Sometimes adoption sneaks into my everyday life and slaps me in the face. I just happened to lean over my Husband’s shoulder to get a glimpse at the engagements in yesterday’s local newspaper. We don’t subscribe to the newspaper, mind you. My Husband purchased it just to have the big fire article on the front as a keepsake. Imagine my surprise when I saw this headline, all big and bold on the page I was just merely glimpsing at:
Honoring two moms: Bride fashions a new gown from those worn by her adoptive, birth mothers
He looked at me and I looked at him and relinquished control of the newspaper. While the story isn’t quite the piece of reunion beauty I was hoping for, it was still a touching read. The adoption is different than what we speak about here on the blog. How so? Quite simply, the birth mother died of breast cancer when her daughter was eight. The father remarried. The new mother formally adopted the daughter. So, not your typical scenario that we talk about here but the article was still moving.
The daughter fashion a new dress from both mothers’ wedding dresses. The outer pieces came from her adoptive mother’s dress while the lining was that of her birth mothers. She also wore her birth mother’s veil. It was a touching tribute to two women who had helped fashion who she was as a woman in vastly different ways.
And I think it speaks volumes, really, about the room an adopted child (or any child) has in their heart and life for people to love. As a birth mother myself, I worry from time to time, “Will she find enough space in her heart and her life to love me?” And yet, it’s quite akin to the love I have for each of my own children. I’ve added children to my life over the years but I haven’t quiet seemed to run out of love in my heart or room in my life. Yes, my living room looks like a toy explosion but that’s okay. Yes, I have to forcefully remind myself to write a monthly letter to my relinquished daughter but it’s not because I don’t love her. No, it’s because I love her so much that I don’t quite know what to say on a single sheet of paper. I love all of these kids. And from recent conversations with the two verbal ones and smiles from the youngest, I’m pretty sure that they love me as well.
I wonder if someday my only daughter, placed for adoption, would do something like this on her wedding day? That said, I love my own mother dearly but her wedding dress wasn’t quite my style. She was also much smaller than I was when I married. And her veil had faded and yellowed. I wouldn’t be insulted if she looked at my wedding stuff and said, “Uh, thanks but no thanks.” Truth be told, I’ll be honored to know that she’s getting married.
Photo Credit: DL2004, my wedding dress. Used with permission.