I didn't see my eldest daughter Annika from the time she was 24 hours old until she was 21, when I as birth mother and she as relinquished child reunited for the first time. It was a glorious reunion, one of the happiest days of my life.
Over the years, I became an advocate for birth mothers and adoption. I've been blessed by Annika. We got together again at Christmas 2008, and we learned about the different traditions of our families; then we met again at a state park north of Eureka, California, to camp with members of her birth family. She's up in Portland now, making a new life for herself.
Over the years, I became an advocate for birth mothers and adoption. I've been blessed by Annika. We got together again at Christmas 2008, and we learned about the different traditions of our families; then we met again at a state park north of Eureka, California, to camp with members of her birth family. She's up in Portland now, making a new life for herself.
Getting to know each other has been profound. I'm interested in discovering other people who have had reunions between birth parents and relinquished children. If you've had one, please share your stories with me.
This is the poem I wrote as I drove to the airport to pick her up for our second reunion:
Welcome
Down the hill, in the glade,
the writhing white branches of the leafless sycamores
look like dancing skeletons
dancing skeletons of trees
dancing dancing
my heart is dancing
you’re coming home today
oh my heart
is dancing
just like the sycamores down in the glade
their white arms swirling
above the green grass
you’re coming home today
and my heart is dancing
Down the hill, in the glade,
the writhing white branches of the leafless sycamores
look like dancing skeletons
dancing skeletons of trees
dancing dancing
my heart is dancing
you’re coming home today
oh my heart
is dancing
just like the sycamores down in the glade
their white arms swirling
above the green grass
you’re coming home today
and my heart is dancing
Chris Alba (c) 2009
