December 2nd.

I was born at Kenndy Airport, on December 2nd, 1975.

I'm 42 years old... No, it's not a mistake, I was born at 9 years old.

It was my 2nd birth from my adoptive mother. The moment she saw me, she felt the same pain than any other woman giving birth.  It seems that other women have also felt the childbirth pain the moment they took their new babies in their arms.

I wonder how other adoptive parents talk about December 2nd, 1975. To speak of that day, my mother said "the day you arrived" or "the day we got you" but in practice, she spoke as if it was the day I was born. I had mixed feelings about that: knowing that she loved me as if she gave birth to me was a security and it made me feel good but at the same time, it made me feel uncomfortable. More I knew she loved me as her real child, more I was scared to be abandoned again.

I'm so lucky, I remember my birth and the following days after my birth as if it was yesterday. My next blog entry will be on those days...