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One sixteen
You had me
Two sixteens
You needed me
Three sixteens
And you were gone
When I almost
Found you
I lost you
Before I knew you
So long
mjad Nov 2018
I often wonder about my own origin
I wonder how much of me is from just one woman
I also wonder if I am anything like the man
Does my DNA from her make me the good student I am
Does it explain my ever present sarcasm and attitude
I wonder if we have the same personality or mood
I wonder about my appearance and hers
Does her hair also fall down her back or shape her curves
Does it reflect in the same golden way that mine does
Does she also let hers grow too long just because

I know you from online
And from the few files I find
Is my height, or lack thereof, from you?
(After all, I'm only five foot two)
Do all my half siblings know of me, or just you?
Do you talk to my father? Does he want to meet too?

I meet you this week
17 years or 6,463 days
Not a moment too late
A reunion like an awkward first date
I was told to "expect nothing" from it
That I can easily call to just quit
But I know more everyday that I am ready
I want my family tree to be a little less webby

I want you to know I am not mad
I do not cry because I am sad
You are the reason I live the life I have
I cannot be more grateful for that

I understand the choice you made
That raising me was a price you had to pay
Your past is not something to regret
The questions I have are nothing to fret
You might fear the how's and why's
But they're the last thing on my mind
I just want to meet you for you
And to thank you for giving me the chance to live anew
I meet my birthmother later this week and I am full of emotions, but I want all birthmothers to know that the last question an adoptee has on their mind is  "why?" We want to know YOU, the you of today, so do not be scared. ( ps. If youre an adoptee too, hmu! I am here for you on your journey)
Neuvalence Dec 2017
Although I may never get to meet
the woman who carried my soul
through the cosmos inside her body
from a winter's frost to a spring's warmth

I'll be grateful for the one who
spent her blood, sweat and tears
holding me in her arms, guiding me
through a journey called life

Without a doubt, I'll stitch them both
into my heart's core as they were
generous in taking time to sculpt me
into the person I am
Gracie Anne Nov 2017
Hours of labor, and minutes of rest
Only to be taken away from the breast.
Months of pain, hardship, and fear,
But, in the end my decision is clear.

I am not ready to bear a child on my own
My partner has left me; I am all alone.
My baby will do well in the hands of another,
Anyone but me could be a better mother.

So I hand off my child into the arms of a nurse,
Knowing for the rest of my life I'll be cursed.
She cradles her gently, and holds her with care,
While I lay there and wallow in self-hate and despair.

She brings back my daughter all squeaky and clean
Her new parents follow with eyes all agleam.
They name her Grace, meaning "gift from God,"
I smile and laugh, feeling like a fraud.

I hand her over, my baby no more,
As she leaves my hands, I feel a jolt in my core.
I'll never see her again, but I know this is right,
They're taking my darkness to turn it to their light.

I drive away from the hospital, with a wave and a smile
Knowing I'm leaving behind my child
...
This is a work in progress. I'm writing this, posing as my birth mother who gave me up for adoption 17 years ago. Any help would be greatly appreciated. :)

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