Who am I and where do I belong?

It happened last night. My baby cried about being adopted. She has never ever known another family or way of life. I was the first person to hold her after the doctor. I have always known this day would come, and thought I was prepared. It wrenched my heart out anyway.

I have never been a big fan of not letting your child know that they are adopted, but we could not have hidden it if we wanted to. We are two white parents with 6 biological children and she is bi-racial. No blue eyes and blonde/red hair for her. She knows her birth mom's name and the few sketchy things that are appropriate to tell an 8 year old. She has asked about her skin color and wished that she could have freckles like me.

But last night. She was going through some books and found one of the story books about adoption that I had purchased for her when she was born. She has read the others (or had them read to her) more than once. This one, I don't remember ever reading to her. It is called "She will never, ever stop loving you" and is a story about the birth mother doing everything she could to have a healthy baby and then giving him to his adoptive family. It then talks about how the birth mother gave the child and the family a great gift in letting them be a family and that the birth mother will always love the child even though she is not the mom anymore.

When I was done, there were tears running down my baby's cheeks. We talked about why she was sad. We talked about the things that we knew about her birth mom. We talked about why she was adopted- both from the birth mom's reasons to mine. We talked about all the things she has because she lives with us and that she would not have if she didn't. We talked about how it is ok to feel this way and that she will probably feel this way again. We talked about how, when she is 18, she can find her birth mom if she wants to.

We don't have contact with the birth mom. I know her name and a bit of her background (more than I am willing to share with an 8 year old). I know more than I should. She was born in a hospital that had only had 1 other adoption and when we were registering, the person left the room and left all the documents regarding the birth mom on the desk. I peeked and wrote down. Then after the birth, the insurance sent a document to us that was supposed to go to the adoption agency. Most of the vital information was blacked out, but not all. I made a copy before sending it to the right place. All of this is in a fireproof box to be looked at later.

I send updated pictures of my baby to the agency, who does have contact with birth mom. A couple of years ago, she wrote and wanted a couple more. My baby drew a picture and wrote a small letter. I asked for a picture of her so my baby could see what she looks like. The letter we got back stated that she does not have a camera or money to have a picture taken and a bunch of stuff that a small child of 6 did not need to read. So, I put it away for later.

Last night in all of the talking, my baby asked, "Why when we send her pictures and letters does she never write back?" I reminded her of the letter that she had sent, but she was not happy. She wants to see and to know, but how do you tell an 8 year old that her birth mom has issues (to put it politely)? How do you tell an 8 year old that the brothers and sisters that still live with birth mom are not living a great life? How does an 8 year old reconcile the fact that her birth mom has given birth 6-7 times and all but 2 of those kids live with her? Or that birth mom dropped out of college and now works 3 minimum wage jobs just to pay the rent? In fact, you don't go into all of it, but some of it has to so that she can understand how birth mom came to her decision. It all gets so complicated.

Then we prayed and went to sleep. I was hoping that she would be happier this morning, but when I left for work, there were the sad, silent tears again. And it is breaking my heart.
I knew the day would come, and I know it is just the beginning, but I was not as ready as I thought I would be. And a kiss and a bandaid will not fix this hurt and make it go away- for either of us.