I have a folder where I keep the important early mementos I have of K. Some time ago, I had thought I’d misplaced it and I was frantic, because the items are irreplaceable. This weekend, though, I found it, safe and sound in my nightstand.
I took the contents out and I smiled over a few of them, some pictures, letters, her footprints. I’d only meant to glance through, then put the folder away again. I’m saving most of the things for her, really, as much as me.
Then I happened to open one folded piece of paper. The paper I signed relinquishing my rights to my child, all those years ago. I had forgotten that paper.
At the top was her name, the name I gave her. It is the only official document I have with her name on it. And it’s the one where I gave her away. She’ll never have that name again, she’ll never be the person she would have been. I have no idea if that is better, worse, or indifferent for her at this point.
I spent two hours sobbing uncontrollably as I stared at that paper.
I don’t know if I could or should ever give it to her.
I don’t know how to process this. I feel very sad right now. Sad and stupid.
Oh, Sweetie. No words. But lots of hugs.
Coco,
{{{{{{{{{HUGS}}}}}}}}} I know those feelings, albeit from the other side.
If it was me, I would want to have it, or at least a copy of it – because I would understand why you want to keep it.
I cried when I found out that Iris kept a slip of paper that she had written my time of birth and weight and length on. It meant so much to me to know that she cared enough about me to think that something so little might be so important one day.
I also look at the only paper with my first names on it and wonder who I would have been. And you are right, neither is better or worse, just different.
Save the paper, keep it safe, and share it in person with her one day. It will be important to her, and even more special to get it from you.
Andy
OMFG. I totally get this. I have a box of these things. A fire proof strong box that I have had for 22 years. It goes with me everywhere. Once I thought I lost it, I literally had a panic attack worth of an ER visit. My then husband dug through our garage till 3 am to find it for me.
As for sharing it,I never thought about that. Meaning, how would she feel to view it? I have a copy too. One flimsy piece of paper where I turn my newborn child’s life over to strangers.
Hugs. I am with you sister. So very with you.
I randomly came across this and my heart goes out to you. I just needed to tell you that.
Oh Coco.
My heart races just thinking about the TPR paper. Actually reading it… brutal. (((((((Hugs))))))))
You are her mother. No paper can take away your motherhood. The mommy-daughter relationship you were meant to have–sadly, yes. But your intrinsic motherhood? Your love for her? NO.
((( Coco))) I hate coming across that paper. I freaking hate it!!! I keep all those things in “her drawer” I don’t go into it and when I unexpectly open it I just sit for hours going thru every single thing. I have a copy of all of the paperwork we had to fill out.
I just don’t know what to write (((hugs)))
((((Coco))))) This brought me to tears.
I think there will be a day you share this with your daughter. It may be a painful piece of paper. But it also shares your name for her. Making it beautiful.
Someday I will need to share with PooWee that he once had another name. It tears me to pieces to think of doing it. One of my BIGGEST regrets-not naming him when he was born. I feel it shows how I didn’t feel he was mine.
I think your daughter will cherish the name you gave her.
I second what Andy and Roni have said above. My own birthmother will not tell me the name she gave me when I was born, insisting that the name my parents gave me is beautiful. It is like one more small piece of me that will forever be a question mark… I would very much like to know who I was for those first three days of my life, when I – however briefly – was hers only and not yet part of my family. So, at the very least, I’d share the information with K when the time is right, if not the actual document itself. I too believe she will cherish knowing her first name, the one you gave her.
(((((Coco))))) Grief that just pops up suddenly out of nowhere all unexpectedly to gobsmack us is the worst. Hugs to you, my friend.
Hugs Coco,
All i can say is we have saved almost every paper, court document, case summary and photocopies of the OBC (we could not get the original) and I have put almost everything into binders that we will put away for when the kids are old enough to understand it all.
In their case, much of the information is not pretty at all and will be tough to digest but it is theirs all the same. Much of it is hard for me to read as an adult.
I think K will want to know that information at some point. and yes, it will mean lot that she gets that info from you!
I have been reading your blog for awhile and finally decided it was time to make public my own journey! A lot of what you wrire about K is beautiful to me! Thank you for sharing your thoughts.
Ouch…the TPR paper. You know what though? I really want to see mine and I really want to know what she named me. I don’t even know if she has a copy of the TPR. Probably though. Those are just two things I am too afraid to ask for…
Gosh, adoption can be so hard and awkward and painful! It is great to see how much you love K though. She has an awesome Mom!
Thinking of you.
oh….late but here are the hugs, ((((((((Coco))))))) you know I’m guessing there is a part of K that will always be her original name… just last month on a sad cold day I went to the beach, got a great big stick and wrote both my names next to one another in the sand, in huge letters, with my original first and last names sandwiching my adoptive name…and stood back and looked at it and felt all of it, I reclaimed all of it. Keep the paper, share it with her one day. xoxo