A (never to be sent) letter to a birthmum

Dear X

At this time of year, my thoughts often turn to you. Between mother’s day, his birthday and the anniversary of him moving, we have a lot of memories during March.

I often wonder how you are doing, I hope you are happy, because no matter what else has happened you deserve to be happy. I cannot imagine your up bringing and the life you led for so many years, sometimes I allow myself to wonder how that would have affected me and I remember all the empathy and sympathy I have for you. So I truly hope you are happy now.

My heart breaks though, because some of the choices that you made have left our boy with life long affects. Some of the things that happened to you have left him with serious issues. And in the tough moments, I wonder why? Why you did you make the choices you did? Why did you not understand the damage that would be done? Just why? And I want to scream and shout at you, because of the damage you have inflicted on our son.

And then I stop and I remember. I cannot imagine the pain. I cannot imagine having to make the choices you did. I cannot imagine what I would do, differently. I hope I would have had the strength to choose differently, but who really knows. I watch our teenage girls at work. I know that some of them are following down the path you walked upon. The idea, of being loved, no matter how that love is expressed is such a powerful idea to those teenagers. And I worry about them, and it reminds me of you.

But my heart is broken when I think of our son’s future. So much of what you did; so much of the choices you made have broken our boy. And I can’t share that with you right now. And somehow that feels unfair, we are left dealing with your consequences, the issues that you caused. Today we had a meeting at school about him, talking of his future, and right now everything is a little bleak.

And I’m sorry but I am glad his birth father is dead. Because if he wants to see you we will support that; in the future when he is older. But he can’t ever meet his birth dad and I am glad. And that sounds horrid and awful, but the choices you made, because of him are why we are where we are now. It’s also why you are where you are. He has no way of ruining more lives and I am glad.

I hope you appreciate that at times I am angry with you. That I am sure you could have made different choices. I also hope you understand that the anger passes and I remember that it isn’t all your fault. But I am not to blame, and I get the anger and the rage. I get the bruises. I go to meetings to talk about where we go next; today someone said to me ‘can’t you try….’ and I had to say no, because right now I have nothing left to give. That will change, I will make the changes we need and we will try the next idea someone suggests.

Right now, 7 years after he moved in, we are both making progress and marking time. He still struggles so much with his belief in us as a family. He still doesn’t trust adults to do as they say. So much anxiety, so much worry wrapped up in a package that looks like anger. Our lives are challenging, and some of that is down to you.

Don’t worry, by the time I write the next letterbox letter I will have squashed the feelings and normal service will resume. The next letterbox will be full of news about what we have done. The feelings will not fall out. But I needed today, to write this. To at least try to explain what I am feeling.


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