My first nine months were spent in your womb,
But I never knew you.
The certificate says “Baby Girl Dawson”,
That’s all I know for sure.
All those years ago,
Abortion wasn’t even legal.
But I wonder did you love me,
Dare I even ask…why you didn’t want me?
What is the story,
On how I came to be?
Was I the product young love,
Or an illicit affair…or something more tragic?
Did you see me on that day,
Did you hold me in your arms?
Did you whisper sweet words of love,
And pray God’s blessing upon my life?
Or was I taken away,
Never to be seen again?
Was my birth a deep family secret,
Something not uttered in good company?
Do you ever shed a tear or feel guilty,
Or were you confident that you did the right thing?
Did you ever marry,
Have children that you called your own?
Do I have brothers and sisters,
Am I anyone’s spitting image?
During your day,
Do your thoughts every turn to me?
Do you ever wonder,
Who and what I came to be?
Do we share the same faith,
And one day I’ll meet you in heaven?
To the mother I never knew,
I do wonder about you.
It would be with fear and trembling,
That I would dare to try and find you.
For I fear,
Of the answers I might hear.
January 5, 2008
With a friend’s decision to adopt a child…my thoughts have turned to my own adoption…so many years ago. I was given up for adoption at birth…and adopted at the age of 3 months. The only thing I know about my birth mother is that her last name was
It’s odd how a person who I never met…who I know nothing about can continue to be a part of my thoughts. Obviously I wonder what happened…why she gave me up for adoption. What her thoughts were over the years about her decision. Whatever happened with her life…did she go on to have a happy and successful life? Or was my birth…just another difficult circumstance in her life? Did she ever have children…do I have brothers and sisters? Do I look like anyone…is my personality or interests like anyone the family I never knew?
Abortion back then wasn’t an option…unless a woman chose to do a backstreet illegal abortion. I wonder…if it had been legal…would she still have made the same decision to give her baby up for adoption?
There are times I wonder…have I ever seen or met her? Would I like her…is she a good decent person? Or is she a wretch of a human being and the decision to have her baby adopted was one of the few good things she did? Is she still alive…how is her health? What diseases run in the family that I should know about? As much as ever contemplated the idea of trying to find her…I never followed through for fear of what I might find.
Many adoptions today are more open and children are able to know more about their birth parents. I think that’s a good thing…maybe?
The one scar that has remained in my life if the feeling of rejection. I knew that I was adopted for as long as I can remember…I don’t remember a time when I didn’t know that. It’s funny because even if a child is rejected by their birth mother…they are wanted by the family that adopts them. I wonder why the rejection is the dominate feeling?
The above picture is my first picture taken by a foster mother before I was adopted.