You were, are, wanted. It destroyed my relationship with your bio-dad's family, how badly they wanted you, without regard to what was best for you. His grandmother died wishing to 'bring her family together', to have you to rock to sleep in the ways that an old Italian great grandmother would. His mother dreamed of days when she could override my rights, take you no matter my (or your bio-dad's) choice. His dad silently disapproved. Yes, yes they wanted you. I s
My family. Oh how they ache to know you. I moved out here six weeks after your birth, running from the pain of you being so close and yet so far, and was greeted with a stark reminder. On the board, just inside my mother's door, was her version of your birth announcement. Your name, date of birth, weight and length, all written in her prettiest handwriting. All she would ever have of you, too sacred to erase. My whole pregnancy she begged me to bring you out to the left coast, to let her help me raise you.Still she cries for missing you, having never met you. My little brother - oh he rarely speaks of you, but when he does it is with the tone of support and yet pain. Yes, yes my son, you are wanted.
You are wanted in the two bedroom apartments I could not bear to get because I couldn't have an empty room where you could have been. In the days, even now, when I wonder how different my life would have been if you were here with me instead of there. I could whisper of taking you home from the hospital with me, to my house, because then it would be our house and oh how I wanted that. I wanted to breastfeed and diaper you.
So then, why didn't I? More than I wanted you to be my son, I wanted you to have the world. I want you to have the best of life, to do and have all of the things that I never did. I was not enough for you, and for that I am sorry and yet so grateful.
With Love Always,