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#birthmother
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
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May 15, 2019
May 15, 2019 at 9:06 PM UTC
too few sixteens
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
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Nov 24, 2018
Nov 24, 2018 at 11:38 PM UTC
Meet
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
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Dec 29, 2017
Dec 29, 2017 at 7:01 PM UTC
Mothers of My Heart
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 ...
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Nov 30, 2017
Nov 30, 2017 at 8:11 AM UTC
Birth Mother