A Real Mother

People used to ask if I were your real mother,
And I always answered,
"Yes I am his real mother.
When he's happy I feel real joy,
And when he's hurting I cry real tears."

We wanted a child and waited through four lonely years of disappointment.
We asked for a baby,
And knew we would happily adopt whichever one we were offered,
Because we knew the baby was chosen for us by God.
Like a portrait that comes signed by the artist,
You came to us with God's signature.

When we very first saw you we knew we loved you.
It was a love stronger than any I had ever felt before.
I would willingly have gone through the pains of giving birth,
And the struggle of learning to breastfeed,
If I could have done so,
But God did not ask me to do that.

Instead, I was asked to endure the comments of others,
Who thought I was a second-best woman,
And not a real mother.
They were happy for us, but thought it was different from having "your own child"
And when I gave birth to your brother two years later,
They waited to be proved right.

Then I discovered what I knew all along,
That the difference was in other people's minds, not ours.
A child is tied to a family with the cords of love,
Not through the strands of D.N.A.

I loved you then.
I love you now.
I will go on loving you throughout all Eternity.

I have found that the more people you have in your life to give love to,
The more love you have.
You never run out of love.
Just like the song you learned when you first started school -
"Love will stay, if you give it away,
You will keep on having more."

Olive Redmond 2000