I'm the second mother of my son, Daniel. His first mother, Rosa, chose me to raise him. This mothering is not without tears because I know how much Rosa would like to be the one chasing Daniel around the coffee table as he giggles with delight. She'd like to be changing his poopy diaper, or cleaning his high chair.

Her pain is part of my life. Not every day, but every time I remember. When I speak to her. And when I notice that Daniel no longer points his little fat finger at her photo and smiles. He looks so much like her that it tugs at my heart to see him with a n expression on his face that is just like her. It makes me wonder for the hundredth time what I am doing with him when he looks like her. Thank God looks aren't important. I'll get over that hump in time. And the grief will lessen for all of us. But it will never go away completely, for any of us.

To some it might seem strange that I purposely chose this kind of adoption. At first, when I found out that I could adopt an infant as a single, 40 year old woman I was ecstatic and wanted to go to China for my daughter. I changed my mind after doing a lot of reading about adoption, everything I could get my hands on at the library. I discovered that knowing the birth family is really important to a child, particularly as an adolescent when identity becomes an issue of individuation and separating from parents.

It was a little scary at first to think about inviting another family into the life to come of me and my child. But I knew it was the right thing for me to do for my child. So I applied to work with an independent facilitator here in the state of Washington. I chose an independent adoption because it was generally faster, cheaper and more participatory than the other adoption processes. Plus, being 40 was a factor I didn't want to have to apologize for.

Being single was never an issue. The birth mothers who were interested in me as a potential adoptive parent didn't care that I was single. I seemed to have the things that they wanted for their child, a home, an education, a decent job, supportive family and most of all, the timing to have a child in my life now. And they all liked the fact that I wanted an open adoption. In fact, I would have turned down a child if the birth mother wanted a closed adoption.

When Rosa saw my portfolio and wanted to meet me, I was cautiously excited. I had met or talked to a number of birth mothers by then and I knew enough to let my heart start up slowly.

She was sitting on the steps of her apartment building on a sunny day, holding a baby carrier, an old-fashioned car seat and when she came across the street, I saw him, this little guy of 9 1/2 months. He wasn't beautiful to me and I worried about that at first. Rosa had shaved his head the day before after botching a hair cut, so he looked a little like a miniature mobster. And he had the characteristics as a Hispanic child of some of the Peruvian Indians I've seen in pictures, characteristics I've never been been particularly attracted to.

He cried a lot when Rosa wasn't holding him. On the way back to her apartment he fell asleep in the van and I took a picture of him. It was so sweet. His large mouth so quiet, his bare chest golden brown.

Five days later, after taking care of him with Rosa there at their apartment for two days, I drove off with Daniel in the back, again asleep in his car seat, as Rosa walked down the street away from the car. Tears ran down my face, and perhaps down hers, although she was trying not to cry. She had leaned over the back and murmured something to him and kissed him as he slept. He didn't even know she was gone. And here I was, his new mother. No one asked his permission, or could tell him what had happened. He just woke up and I was there, and he never left.

As I look back at that experience now I am astonished I could do it because it was fraught with loss and pain for someone else. How could I possibly drive off with someone else's child even with her permission? I realize now that I wanted a child and one was being offered to me and I was happy and starting to fall in love with Daniel. I am grateful for that mothering blind spot that gave me the courage to bring him home.

At first Daniel was so amiable and funny and flexible. I think he thought I was just another babysitter. As time went on, he began to test me. And he turned into a real kid, a toddler who has moods and preferences and is just like I was, bright and independent and stubborn!

After eight months as my son, he is thoroughly mine, and I am his. There has been some kind of quantum leap in our bonding over the past two or three months. I can't even articulate it. But we look into each other's eyes or grin over something funny that we have shared and it's just there.

Rosa has tried several times since she signed the papers to get Daniel back. In my state the termination of parental rights is irrevocable when it goes to court after at least 48 hours following the signing. It has been so hard for her and I thank God that I have been able to be objective enough to use some of my therapist training and separate myself from taking anything personally. I know her grief and her family's displeasure and estrangement have driven her to seek out lawyers. It was always too late to do anything legally, perhaps by her design, perhaps not. But we still have a good relationship. And I feel more like her aunt or her mother than her son's second mother.

Life as the second mother of Daniel has become good. I can't imagine waking up without that little black head of hair next to me, or feeling his little fat warm back cuddled up to my tummy and chest as he drinks his bottle. At nearly 18 months, he is all boy and becoming a kid who has several tactics to convince mom of what he needs and wants.

I purchased a book called "1,2,3,Magic" which is a wonderful discipline method that doesn't use spanking and was recommended by the state social worker at our social services department. I know I need to be consistent with limits and how I enact them, so I am learning this new way of being. Until now, I have just responded as the moment led me and was not always pleased with my actions. And anything I said "No" to was done with greater fervor. So we are learning together as mother and son.

My parents adore Daniel and are his best supporters, and my best babysitters. The rest of my family seem to care about him and like him but have not become involved in his life or his care. This has taken some adjusting for me since I was always involved in the lives of my nieces and nephews. I am learning to move along with my life despite what family may approve of or do or not do. I have just completed a foster-adopt class so that I can pursue a second adoption. I'm not sure where this will end up, but I hope it will be with me as mom of several children, and with a balanced life and good supports. Even without adding other children to our family, Daniel and I are doing well now and I know he was meant to be my son.

© ROOTS & WINGS Adoption Magazine

Credits: Helen L. Schwartz