Bri is his birth mother.
We are his mothers.
When I share my story* with other people, they are often very curious and very interested, but if they are very honest (and some people are), they admit to me that they don't get it.
They admit to me that they couldn't do it.
"I couldn't share my child."
"You must be a very confident woman."
"I'm not sure I could be comfortable with that situation."
That situation means allowing my son to be loved by another woman as much as he is loved by me.
That situation means allowing him to be with people who aren't, technically my people.
I admit that when Isaac was first born, I had a few weeks of struggle. I didn't know how this game was supposed to be played, and I certainly didn't know hot to play it. I felt insecure in my role as Isaac's mother and had no idea how to be Isaac's mother while allowing someone else to be his mother too.
I'm not sure if it was through maturity or prayer or patience, but that confusing sea parted. And what I was left with was a love so intense for one little boy that I would do anything to help ensure his peace and happiness.
God calmed my spirit and spoke to me in as real a way as I have ever heard him: "This child is my child."
I realized that this child is not my child.
He is not Bri's child.
He is God's child.
I simply get the extreme pleasure and honor of loving and hugging and guiding and raising him for 18 years. And then I will send him out into the world to be a man with the hopes that I gave him everything he needs to fly on his own.
And part of preparing him for the world, is teaching him about who he is and why he is here. We believe that what is best for our little boy is for him to be loved by his birth family as much as his adopted family. We believe that exposing him to his roots will only help him.
I cannot tell you how many times ill-informed individuals ask us if we are worried that Bri will want him back. It doesn't work that way. He is legally our son. And that will never change.
But that doesn't mean that there isn't another woman who carried him in her womb and gave him life and asked us to be his parents.
To not acknowledge her existence would go against everything we believe for our son.
And so I gladly and with great excitement and confidence say: "We are his mothers."
Without sharing him, I wouldn't get to be his mom.
And so sharing him is well worth the unparalleled gift we were given.
I am Isaac's mother.
And I thank Bri any chance I can for that gift.
You can read more details about how Bri and our lives intersected, here: The story of Bri and me