Friday night I went to dinner with my birth mother. It was the first time we met. My partner came with us, as did one of her sons that she raised and two of her granddaughters (whom she is currently raising).
After dinner we sat up and talked until eleven-thirty. That's five and a half-hours of talking. I returned to the hotel the next morning bright and early. We had another five hours to talk before they had to leave.
It was an extremely short trip. Too short. Way too short.
It's hard to meet your birth mother for the first time and then have to say good-bye again less than twenty-four hours later. I've been moping about all weekend since she left.
But that aside, getting to see her, touch her, hug her... There aren't words. I feel like I should write something about it. But I don't know what to write. It was wonderful getting to meet her. And I wish we had had more time. Given how far apart we live, I don't know when I'll see her next.
At least I got some pictures of the two of us together. And I wouldn't have traded even that brief visit for anything in the world.
One thing I've never lost sight of... I know that I've been lucky. I suppose there will still be bumps and hiccups, but I know that this has gone very smoothly so far. And I couldn't be more grateful. I hope others can have as good a reunion experience as I've had so far.