Dear Birth Father,

You often get the shaft because I don’t talk about you often, especially compared to their Birth Mother.

I wonder, does that bother you?

I’m sorry – I don’t mean to minimize the importance of you in my daughters’ lives.

You see, it’s easier to talk about their birth mother when explaining this whole adoption thing. She carried them in her “tummy” and although they don’t yet know the details of how a baby gets from inside her to the outside world, they do understand she gave birth to them.

Let’s face it, it’s pretty black and white: Daughters, you came out of her, you are part of her.

I’m not sure how to make the connection between you and them until they learn The Facts of Life.

And I’m not ready yet to have that talk with them…

Another reason I don’t talk about you much: I don’t know you as well. In fact, we’ve only met a handful of times. And aside from only one of those times, I don’t think I was getting to know the Real You; I think I was talking to the This is Who I Want You to See.

I don’t blame you for that – it’s probably how you survived your dysfunctional family, the foster homes, and your years in prison.

My third reason: It’s difficult to initiate conversation when you don’t know the topic. When the girls ask me questions about you, most of the time I don’t know the answers.

I can tell them their birth mother’s favorite color is turquoise but for all I know, you’re color blind.

I wish I could pass on more information about the other half of them – the half you’ve contributed – but I can’t.

I’m sorry.

Perhaps someday you will meet them and tell them your favorite color. Perhaps I, too, will learn your favorite color.

I hope someday I get to know you, the Real You, and love you with the same complexity I love their birth mother.

But until that time comes, please know I hold you in my heart and honor your role in their lives as best I can.

Love,

Lynn