Ms. Birthmom...

This might make you cry...

This is for all of you birth parents out there...

Wordless Wednesday

For my Birth Father

If you had known of me
When I was conceived,
I wouldn't have had the
Special family God gave
To me;

He gave me adopted parents
An adopted sister too 
A very special family
That only comes too few

But there was something
Missing deep down inside,
The secrets of my 
Birth family,
That I hid with total pride.

Some special dreams really
Do come true
My special dream was
Someday knowing you.

© Jennifer Eynon

I am still looking....

Overwhelming...

I was thinking this week.  I was thinking about how much I love my boys.  The love I have for them and their families is overwhelming sometimes.

I thought I knew what love was.  Boy was I wrong!!!! I NEVER, in a million years, thought that love could be this big.  It is huge.  Gimantical, even.  I know, gimantical isn't a word, but it so applies!!! 

Think about that this weekend.  Think about how big and wonderful and overwhelming true love is.

Wordless Wednesday

Tell her what ails you... beauty-wise!!!

I have broken through my wall!!!!!! Yeah!!!! Ok... I have this friend who is an AMAZING woman.   She is the best friend of the Good Enough Witch.  She has just started her own blog.  She is the "Make-up Doctor".

Come on, I know I am not the only one to have make-up or beauty questions.  SHE can answer all of them!!!  She is that good.  

Check her out.  I know you will find her witty, charming, and above all, helpful!!!

I am drawing a blank....

To all my lovely readers...

I am drawing a blank.  I can't think of a thing to write about.  Help!  I am having MAJOR writer's block.

Do you have any questions for me?  About being a birthmom, and adoptee?  Anything?

Wordless Wednesday

Amount of openness?

An open adoption is defined as any contact with the birth family.   There are many degrees of openness. Letters, pictures, and visits.  That kind of thing.

With my boys, our relationship regarding all that is very organic.  We send letters and pictures when we have something to say.  We visit when we can.  VIsits are normally every 4 months or so.  It just happens to work out like that. Another birth mom friend of mine has a more structured arrangement.  Phone calls twice a year and visits near his birthday and hers. 

Whether you have a written agreement or not, I am in favor of open adoption.  I have to tell you though, I wasn't always.  "What changed?", you ask.  Well, I realized it was healthier for all parties involved.  I wouldn't wonder and neither would they.  

Keeping things in the open!!

Ms. Birthmom

Beautiful

I'd love to look at you. In your eyes. Just once. Once. To see how our eyes are the same.  I have your eyes. Your hair, your lips, your hopes, your self, your everything. What force pushed us away? What will bring us back? Anything? I'll know some day. Is what you carried in your womb still in your heart? Growing. Kicking. We are connected by more than blood. Our feelings, our dreams, our souls. Our connection. Somewhere. Deep inside, I can feel you. I hear your voice calling me. Young and breathless. We are. I dream. Of your face. Laughing. Crying. Embracing what is so far away. What I long for. Bringing me salvation in my time of need. A bond. Never shattered, never replaced. Only put on hold. To be discovered. I love what you represent. My being, my self. I have no photos. no misrepresented images of a mystery. Why can't I look in the mirror and see. You. Behind my smile, my hands, my eyes. There you are. Waiting. To be discovered. Or are you hiding from the inevitable thing we call loneliness? Sing to me. I want to hear your voice. Talk to me. I want to feel your pain. Listen to me. I am your own. Hear me. I need. See me. I want to be educated. Be me. I am you. Dreams of embraces are lost in glass pillows. Reality. I am not yours to have and hold. Iron walls. Close in. You are somewhere, anywhere, nowhere. I can't see you. Are you running? Do you dream of me? Darkness. My, your, our mind. Plays with my eyes and teaches my heart to fly from pain. Did you whisper to me at night? Inside you. Did you rationalize leaving me? Did you cry on me, in you, when everyone else was asleep? Dreaming. Did you look at me? Did you see me? What were you thinking as they tore me from you? How do you sleep? Do you sleep? I don't. Dreaming of the day your heart. Your door, your mind, your pain, your eyes, your ears, your arms. Will open to me and I can call. Scream. Cry. Your name. Mother. 

© Author Unknown

Ms. Birthmom