teardrops in the wind…

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It was the March of 1979.
Breezes turned balmy
and I pulled off my shoes,
letting swollen feet tramp across warming earth.
I was pregnant with my first baby,
due on St. Patrick’s Day.
For weeks I had ached for time to stop,
squeezing myself shut
to the coming separation,
the word “relinquish” hanging heavy on my heart.

But today the weather had turned
and hadn’t everything somehow changed?
Spring had come with her own dreamy wildness
and waves to ride far beyond the looming loss.

I spent the day sunsoaking,
watching the wind gently stir the tireswing
I’d played on not so long ago.

I was newly seventeen,
an “unwed mother”
with an unwanted chore:
to give my baby to someone she deserved.
Soon she would come apart from me,
gone before the leaves flushed out.
Their buds were fat and ready to pop….like me.
I went quiet with the knowing.

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But this day was vivid lovely and it got inside me.

As the sun began to dip low,
a storm of pain rumbled
and hammered down urgency inside my belly
and grownup voices began
herding me into the night
and toward the hospital.
I wanted to crawl into bed and hide beneath the covers,
cradling the life inside me one last time.

My body was betraying me,
forcing me into a cold,  sterile world
of tight lips and disapproving eyes.
As my frightened parents gathered my things,
I lunged back inside
for just one last moment alone
with the tiny life that had shaken my own with her gentle worth.

I lowered my heavy frame onto the bed
and tried to sing a last lullaby
but could do only tears,
a fragile goodbye.

I followed strong contractions into the night,
returning home with only fierce memory
of her tiny fingers and face.
But I’m forever marked by her essence,
often swept away by her melody
as it drifts across my heartstrings.
I recognize her song.

Thirty four Springs.
I honor each of her days.
Today I tenderly comfort the girl-in-me who carried her
before she was transplanted into the garden
that nurtured her to thriving
and remember those shimmery days when we were just us,
when she was still mine.

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Thank you for taking the time
to read my story.
It’s sweet comfort to share
what life tried to bury in shame.
I welcome the light.

Comments

  1. And the light shines brightly dear, precious Jennifer!

    Much grace, peace and love to you!

  2. And Jen, I want you to know your heart and life shines bright!

  3. You amaze me. You made something so incredibly hard and painful sound… dare I say… beautiful.?.?. I love, love, LOVE the last two lines.

    “It’s sweet comfort to share what life tried to bury in shame. I welcome the light.”

    Thank you for trusting us (your readers) with these words. I am so glad you find comfort in sharing here, as you should. You are so beautiful, your words equally so. I am so sorry for your pain and sorrow and imagine this is a bitter/sweet time of year for you. I also imagine since your baby girl is so full of you, she is out there somewhere loving the world and making it beautiful the same as you.

    Hugs, blessings and love coming your way.

    p.s. I absolutely adore Lilly of the Valley! I hardly ever see them anymore so opening this page provided an instant smile for me. Thank you for that.

  4. You are loved in more ways than you can know. For who you are, for the unselfish choices you make, for the creativity you share, for kind words and deeds, for what you share of yourself…and on and on and on it goes…!!…You are loved more than you can know!!

  5. thirty four springs..
    oh dear heart, even your counting is beautiful. and painful. and honest.

    all of it. all of you. all of her. into sweet light. only light.
    i hold you both in my prayer + that God would be your bridge, as your womb once was.
    bridge bridge bridge ~
    xoxoo, rachel

  6. Sweet Jen. I sit here shaking with love for you, for seventeen-year-old you, for your girl. I pray that your brave beautiful heart–the one that let you make the hard choice–the one who did her very best–the one who loved, then and now–that your heart will feel calm and comfort now. Love will carry you & Love will carry her. You are held. You are precious to me and to the One who made you both–and will sustain you both.

  7. Dear Jennifer, I remember your post about this time last year , it was so poignant. You had to suffer such a traumatic decision at such a tender age.
    How precious your little gift of life was to you then and is still today. What a good mother you would have been to that little girl if only the world was less judgemental then.

    I’m hoping that your heart will heal and that your memory will be less painful. I want to comfort you with love.
    Hugs,
    Julia

  8. ~ thank you ~

  9. Jen, you gave your baby the ultimate gift, and I have no doubt your essence still shimmers about her. She’s a special girl who has a mother like you. Thank you for sharing your story. That could so easily have been me.

  10. Me too, and everyone else welcome the light.

    Especially that at the end of the tunnel.

  11. Hurting for you, hurting with you.
    This is such a sad story. I hope that the time comes when she comes looking for you, and your shared pain is eased.
    And until she does – we realise and appreciate the magic that is you.

  12. Such a sad story, it almost makes me cry… I don’t know how it feels, I can only imagine. One day you will be able to see her again, that moment when you cross the bridge, I’m sure she will be waiting for you. Many warm hugs to you dear heart. <3

  13. You, brave and strong…I am inspired. You are such a sensitive and beautiful lady. You really are.

  14. I am moved to tears by your heartfelt story.

  15. that was a traumatic event in your early life…seems like you’ve done some awesome healing around it, altho i can only imagine that it stays with you your entire life. such an eloquent way to speak about it…through art!

  16. Dearheart, you share such painful memories with poetic mastery. I can practically feel your pain in my own heart. I’m so sorry for that loss.

  17. My dear friend…what a beautiful post…what a blessing you are to so many…and especically to that sweet baby you brought into the world so many years ago. I love you.

  18. Bittersweet words, worth repeating whenever necessary. I hope your writing helps you to purge your sadness for awhile, and to imagine the beauty of your child’s life now.

  19. you’re bravery and honesty has brought tears to my eyes. what a blessing you are….xo

  20. a tender story of sacrifice … I tearfully wrap my arms around you ….always

  21. Oh, my … just know you are loved.

  22. Jennifer, I very much remember your post about this time last year. I have never forgotten it. What a beautiful being you are by honouring and treasuring the daughter you gave birth to, in the way you have expressed here today. There’s no doubt that your love is reaching her wherever she may be. Your writing touches so many of us in so many different ways. This one has been profound to read. Much love. xo

  23. Beautiful words…beautiful soul…beautiful woman.
    ~Jane (Norton) Brocious

  24. For thirty four years you’ve honored all of her days. She is double blessed. You are honorable for giving her that. Blessings to you – what a moving story of love.

  25. You have truly honored her, Jen. Light indeed overcomes darkness. Love you.

  26. Oh dear, dear, dear…I’ve felt the longing and the parting and the grief in your words, and they are hard to shake off. I too feel for the girl who did what she had to do. There is beauty and light in your story, and I am sorry that you were given the most beautiful present ever without the possibility to keep it with you. But there remains the invisible bond of love; love is a blessing, even if it is not allowed to bloom as it would like to.
    xoxo

  27. You are my hero, today you are my hero! Such courage you faced and honored even at a tender young age. You nurtured that relationship with knowing the outcome would be a separation. The last attempt at a lullaby through the tears… your tender gentle heart still honoring the life inside of you. Sweet Jennifer… so much love, so much courage, and such bravery to share this with such tender and loving memories. Hugs to you and may you always recognize her song.

  28. My heart aches with you when I read of your pain. I pray for the day when your daughter comes to find you.

  29. You are so beautiful Jen! Your heart speaks so greatly through the words that you write. I have big tears in my eyes after feeling with you through your story. One day, if it’s meant to be, your daughter is going to see and know how much you truly love and think of her and how brave you were in giving her your loving best.
    It’s a beautiful song, her song, the one you sing for her.

    Love and Hugs,
    Lee Ann

  30. Jennifer thank you for sharing your light with us. It takes great unselfish love to give a child away so that she may have a better future. Blessings to you sweet friend.

  31. He tends His flock like a shepherd:
    He gathers them in His arms
    and carries them close to His heart;
    He gently leads those that have young. Isaiah 40:11

    May He carry you and your sweet girl close to His heart. The light is good, isn’t it? Thanks for reflecting it.

  32. Cousin Cathy says

    We were in the mountain when this was posted so I didn’t see it then so I went back and looked when I remember the month that you were most brave. It was a very unselfish thing you did to give away your daughter so she will have a wonderful life. You were so young when this happened and it made you a better person because of it. You were at a bad place and this brought you back to life. We never really talked about it with you and couldn’t imagine what a big chunk of you heart that was taken away from you.
    We just have to hope an pray that she has had a good and happy life for all of her 34 years. Peace and love to you always.

  33. Just seeing this, sweet Jennifer. You were young. With your deep truth, She shines with the currents of your life giving love. I feel your story like a mother would. Feeling the ache and the sacred space you hold for Her.

  34. This brought tears to my eyes. Such loss, such love. Wherever she is, may she know how much you still love her…

  35. Oh, dear Jennifer, what a grown up life you had to lead in those days of growing a child and then having to let her go. What a love and what a brave woman you were. Not a girl. A girl can’t make that decision. Thirty-four years is a long time. I hope that her home was wonderful — and that one day she is reading blogs and stumbles upon yours. That she thinks, “I wish that was the woman who gave me this gift of life.” You never know. Our world is strange and who can say. But I suspect she must indeed know that your love remains. And I suspect hers does, too.

  36. Lynn Wilkinson says

    An incredible OPEN your heart and sing out load comment against any shame that may still have a hand on you…. give it back to the disapproving eyes and the muffled sounds of others. You are beautiful and everything you’ve made and done only displays that beauty in the most unique way. You are wonderful and I am so inspired by your strength and honesty. You have given such hope and promise in your words please take back whatever you need to get through these days when your heart is open to “her” and your memories are about honoring shedding light.

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