The Longest Three Months: Adoption Poetry

It comes as no surprise that adoption would arise in any member of the triad, the need to express their feelings by artistic means–like adoption poetry. How deep are the feelings experienced within an adoption journey! Without divulging too much of a story that is not completely mine to tell, my daughter’s adoption was all but smooth. We did not know we would be adopting her until the day she was born. Due to circumstances beyond our control, she had to wait in foster care for three months before we brought her home. My husband and I were able to see her very briefly the day she was born. We had to say a heartbreaking goodbye so that we could fight to soon say hello again. Her birth mother was also there and had to do the same.

We were incredibly fortunate to find out that she went to live with an amazing family during those three months. However, we knew nothing of where she was or who she was with for those three months until they were almost over. I thought of my daughter multiple times a day. My heart ached not knowing if she was okay or what she was doing. I had only my imagination, and I often went to a very dark place.

With an open adoption and an amazing foster family, whom we keep in touch with, my daughter has an incredible amount of people who love her. She not only has me as her mother, but two other incredible mothers who may not be so by name to her, but fully encompass the definition. As I left that hospital the day of her birth, I never knew we would be here. With such trepidation, I was prepared for the worst. I wondered if she would somehow know she was alone. Would she somehow feel forgotten? I wrote the following poem to sum up a little part of our story:

“I left you there. Not even old enough to know.

Who is my mother? Where is the one who loves me?

She left you there. Not wanting to part, but the demons kept her at arm’s length.

Who is my mother? Where is the one who loves me?

They came to take you home. Not flesh, not blood, nor permanent.

Who is my mother? Where is the one who loves me?

Three long months. I fought with all I had right alongside the one who gave you life, but could not keep you.

Who is my mother? Where is the one who loves me?

The gavel fell and you were ours forever onward. But still hers. Still theirs. Loved.

They are my mothers. They are the ones who love me. “

-Lita Jordan

About The Author