Dear Mom...About Your Granddaughter...

Hi, Mom. It's me, your oldest daughter.

I never told you this, and even in letter form, it's hard to tell you now. There is something that I've never told you for the past eight years.

It's about your granddaughter who you and I love so much.

What I want to tell you is that I almost gave her away for adoption when she was born.

I was scared when I found out I was pregnant: it had all come so suddenly. I hadn't shown any signs of it, and a month before she was born, I had been having strange pains. You know how stubborn I can be in going to the doctor. I thought that the pains would go away, but they never did. When I decided to get myself checked out...

SURPRISE!

I found out I was pregnant.

One month to get prepared for this? One month to change my entire life around? One month to ensure that I have the finances, mental stability, and capabilities of being a mother?

It was too much for me, and you know that I was never one for changes...especially one as big as that one.

You were so excited when you found out about your incoming first granddaughter. You cried on the phone. I remember. I remember you saying how much you already loved her, and that you would do anything for her.

It's why I also cried on the phone with you...

...because deep down inside, I couldn't tell you that I had been on a strong mission in finding the right adoption agency for her.

I didn't want to break your heart like that. I figured that I could buy some time, and perhaps tell you once I found someone who responded to my inquiries.

Her father wasn't too keen on giving our daughter away for adoption, but he also wasn't sure. I of course spoke to him, and attempted to tell him how we weren't ready for a child--how this child deserves someone who is ready and able to be an actual mother.

In retrospect, part of me wonders why I just didn't ask you.

Maybe because I would have felt ashamed. Perhaps I would have felt unworthy and useless in your eyes, having to ask you to be my daughter's legal guardian because I didn't want her or couldn't care for her. I guess a bit of my pride took over, but what I do know is...

...I never wanted to be seen as a failure in your eyes.

I also knew that I would feel awkward in visiting my daughter had you taken ownership. How could I? How could I approach her and look her in the eye, knowing that I'm her birth mother and that I chose not to take care of her and raise her?

No, for me at the time, I knew it would be easier to give her away to a stranger and never know what happened to her...

...right?

Part of me would have always wondered though. Part of me would have always wondered how she was, how she grew up, who she was with, and what she was doing. Part of me would wonder just what happened to what her father and I created. As a person of imagination, I know I would have thought about her a lot.

Perhaps that was why the universe chose to set forth the subsequent events the way that it did. Perhaps that was why everything had been so last minute, and why no adoption agency answered my inquiry. Perhaps that was why I had lost the password to my email and lost my phone in the case that someone had gotten back to me.

None of it had been a coincidence...for I am now absolutely content with my daughter, and I know that you know that. I never saw myself in this position--never saw myself as being the selfless mother that you consistently call me.

You have frequently told me how proud you are of who I have become...

…and that is partially why I'll likely never tell you this secret, my mother.