Birth Parents

I know this is a touchy subject-one that I felt compelled to talk about. Michael and I share very different opinions on this matter. Michael rarely, if ever thinks about birth parents. I think he is not capable of having any empathy for someone who could in essence, discard their child without knowing if they ever gave them a second thought. Regardless of culture or by choice, our family was created through a combination of both. Grateful for being blessed with these children, regardless of how they came into our lives, he feels that WE are their parents-period. I on the other hand spend sleepless nights consumed by the thought that there are other people in our children's lives regardless of their physical presence. I cry for them. I ache for them. I do have empathy for them. I wonder what they are thinking when a birthday passes or when they think a milestone has been reached. DO THEY? The other night while putting the little girls to bed, Payton had a difficult time of settling down. She just needed a few more moments of cuddling of which I was all to eager to provide. After a few moments stroking her hair, she finally relaxed and feel asleep. I lay there staring at her, her face no longer tense, her eyes perfectly shut, and my mind immediately wondered to her birth mother. I feel guilty, for lack of a better word that her birth mother is not able to see her, feel her, know her. To know that she is safe, happy and healthy. That she has a family who loves her. Have I romanticized the idea of abandonment? YES! Emphatically yes. I do know that there is a chance that her abandonment was not as heart breaking as I envision it. I just try not to think about that part of it.