Amber is freakishly double-jointed by nature. I joke that it's her body's attempt to protect itself, because she's also spectacularly prone to falling down. The path her body manages to take between upright and flat on the ground makes Olympic divers' medal winning performances look simplistic.
With all this flexibility between us--learned or natural-born--you'd think we'd be skilled at bending and contorting ourselves into particular shapes. You'd think we'd be great at squeezing ourselves into small spaces. Turns out when that small space is a 4-page color glossy brochure, and the entirety of our lives and what makes us special is the thing we're trying to twist and mold into it, no amount of flexibility is enough.
But, that's what writing a so-called "Dear Birthmother" letter required. So, that's what we set out to do.
For those of you saying "A 'Dear Who' what?!," lemme just say, I'm with you on the mild confusion by and slight distaste for the very title. I mean, who says that? It feels a little presumptious, really. To refer to someone as the woman who will give birth to the child that will some day become ours--when we don't even know her, haven't even met her--feels strange.
And for her...maybe she hasn't even completely decided what to do yet. She's considering her options.
Or maybe not. Maybe she's already decided--like we have--that open adoption just feels right.
But either way, I imagine her sitting there, sifting through 4-page color glossy brochures, and suddenly--there we are--warm and smiling, staring up at her from the page. And she decides to look just a little closer, and learn just a little more about who we are.....
And so--without further ado--here they are.......the four glossy color pages that represent our very best attempt to show her, truly, who Michelle Pratt and Amber Amari really are:
x's&o's,
Michelle
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