My Entry for the Rhino Fiction Contest

Here is my entry for the Rhino Writing Contest #3

My son just came and met me at work. And, when I say “met me",  I mean he and I just met each other for the first time in about 20 years!

The last time I saw him, he was a baby. I had just delivered him. I remember his face so well. I still have the two photos of him -one of him in my arms, and one of just him. I had held him for a few hours and then he was taken from me. It had been my choice. Carry the baby to term and give him up for adoption. It seemed like the best decision at the time. I was so young at the time. But over the years, I came to the conclusion that if I could just go back in time, I would’ve changed my decision. But, enough of that. I met him. He came to see me. We had a great time! I am so happy – finally!

He reached out to me through the adoption agency. I always made sure to keep my contact info current – just in case one day…

I got an email from him last week. I was overjoyed and nervous. I was especially nervous today! But, as soon as he walked in the door of my office, I melted and remembered my place. I am his mother. He was nervous, too.

We both laughed at first when we saw each other –because we look very similar to each other and we were dressed almost the same!  Brown pants and black sweater.  He totally looks like me! It’s incredible.  And, there were things about him that seemed familiar. And, then, of course, he looked like his father. Boy, did he ever! He somehow carried both of us around with him, not even knowing who we were or what we looked like. After laughing at ourselves for a brief moment, I gave him the biggest, longest hug that I think I have ever given anyone.

We went out for lunch. We talked about everything. I knew he’d ask me what had happened and why I had given him up for adoption, so I just came out and told him. I had gotten pregnant with him when I was only 17 years old. The year before, I had left my family and joined the circus as a trapeze performer. I felt awkward and silly telling him this story. This crazy story that seemed like it was from some crazy movie or novel. But, it was my story, and little did he know – it was now part of HIS story. His father and I had met while performing together at the circus. We worked with each other for a couple years. We rehearsed everyday.  And, as is fairly common, we became very close, and intimate. But, we were both so young.

We had actually already split up when I had found out I was pregnant. Our circus had lost money and had disbanded a few months prior and we had both found new jobs with different circuses – no longer performing together.  So, after flying through the air and being literally caught by him thousands of times, I found myself falling emotionally, and he was not there to catch me.  The thought of raising a child alone, in the circus life, while being so young – just seemed impossible at the time.  So, I agreed to give him up for adoption.

I had reached out to my parents, looking for help, and my mother did help, under one condition – that I carry the baby to term and give him up for adoption. Sadly, I had found myself in a very precarious situation, at a very young age.  My mother was convinced that it was all because I had "run away and joined the circus."  I clung on to the feeling of freedom - flying the trapeze and falling in love - as still being a good choice that I didn't regret.  I only regretted that my love had fallen away from me.  I had to learn how to "fly" on my own.

My son took the whole story in. It’s quite the story! Flying trapeze mother, flying trapeze father, circus, teen pregnancy… It’s a lot to take in. But, he took it all, with a smile. I knew there would be some sort of thing he’d be looking for me to help settle for him. Something about “Was it worth it?” or “Did I have a good reason?” And, hopefully I was able to fill that void within him – even with this somewhat crazy story of the circus.

I found out all about him, too. He said he had always been fairly athletic and was into gymnastics as a child. He now knows why he was drawn to that – he’s got the circus in his blood.

He said he wants to meet his father. Gosh! I haven’t spoken to him in almost the same amount of time.  Edward… Edward…oh, what’s his last name again…? Shoot! It was always a difficult name to pronounce and remember. He was from Russia, and had a very Russian-sounding name. His name is in my house, on a hard drive, somewhere. How many computers ago - how many years ago - did he last email me? Well, I’ll have to do some digging.

I know it’s important for my son to know his father, too. But, how I wish I could just keep him to myself. If only I could go back in time, and keep him for myself and teach him to fly, with me.   

Note: although this is a fictional story, there are parts to it that I have directly pulled from several different real stories that have surfaced in my life.  I may do a separate post all about those REAL stories, because I think these stories of separation, adoption and reunion between family members is very important.

Thank you for hosting this contest, @carolkean!  So glad I stumbled up one of your reminder posts about it the other day!