A Letter For My Daughter & Her Parents, From Her Birth Mother

I am a birth mother, and today is my daughter’s birthday. I have never met her, but I think about her all the time, especially this time of year.

I’ve never doubted that adoption was the best thing for my daughter at the time, although I have frequently wondered what might have been if I hadn’t needed to give her up. I wonder if we would have a relationship as good as the one I have with my own mother? I wonder if we would share similar tastes in music, movies, books, clothes, food… I wonder what she has chosen to do with her life, whether she has found a career that she loves and makes her feel fulfilled. I wonder if she has started her own family yet, if she has children of her own now.

I wonder if she knows about me. I wonder if she knows she is adopted. If she knows how much I loved her then and still do now. I wonder if she’ll ever realize how often I think about her.

I wonder if her parents know how indebted and grateful I am to them for giving her the things I couldn’t. I wonder if they’ve ever been curious about me. I wonder if they’ve ever wanted to contact me.

I don’t regret my decision to choose adoption. I only regret the circumstances of my life at the time that made that the best choice for my daughter and for me.

I hope she feels loved and cherished by her family and friends. I hope she is healthy and happy.

People often ask me why I don’t find her. The answer is simple. I gave up my rights when I gave her up for adoption. She is the one with all the rights now, in my opinion. As she approached her eighteenth birthday some years ago, I hoped with all my heart that she might come looking for me when she came of age. Sure, I’ve thought about looking for her myself just to see how she is doing, but two thoughts plague me every time I even remotely consider it.

First, while I left it open for her family and her to contact me if they ever wanted to, I really have no idea if she knows if she is adopted. I worry that if I found her, something might accidentally slip and cause her pain, which is the last thing I want. If she doesn’t know she is adopted, I don’t want to be the one to reveal that, whether purposely or accidentally.

Second, there is a dark part of my mind that worries if I tried to find her, I’d discover something terrible had happened to her like being killed by a drunk driver or something at a young age. Right now, I can hold on to the hope that her life has been better than it would have been with me. If I found out that wasn’t true, I think it would destroy me.

But if she ever contacted me, I would be so happy to meet her, to get to know her and her family. I want so much to meet her parents. I can’t ever compare to them, could never take their place in her life, but I would love the chance to see her smile, to give her and her parents big hugs, and to hear about their lives together.