Mother, you had me but I never had you

If you don’t mind I think ill keep on the topic of children for a moment longer, this Sunday is Mother’s Day here in the UK. Although its now been hijacked like most meaningful days by the card companies, Mother’s Day has special meaning for me, as I have two mums to thank.

It’s no secret that I am adopted, but I rarely write about it, (you can read my only other post on the subject here). My parents were open about it as far back as I can remember – it was hard to miss, my sister is an Amazonian Kate Moss lookalike whilst I look like a pixie – and indeed the first book I learnt to read was entitled “I am adopted” (I was trying to find a link, but it was from the 70s). There is no scandal, no deep seated pain; my childhood was as good as I could have hoped for, weeks can go by without me thinking about it.

But every year, along comes Mother’s Day and I start to write a post on my adoption. Every year I delete it, thrash it, forget it, I think the process of writing about it is enough for me to remember how lucky I am.

But this year it will mean she has missed 30 years of Mother’s Days, 30 years of watching me grow up. She should be here with me when I contemplate starting my own family; she should be smiling at the thought of being a grandma, just like my adopted mum is doing with her daughter right now.

So this year, I just wanted to say Happy Mother’s Day, to you mum.

Ex

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