Meeting Her. B's Birth Mom.


I've taken care of your baby for the last 4 months, against your wishes, but it had to be done. I almost met you the very first visit at DSS, but I was NOT ready. I wasn't ready to walk into the room holding your baby that I barely knew, knowing you could be deeply angered that I had her. I wasn't sure if you would be mad that a white girl was taking care of your black baby.

As I neared the door over 4 months ago, I turned to the worker and said, "Wait. Am I about to meet her parents? I don't think I can yet." So, the worker took your daughter and I left as quickly as I could. 

Yesterday, I assumed would be the day. It seemed as if the meeting we had to attend would be a round table event, so this time I was ready. Although, it didn't stop my nerves. Didn't stop the truth from coming out of my mouth at the time when I had to speak about things I've seen in my home concerning your daughter.

Something different has happened in the last 4 months. Your daughter is actually MY daughter, too. It's why she didn't want to go to you when she first saw you, why she pressed into my chest and leaned away. I've become her mother.

This had to happen, because otherwise, I couldn't care for her the way I know is best.

Plus, even though I have never personally talked to you, I actually have seen you. I've heard you testify, place your hand on a Bible and then beat around the bush of truth, praying that you would know the Truth of the gospel in your life. I've cringed through terrible details that should never have happened under your care, and I've heard you defend yourself as a mom, as a woman, doing the best thing you know how to do.

I've seen your deep love for your children. I've seen your deepest desire to want to do better, but this world is so so broken. Sometimes, we have to face the consequences of not being good stewards of the richest blessings on this Earth. I know, in a sense, what it's like to strive to do better, but not have the skills or ability to do so. To do one thing, and know you should do another. Part of me wonders, if you did have another chance, what would happen? But then, the deepest motherly instict tells me never to place children in your care ever again. Not that it is my choice.

This is out of our hands.

I believe I will watch you fight to the very end for your children, and in a way I am glad. I like seeing you want them, because I know that is good, that is a true part of being a mother.

This is a weird road to walk together. I am heartbroken for you and all your loss. I truly can't imagine it.

I will always be praying for you. I do not know your life. I do not know what thorny paths you have had to walk. But, I do promise you one thing, as I told you face to face. I promise to take the best care of your little girl that I can for as long as I have her.

I won't lie. I hope that is forever.

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