Second Mom

 With every “big” day there is a hole. A loss. A hurt. 

 

When I first opened the email with his “dossier” of information, I breathed a sigh of relief. I’ll admit it. I selfishly thought that his having a mom who had died gave us a freedom in a way pursuing a relationship with biological family didn’t. I thought that, while we had to have hard conversations in the future about what happened to his maama, we wouldn’t have to have the conversation about her not wanting him or “giving him up”. I thought I got off easy. 

 

I was wrong. Not a day goes by when I don’t want to tell his maama something. Like today.

 

Margaret, do you see this boy of ours? Can you believe how tall he is? I didn’t realize how much he’d grown until I went to measure him. 

 

Do you see the way he pushes his little sister on the swing? Even though she annoys the spit out of him, he still loves her. Were you like that? Did you love without ceasing? 

 

Have you heard his laugh? Oh, my word. I call it a smoker’s laugh, but Daniel corrected me. It’s really just Ugandan. He laughs with his entire body, and it’s nothing if not contagious. You can’t stay silent if he’s laughing. Did you laugh like that? With your whole heart and soul? Because our son does. 

 

Are you watching him learn how to read? And did you see him do that color-by-number? When it said “5= light peach”, as much of a rule follower as he is, he completely defied it and colored the baseball player’s skin brown. Because this boy? This boy of ours knows that as much as the rules are important, they’re made to be broken on behalf of others, and he has the courage to break them. 

 

Did you notice how fiercely loyal he is? He is hesitant to go to first grade because he won’t have the same teacher. Oh, this boy. He’s so smart. He asks questions about the Trinity, and he’s planting a maple seed just to watch what happens. He’ll follow those questions until they are answered to his satisfaction. He doesn’t give up on a friend, be it a person or a seed or a deity. 

 

Have you noticed how handsome he is? Gosh. His chocolate skin and white teeth and liquid brown eyes could melt the hardest of hearts, even if he does hate to brush his hair. And speaking of which. I can imagine you’d be worried about how white we are and how brown he is. Me too. But also, please don’t. I asked him once if it bothered him, and he doesn’t mind. As long as we don’t adopt another sister, he says. He wants a brown brother. As ill-equipped as I am to raise a brown child, he’s teaching me along the way. I have a feeling you and I would both be hiding him away from the girls in the future, brown or white. He is a charmer. And I won’t ever stop trying to learn how to raise this boy of ours. 

 

Did you see how much he loves babies? He wants more babies in our house, as long as they don’t turn into “turdlers”. The toddlers get on his nerves. But the babies? He is the best at loving them. Were you a baby whisperer? Because Judah can make his sisters laugh when no one else can. There’s a reason all of Rowan’s baby dolls are named Judah. 

 

Margaret? I miss you. You’re not a liability. I know that now. How I wish I could message you or send you monthly updates or snap some pictures of our boy tomorrow at his party. It seems wildly unfair that I get to hold his hand through these first days of kindergarten, decorate for his parties, dance with him at his wedding. It’s so unfair. I wish with all of my heart that I could pick seven pictures and fill out paperwork about how he’s doing this month. No, he hasn’t needed any extra help. Yes, he’s on track academically. Some fun things we’ve done. Some ways that he’s grown. It hurts my heart that I think of these things, and I can’t tell you. 

 

Because our boy? Our boy is the earth-shaking, heart-stopping, world changer he is. He defends all of the people. He protects the way of truth. He asks the hard questions. He asks about you. He misses you, and he’s not afraid to say it. He taught me that birth mamas? They’re the heroes of this story. Regardless of why he’s mine at this point, YOU are the one who brought him to be. You are the one we have to thank. You are the one whose legacy he will carry on forever. 

 

So on this day? This sixth birthday of his, while we measure his growth and cut his cake and serve his favorite snacks, you are the one we are truly honoring. Because you brought him into this world, you fought for his survival and his good, and we benefit every day because of it. 

 

We miss you. We love you. I honestly hope he names his daughter after you. I love you more than you know. 

 

Love, 

Emily- the second mama. The one who tries to honor you for all the days.