I have been thinking a lot lately about the Other Woman who is a constant in our lives. She is the vessel God used to give us an incredible gift. Sometimes her presence in our lives is more subtle than others, but lately she has been ever-present in my mind. Even more so lately since we recently had the privilege of hearing from a birth mother panel. And with reaching a rather significant milestone in K’s life I have wondered how her “tummy mommy” is doing with it all.
Open adoption is all the rage (well in the adoption world anyway) and we are learning more about it. I used to feel very insecure about the idea of this “other woman” being so involved in our world on an ongoing basis. But from the first moment of seeing K in the hospital my heart swelled with an enormous amount of gratitude and it has only increased in the days and years since. You see, I am competitive and saw this “Other Woman” as a threat to my family. But it is so not like that at all. Certainly she is sad to say good-bye to traditional parenthood, but also so grateful for the opportunity to give her baby what she believes is best for him or her. And definitely the family is thrilled to receive this gift, but sad to know how painful a loss it is for the woman who delivered. Adoption is in many ways the ultimate picture of bittersweet: such a heartbreaking and sad time for the birth family and such a time of incredible joy and excitement for the adoptive family–wonderfully painful for one and painfully wonderful for the other.
And I guess I also used to be jealous because any child that would enter our lives would always be hers first. And that used to really bother me. It probably shouldn’t, but it did. I’m not gonna lie–sometimes it still does. But K is definitely mine even though she is also hers. At least as “mine” as any child could ever be. Ultimately, our children–no matter how they become part of our family–are God’s and not our own. We are entrusted with their little bodies and minds and it is our privilege and responsibility to care for them, love them, and teach them about the One who made them. But they always have been and always will be HIS–whether or not they are also HERS. Once I embraced that truth, I have more freely been able to welcome the constant presence of this Other Woman, whom I admire and love and hope to meet in Heaven one day. There are only a handful of people in this world that exhibit great courage–and ones who hold the title “birth parent” are definitely part of that crowd.
Learning to Dance in the Rain 