It started as a normal bedtime. He wasn't angry, upset or even running on a high engine. So it caught me off-guard when I leaned down to kiss him and he started talking to her. His birth mommy. We call her Mommy T.
"I won't forget you, I won't. I promise I won't forget you!"
He asked if she could visit.
He begged me to promise him that she is okay.
"Promise me, Promise me!"
And, because I know for fact she is okay, I promised.
I assured him I would never lie to him.
He asked me if she had a family?
I told him the truth.
And I wrote. I tried to capture the grief of a little boy trying to hold on to what he doesn't fully understand. Six pages of a little heart making promises, he isn't sure he can keep.
And then, he asked me to write her a note. So we did.
I wrote his words, telling her she is the best mommy in the world.
And then I held him. And promised him it would be okay.
And two hours later, he fell asleep.
We've been told by some professionals that kids adopted as young as our boys were, don't have memories.
I beg to differ.
I'd love to hear how you handle your little ones inquiries and grief relating to their own birth mommies. Or, your own if you are adopted. Leave a comment or share a link.
Happy Wednesday y'all!