The Saturday before Mother’s Day is celebrated by some as Birth Mother’s Day.
Squeaks birth mom doesn’t strike me as the kind of woman who would like to have a separate day to celebrate motherhood and her decision to place Squeaks for adoption. Admittedly, it has been awhile since I’ve been in contact with “M” (Squeak’s birth mother). That’s just the way things have panned out. Hopefully not a permanent thing. This is a marathon, not a sprint. Whether we speak daily, or yearly, we are connected for life and she is always in my thoughts and prayers.
From the short time we spent together in the hospital and the contact we had the months after, I don’t think “M” would find a separate day necessary. And, for my family’s personal needs/emotions, I don’t need a separate day either. I have absolutely nothing against the day or those who choose to celebrate Birth Mother’s Day. Not. At. All. Can’t say that enough. This is a totally personal opinion. (In other words, please don’t be mad at me for this post.)
“M” spoke and acted like her decision was an obvious one in her mind. Not to say she never showed sadness. She did. She’s a mother. Squeaks was her third child. She knows what it’s like to give birth to and raise a child. I don’t believe she loves Squeaks any less than she loves her two older children, so why would she need to separate the days on which she celebrates her motherhood?
I may be way off base. I may be totally wrong and I’m just putting words in “M”‘s mouth. In my mind, “M” is a mother. She’s Squeaks mother, no less so than I am. Just in a different way. Nothing I do in our daughter’s life would mean anything without “M”.
Especially now, as I feel my son move inside me, the strength and love Squeaks’ birth mom showed in placing her for adoption blows my mind. Being pregnant again has stirred up emotions for “M” that I never want to forget. Emotions I don’t think I’ll ever be able to put into words. Imagine splitting your mothering world in half. The world where you are physically and spiritually connected to your child before seeing their face, and the world where your heart walks around outside your body as you nurture your child’s growth. Separate those two parts of motherhood into two people. It’s difficult and beautiful and painful and otherworldly. To separate my celebration of her into a day apart from “mine” just doesn’t feel right. In fact to give her only one day a year doesn’t feel right either.