping with infertility, undergoing the premature birth of our oldest daughter and compiling an unwieldy stack of documents to fulfill the adoption of our youngest through Children's Hope. But my thoughts also turn to another mother who has invariably helped to create my family—my youngest daughter’s birthmother.

We adopted our daughter, Ella Li Xia, from China when she was 10-months-old in December, 2002. She was placed at the gate of the Hepu Social Welfare Institute in the Guangxi Autonomous Region when she was three days old. Like with most children adopted from China, only meager information is available about her beginning.

On Mother’s Day, I enjoy the extra attention like most mothers. But I recognize that Ella’s birthmother’s personal sacrifice has become our unbelievable joy. On Mother’s Day we light a candle in her honor and, as when we adopted our daughter, we implicitly vow that we will always love and cherish Ella and provide her with the best possible future that we can give her. We will keep her connected with her cultural heritage and help her incorporate her Chinese roots into her very American life.

Last year we began a tradition of planting a lily in our garden in Ella’s birthmother’s honor. This is something Ella can participate in (very happily because she loves to dig in the dirt) and a tradition we hope to continue every year. After years of planting, this part of the garden should be overflowing with blooms.

I must admit that most of the year I do not think of Ella’s birthparents. The hectic pace of everyday life gets in the way of wondering too much about how Ella came to be in our family. But in those occasional moments of introspection, I find myself wondering what this early loss will mean for my daughter and what this loss must be like for her birthmother.

What I find difficult accepting is that I cannot simply let her birthmother know that her birth daughter is happy, healthy and deeply loved. Like most 3-year-olds in the throes of Toddler Dom, Ella is a wonder, exasperating us one moment and delighting us the next.

Of course, my heart aches most for my daughter, for I know there will be a time when she will grapple emotionally with this loss and may struggle with questions about identity. Like any mother, I want to wrap her up in my arms and protect her from anything painful. But I know that I cannot give her a happily-ever-after ending in regards to her birthmother or birth family; I can only listen and help her navigate through the unanswerable questions about her early life.

This Mother’s Day I will surely celebrate the joys and blessings of motherhood. But, as a mother, I will also take pause to consider the loss of Ella’s birthmother—a loss that must be intertwined into our lives to fully understand the rich fabric of our daughter’s beginning.