MEDITATIONS ON MY MOTHER®
by CHRISTINE KOUBEK
TORN BETWEEN TWO
Mothers
It took years and the birth of my own child for me to completely
understand my feelings for my birth mother
illustrated by LESLIE WU
ometimes, before the birth of my son, I won-
Sdered if it would have been easier not to have
known the woman who brought me into this
world. While I never wanted to sever our bond, I
wished that our relationship wasn’t so complex—for
either of us. It wasn’t that we had unpleasant experiences or memories, though. In fact, I didn’t even meet
my birth mother until 1987, when I was 19.
It was Mother’s Day, and I was home from college
for the weekend. My mother—my adoptive mother,
Gail—handed me a letter that had arrived that day at
our house in Albany, New York. I thought it was from
a friend, until the pictures started falling out: a little
girl with painted fingernails, a dark-eyed woman
feeding wedding cake to a man, the same woman
with someone who looked like an older version of
herself, both smartly dressed in crisp black-and-white
suits. I was breathless as I stared at this stranger with
my own dark-brown eyes and auburn-streaked hair,
then read the letter: CON TINUED
