Marmalade on Wry

Last October we lost a family member. She lived on the other side of the country, and we didn’t talk much, but it was a tremendous loss. The grief was different because only my household had ever met her, and yet we had planned to have her in our lives forever. It was this potential relationship that we really mourn, and I have been unable to find anyone who has been through a similar situation (which in the day & age of the Internet is truly remarkable).

We lost J, our daughter’s birth-mother, first-mother, whatever words make most sense to you. We went into the open adoption situation so that our daughter, Lily, would have access to information and the potential for a life-long relationship. Now that has been taken from us all, my daughter, her first-mother, me, the birth-father.

I remember when Lily was born & we discussed how open we wanted everything to be with the agency mediating. J & I had the same philosophy of wait & see how we all feel, why codify things now when who knows what the future will bring? Besides the agency had already advised us that no of it was legally enforceable anyway, it’s an ethical agreement. (I wonder if they told the birth-parents that?)

So many people want the birth-parents to go away, I did not. Our agency said they probably would disappear, they were wrong (I wonder if they tell every family that?)

This is such an ongoing situation now, how will our daughter have access to pictures and information? Do we make contact with J’s family? How do we stay in contact with her half-brothers? What do we tell family & friends when they ask about her? A child psychologist friend told me that whatever I do, I’ll have to be able to explain it later to Lily. I will fight for answers to questions she cannot ask yet, because when she is grown, the answers may be out of reach.

I’ve always been a believer in the truth, so I told the kids everything I knew in age appropriate ways. Lily was with me on speaker phone when I first heard the unbelievable news that J was gone. We didn’t know at the time what the cause of death was, that required weeks of waiting & a full autopsy. And at three years old, Lily didn’t really ask how J died, which was okay because I was unable to say.

Five months later a grandparent came to visit, and as I drove through the rainy night, I got to hear Lily give a near verbatim account of what happened that day. The car was quiet, and it was a sad & beautiful tale. I got to hear my almost 4 year old Lily say how sad mommy was when J died. I am glad she knows that, that I mourned, and still do.

I will always be able to explain why I was sad, and that feeling will never be out of reach.