Week two of life now that I know my birth son. The first week of this wonderful adventure has been akin to the euphoria one feels after giving birth to a newborn baby. This son is a newborn 35 year old to me. I find myself investigating his face to see whose eyes he has, whose nose, whose mouth, all of it. And on it goes. He'll be very lucky if his aunts don't make him take off his shoes so they can see whose feet he has. I do know he has his birth dad's dimples and a very nice combination of both of my brothers in the eyes and mouth and hair growth. He is a kind person, I can tell that and considerate. What a treat for a birth mom to find her son and share so many similarities with him. It is so easy to know him. I know now that even though we were separated physically, our souls were linked always. I feel at ease for the first time in 35 years.

I know that although I have all of these maternal feelings toward my son, he probably doesn't even want all that much mothering at this stage in his life, so I restrain myself from fussing over him and "smothering" him. I will just treasure the times we can have with each other as time goes by, and I am grateful that we are both young and healthy and have lots of time to spend enjoying our unique connection.

I also realize that I have an almost neurotic desire to know where he is from now on, because I don't want to lose him again. I've spent too long looking for him. I also know that I will always let him know where I am, because I don't want him to ever wonder where I am either. We both spent too much time looking for each other, to lose track of each other ever again.