Writing her letters

I am allowed to write Leslie one letter a month. Her new adoptive mother thought that any more than that might overwhelm Leslie since she is going through so much with her original adoptive mother. Her original adoptive mother is now a raging alcoholic who has her movements monitored with an ankle bracelet. She only gets supervised visits with Leslie and her older adopted sister Michelle. I do not know the extent of how her alcoholism has affected the girls. I'm just grateful that she has been out of that home environment for several years now. Her adoptive father, Greg, has had full custody of both girls for over three years now. He remarried about four years ago to a woman with three kids of her own. They now have a two year-old together. I like to think of them as a modern day "Brady Bunch." Leslie seems incredibly well adjusted, still excelling in school, enjoying her friends, as well as participating in plenty of extracirricular activities. I'm getting off topic though...

Each month I have this opportunity to write Leslie. I have been writing for over two and a half years now since I have had contact with Leslie. Every month though, it is a struggle for me to write her. It's not that I do not know what to say. I have worked as a nanny for many years so I know how to communicate with children. It is incredibly important to me that I write her monthly, or at least every other month if life gets a bit chaotic. I want to show Leslie that I am dependable. I grew up never knowing what to expect from my parents. Their behavior and actions were more often than not incredibly erratic. Frequently, my basic needs were not met. There was rarely any food stocked in the refridgerator. I never knew if I would come home to a sober or a drunk father. My mother's moods were incredibly unpredictable. I struggled to maintain a daily routine. So my letter writing to Leslie is entangled with my hopes and expectations regarding what she feels about me. Now I know I have no influence over he perceptions, but that does not stop me from wanting her to know that I am different than her original adoptive mother (Darla).

Well, the letter writing causes me a lot of anxiety. It seems obvious why now. I really want Leslie to think the best of me. In my mind each letter is meant to show her that I am different than Darla. I want her to know that I am responsible, reliable, caring, nurturing, etc. Really, I must want her to know that I am not my parents that I am not "dysfunctional." Who am I kidding though? I am, in many ways, dysfunctional. I am not perfect, but in those letters I want to sound so mature, intelligent, interesting, etc. The letters are my opportunity to show her that I am someone worth knowing. At least that is what I have come to know that I unconsciously believe.

Some days I am overwhelmed with feelings of hope, but not in the way that you might think. I hope that she will want a relationship with me. I hope that she will forgive me for giving her to another family. I hope that she will forgive me for choosing a terrible mother for her. I grew up with an alcoholic parent. It was in many ways horrific. I hope that she will like me. I secretly hope that in those letters I say something right so that she will look up to me. I hope that she will be proud that I am her birthmother. I hope that I accomplish enough, that I'm smart enough, that I'm beautiful enough to meet her expectations of me.

I admit it. The moments that those thoughts filter through my mind are not good moments. I did not place Leslie with another family because it was what was best for me. I could have chose abortion. That would have been easier for me. I chose adoption because it was the best option for her. I was in no way ready or able to raise a child without perpetuating the same cycle of emotional abuse that I experienced. On good days and when I am having a "grounded" moment I remember that and the expectations I have melt away. Whether or not Leslie decides to have a relationship with me is her choice and it is independent from the choice I made. The choice I made was about her not me so whether or not she wants a relationship with me is also about her and not me.

She may want to be in my life. She may not. She may like me, look up to me, admire me like I secretly hope she will, but then again she might not. Whatever happens happens and today I accept that. Today I remember that my choice was about Leslie's life and that it will always be that way.