On May 25th 1963 a baby boy was born in Tacoma, Washington. The circumstances surrounding his birth are a total mystery. What I know is that a few months later he was adopted by a man and woman who raised him to love Jesus and to lean on His grace. He in turn taught me. My dad has 2 mothers, the one who gave him life and the one who watched him live it.
On April 12th 2007 a baby boy was born in Kenscoff, Haiti. The circumstances of surrounding his birth come together in bits and pieces. I have been blessed to sit for hours on end with a mother, father and grandmother who brought to life the hours of that day. The fear and rejoicing that came with his first cries, and the months beyond. The heartbreaking decision made when they realize that the care he needed required so much more than they could give. He is joy and energy and life. My brother has 2 mothers, the one who gave him life and the one who watches him live it.
On February 19th 2009 a baby boy was born in Carrefour, Haiti. The circumstance surrounding his birth are sketchy. He was born onto a dirt floor, I know that. Somehow he fought and he survived. His first months were full of the kind of pain I will never know. His empty belly cried, even when his voice was too weak to sound. One day, in a breath and a moment he came into my life and everything changed. I became a mother, he was my son and there was nothing I wouldn’t do for him. Years passed and complication and human error took their toll. Person after person failed him. His first mother made a choice that broke her heart, I made a choice that broke his. In all those broken hearts sat a baby boy. My son has a mother who gave him life, Me, who watched him live it for a while and, somewhere out there, one who will watch and encourage him forever. God has a plan, He knows who it will be…I will trust in Him at all times.
On November 15th 2011 a baby girl was born. Every single second of the day are etched into my memory forever. From the frantic trip to the hospital in the darkness of night to the sight of the sun rising on the horizon as I held my daughter and introduced her to the world, I remember every breath I took. She has brought me joy when I thought I would never smile again. She has saved me from myself. She has changed my life and the choice that her first mom made that day is one that has blessed me beyond imagination. My daughter has 2 mothers, one who gave her life and me, who gets to watch her live it.
There is nothing in my life that hasn’t been touched by the broken miracle that is adoption. Our family does not exist outside of this phenomenon that is to love a child born of another woman. It is messy and painful and redeeming and beautiful. It is every bit of the Gospel, living and breathing with the Buettner last name. Mother’s day in our family is so much more than flowers and brunch. It is the love that is alive between a mother and her child, no matter how that relationship came to be. It is honoring the women who brought forth those lives and the ones who foster them. It is thanking someone who carried our babies for us while God prepared our hearts to hold them. It is breathtaking, immeasurable acknowledgment of Grace and blessing. It is God’s plan, in the midst of something messy, to build something beautiful. It is our family, it is our lifeline. It is our legacy and it is His story.