Dear Lucy 4

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Dear Lucy,

The summer is most certainly over now. October is approaching.

This time seven years ago, my world was in shambles. At the beginning of the year I had thought everything was going great, but sometimes people and situations aren’t always what they seem.

What I had thought was stable and predictable quickly revealed itself to be all one big lie, and I was terrified of what the future was to bring.  Around this time, I hadn’t left the house without my mom for two months. I couldn’t answer my phone or the door out of fear. My confidence quickly shut down. I was going to have to leave the house I was in as I could no longer afford anything.

At this time I had no idea what I was going to do, because raising two children by myself under the circumstances seemed impossible. I’d have been a nervous wreck. I wouldn’t have had the emotional stability to give you both what you needed. I would have been confined by fear and worry on a daily basis.

I knew this would not be right for you. But at this time seven years ago, I had no solutions. I was uncertain of everything except one thing: you and your big brother deserved better.

You are going to be seven soon and you’re still a stranger to me, and I to you. I’m so sorry if this ever hurts you. I truly hope it doesn’t.

I’m over here, on the other side of the world right now, seeing pictures of you doing things and wondering how it’s possible that you could be so much like me.

I hope I get to meet you one day.

Love Always,

Birth Mom


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Not a Post About Crochet (Only)

The past few days I have been working on something special.

I was going to log on and write a post about it the other day, but what I ended up with was The Other Things I Am. Needless to say I was exasperated that day… motherhood is really trying sometimes.

One of the things I had meant to say with that post was that, in addition to writing and a bunch of other things, I crochet as well. Like writing, I haven’t crocheted in about a decade, until recently. Working with yarn has a tendency to reduce stress, so I took up knitting and restarted my crochet habit around February time.

I first made one of these special things I mentioned a couple of months back, using a free pattern from one of my favourite magazines. I altered the pattern slightly and used different yarn and a differently sized hook. What it made was a larger, monotone version of the stuffed toy, for which I designed some clothes. Namely, a ballerina costume and little ballet slippers. A picture of it even made its way into my favourite magazine and won me a ball of yarn. Woo!

While I made the toy, I had a friend in mind.

This friend of mine has been trying for four years to adopt. She doesn’t even want to adopt a baby, which are a more popular choice for hopeful parents, but a girl who is older and has been orphaned for some time, of which there are plenty. For a while she was trying to adopt from Russia because, at the time, it was her most promising option. Then her country legalized same-sex marriage. And that was it; all her money wasted (because adoption is not cheap), emotional rollercoaster ride back to square one. (Russia says “NYET” to any country which allows same-sex marriage, regardless of the sexuality of the hopeful parents.) She was devastated.

Now she is trying from another country, as there are no matches for her in her own country, and so far that’s looking promising. I have the highest hopes for her that she will finally have the joy of being a mother (even though it is such a challenge sometimes) and while she was visiting most recently, I gave her the toy I had made.

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The bear has now gone overseas to go live with my friend, and hopefully soon, her new daughter.

Another friend of mine saw the bear before it was given away. The other day she called me and asked if I’d make one for a local charity event whereby the bear will be in a big jar and donations will be raised as people guess the name of the bear to try to win it. Saves counting jelly beans! So I got right on it, and have finally finished the last little ballet slipper today.

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As I was making it, I thought of the first friend again. As I’m sure most of you have heard, the US recently legalised same-sex marriages. While I am pleased for the people who have been waiting a long time for this, and would like to join completely in their joy, I can’t help but think about how many parents-in-waiting are out there, and how many Russian orphans are out there, who have not been able to be matched because of Russia’s rules on adopting to places where same-sex marriage is simply legal.

I should clarify, the ban for adoption to US parents came into effect late 2014, not the other day. I am not sure of the exact reasons for the ban, maybe just a bit of animosity between the two countries who aren’t exactly friends, but as several states had already legalised these types of marriages, it would not be far-fetched to say that Russia didn’t want its children around same-sex marriages. This feels wrong.

It would be easy to say “Well that’s Russia’s problem,” and not be entirely wrong to say that. But there are children not at fault for simply being Russian, and parents meeting every other criteria for adopting from Russia who are not at fault for simply being from a country which has legalised same-sex marriage. The US is a leader in most political trends, and I would bet many countries will now follow in its steps.

I wonder what Russia’s problem is with this subject. But Russia and the adoption fiasco are just one example of divided opinions about who should be allowed to marry. One doesn’t even need to leave the house to see how divided people are about this. And maybe you think I’m going to give a strong opinion one way or the other…

But I don’t know what the correct answer is on this subject. I can see where people are coming from when they say it’s destroying the family unit, not that I agree with their opinion. And I can see where people are coming from who say “love is love,” not that I agree that same-sex marriages should be legalised. I see how people say that heterosexual marriages are not so great themselves, how divorce should not be legal, and I see there are plenty of same-sex couples who have been together longer than hetero couples.

I’m not a psychologist and I don’t know what exactly children need and how different genders of parents affect their development from a factual scientific perspective. I do know that growing up without a dad sucked. My mom wasn’t gay, but I can’t say whether another woman around would have been harmful, in fact it would probably have been beneficial. I know a lot of gay guys who are excellent around kids. I know a lot of terrible heterosexual males who have failed miserably at the “dad thing.” I know both gay and straight moms who have failed and succeeded in raising good kids. I have had quite a few homosexual friends throughout the years who have been excellent friends, many times even better than the heterosexual ones.

I am also well-versed in the Bible but will probably never attend church again. I still haven’t covered my thoughts on religion and won’t get too far into that today, but I will say this:

Every action has an equal and opposite reaction.

There are a lot of innocent people who are adversely affected by the legalisation of something which makes so many others so happy, and what I’ve learned throughout my life is not to get caught up in any sensationalism about anything political. Politicians can be tricky, clever bastards.

I do not wish for my homosexual friends to be denied the right to marry. But I feel that marriage these days has too many legal implications to be just about the marital union of a couple. There are other things to consider: Who gets to be the recipient of the life insurance pay-out once one of them has passed? Without the legal recognition of the relationship, insurance companies can keep all those thousands they’ve collected in life insurance premiums. That seems unfair. There are exponentially more roots to this tree that many people, including myself, do not see.

What I do think is that for people preaching religious principles, I sure hope they’re respectful with their words at the very least. I think the best way to put people off the message you are trying to convey is to be rude about it. For people who are jumping for joy, I sure hope this is as good as you think it is. And just like all the people who have commented on my posts wherever they’ve been seen, saying that I “just need God,” not knowing one way or another what my relationship with a deity has been throughout my life, I hope people know that being gay is not something church can cure, just like depression and anxiety and PTSD are not cured by a preacher.

How ironic is it that one of the biggest reasons I have PTSD and that a lot of undesirable things have happened in my life is because of a preacher in a church who was married and had a heterosexual family?

What I’m trying to say is, there is no black and white answer to this, or to many other things. But there are innocent children affected by adults everywhere because of their opinions and actions. And I am almost positive that having two parents, or even one parent, regardless of whether they’re heterosexual or not, is better than being stuck in an orphanage somewhere.

This adorable, innocent bear, reminds me of all the kids waiting to have parents. And it reminds me of all the people repeating opinions, regardless of whether they are the genuine beliefs of that person or concocted by the media and politicians, fighting against one another over this. What I see is people fighting one another, innocent children denied parents, and amazing potential mothers and fathers of all sexualities desperate for a chance to show children a loving family experience, denied this opportunity.

I’m really not sure which is worse, or what the solution may be, but just like I hope my friend gets to be a mother soon, I hope everything works out for all the right people and for all the right reasons.

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Dear Lucy 3

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    Dear Lucy,

         Today is Father’s Day. Do you know how awesome your dad is? He takes you hiking with your brother, takes you to church, gives you hugs…

If you’d have stayed with me you would have never known this man. I could probably have never taken you hiking. You’d have had a brother, and hugs, but the church you get to go to is so much more fun than any where I lived. And I’m almost certain you’d never have had a dad.

When I grew up I didn’t have a dad around. Sometimes I didn’t mind, but when I got older I was able to see how important dads are. I didn’t want that for you, what I had. I wanted better for you.

When you were in my tummy, there were a lot of things going on. A lot of sad things. I knew that if you stayed with me I would be so sad that I couldn’t take care of you and your half-brother, who was five at the time, properly. I didn’t have a big family and a lot of help. We were alone and didn’t have much. Not even a house to live in by ourselves. I was scared and wanted to do the right thing.

This is one time that my dad was around. He was usually mean, but this time he did something nice. He gave me a way to talk to your mom and dad. Because of this, I was able to get to know them a bit, and knew that they were the right family for you.

With them, you’d have a home. A big family. You’d still have a big brother. You’d have more than just a mom to give you hugs, you’d have a dad to do so much more than that. You’d be safe. And happy.

Love Always,

Birth Mom


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What is Dear Lucy About?

Dear Lucy 2

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Dear Lucy,

As I write this to you I am several thousands of miles away. It rains a lot, but not the warm kind of rain I remember in the summers when I grew up.

When it would stay light outside until late, like it’s doing now, we would sometimes have thunderstorms. The clouds, full of rain, would be purple against the bright pink sky. I’d stand in the puddle in the gutter with just my bare feet and let the rain water rush past my toes. I’d be soaking wet, and I didn’t even care.

It’s a wonder I didn’t get struck by lightning all those times I stood out in those storms, but maybe it’s because the trees in front of my house were so much taller than me. Watching the lightning in the storm-clouds was one of my favourite things to do. I wish there were storms like that here.

We had a lilac bush next to our house when I was little. The flowers were light purple. I looked forward to the spring and summer seasons when they would bloom. Their smell remains my favourite smell to this day. I get really excited when I see lilacs.

I lived next to a baseball stadium. In the summer we would always hear the announcers talking about the game over the loudspeakers. I didn’t much like baseball, but I’d be listening as I’d play outside with my jump-rope and hula hoop. I had roller skates, too. My sister and I had matching pairs. We were always playing outside. She even taught me to ride a bike.

Sisters can be pretty cool; I’m glad you have some. Did you know, my sister gave me the idea for your name? When she said the name I almost cried. It was beautiful and it was meant for you, I just knew it.

Love Always,

Birth Mom


Read Dear Lucy 3

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Dear Lucy 1

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  Dear Lucy,

         I have nothing but feelings of pride that you have become a girl so compassionate, and wonderful, and kind.

Part of me will always wish that I were there to shape you and make you into such a girl, or at least guide you and give you outlets and opportunities to that effect, but you have your real mother to thank for that.

You may not look much like her, but I can tell you with confidence that you will grow up to be just like her in many ways, for she has given you the pieces which I could not.

I want you to know I always wanted a daughter. I really did. And there was not a single quality about you which I did not love with all my being.

In spite of all the sickness, and migraines, and shortness of breath that came along with carrying you inside me for nine months, I enjoyed knowing you were in there, waiting to grace the world with your presence.

You might be wondering why, with what I have just told you, I didn’t keep you with me forever. And you are justified in wondering. Please always remember that sometimes things happen for reasons that we can’t know until the latter half of that purpose is revealed.

Soon I will tell you the story of how you came to be where you are today, but for now just look at your mother and father and understand: You would never have known the love of these two wonderful people, had circumstances not been what they were.

You are loved. And wanted.

And that, in itself, is a treasure.

Love Always,

Birth Mom


Read Dear Lucy 2

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Dear Lucy (Letters from a Birth Mother)

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In 2008 I parted with the only daughter I ever had. No matter what anyone tells anyone, adoption is not easy. It is not easy for the birth parents, it is not easy for the adoptive parents (whom I refer to as “real” parents).

This is one of the things in my life I don’t talk about much. It weighs very heavy on my heart for so many reasons. The whole year of 2008 was fraught with so much pain, so maybe it’s that talking about it brings up all those feelings. But it’s probably also because, despite the real reasons why I chose adoption for my daughter, people will always jump to conclusions as soon as the words “adoption” or “birth mother” are mentioned.

It has been a source of ridicule as some nasty people have tried to use it as a weapon against me by twisting the situation, insinuating that I had her taken off me. I did not. While I would like to remain calm and know that these people are trying to get to me and I shouldn’t let them, and that they have no idea what they’re talking about, it has hurt in the past. I believe I am better at handling it now, but like the rest of the things spoken about in this blog, I know I am not alone in these things.

I have kept so many of these things to myself over the years, and what it’s done is destroy my soul… Board up the windows, lock the doors. No one gets it. No one will understand. I can’t trust anyone with the information. Therefore I must remain alone and keep the secret hidden.

No. This will not be the case any longer. Every one of these things I write about is helping to heal my broken heart. It’s shedding light and giving perspective to a lot of issues at which people like to stand from afar and point fingers without even trying to step into the shoes of the ones they are so quick to judge.

It is also helping to break the silence between myself and her real parents. It was agreed that it would be an open adoption, but I haven’t known how to do that. As stated in other posts on this blog, I suffer from anxiety which is like a running script in the back of my mind, over-analysing everything, all the time. I talk myself out of so many things before they begin. I’ve wanted to reach out for years, but haven’t wanted to step on any toes, haven’t wanted to interfere or cause any trouble.

But now, Lucy can read. I am a long way away, but she can see these letters. And with the blessing of her parents, I can share them with the readers of this blog, because I think it’s important to tackle this semi-taboo subject to attain more understanding for both birth parents and real parents, and the children in these situations.


Table of Contents

Dear Lucy 1

Dear Lucy 2

Dear Lucy 3

Dear Lucy 4