The boys showing off their new bags |
While it was good and happy most of the time, I will admit, I had a few breakdowns.
The first was at the beginning of the break when it became apparent that we would not be seeing Brit this holiday season. We were hopeful that it would work for her family to come over and let us give her the gifts we chose for her (and a couple for her siblings). However, the week of Christmas we finally got a note from them saying their schedule just didn't allow the time. It was very hard on both BF and me. We had both been very hopeful that it would work out. We had waited several weeks to see if our request for them to join us for a little time would be doable. Apparently it just didn't work for them.
So we mailed the gifts. Mailed them to their home, which happens to be about 7 miles from our home. It broke our hearts. ALOT. BF did a great job consoling me. It required holding me as I sobbed for hours until I finally fell asleep. Followed by a second day filled with tears at work.
But I had to move on. We have a house full of boys who are here with me now who needed me to pull it together. So I did.
Many happy memories were made before breakdown number two.
As we were getting ready to leave the house to head to BF's family Christmas, BF handed me the photo book that I had created for both of our mothers which included a year full of pictures of Brit. He said to me that we should probably wait until later to give it to his mom. So let's guess what that started?... Yep, the floodgates. He was right. The nieces and nephews at her house would be confused because they barely remember me being pregnant. And explaining who the baby was in the pictures would be complicated. Timing would be better later. BUT. That was all I needed to go into orbit.
I already missed Brit dearly that Christmas Eve, and suddenly I had a catalyst to start the tears. Again, BF wrapped his arms around me and told me he knows this is hard. I cried for a few minutes, walked around out in the cold, pulled myself together and headed over to his mom's. I also partook in a glass of wine which calmed my nerves enough that I could participate in holiday festivities.
Again, we enjoyed a nice Christmas Eve and when we woke up Christmas morning I did pretty well. Until after all the boys' stockings were unloaded and they all scattered to their rooms. As soon as they were out of sight, I found myself back in bed, curled up in a ball, crying softly into my pillow. BF came looking for me after a while and again, just held me until it passed. All I could think was that we were missing someone. Everything was not OK.
I am so glad that he realizes that there is no fixing this. Nothing he can say or do will make it better. My heart is missing a piece. It is gone and there is a painful hole there. Most of the time I can function covering the hole with being busy. But when family events happen, and we have all of our children together, I feel like there is a ghost child missing. And unfortunately I cannot call her, or see her to reassure myself that everything is OK.
I know that Brit is loved and well cared for. But I miss her and want to know her personally. We love her too. And I wish she knew us. I wish she knew her brothers.
Sunday night I woke up from a deep sleep because I was dreaming of Brit and I realized I have no idea what her voice sounds like. I couldn't go back to sleep with the nagging feeling of how I just needed to see her. To know her.
I know that how things are today are not necessarily how they will always be. That this distance between Brit's family and us may not always exist.
But living through this is really painful. And waiting is so very hard.
7 comments:
I am very sorry for the sadness that you felt during this holiday season. I remember mailing off a gift a couple years back to my daughter who I am reunited with and having the person at the post office looked confused as why I was mailing it even though the address was very close to me.
Nothing about this is okay, Lisa. My heart has been broken with your's this Christmas.
Know you're loved. Know you're cherished. Know you're prayed for.
Brit is, too.
Still praying for a miracle.
Linds
Lisa:
After reading several of your post, I can see you have a good heart. What I don't understand is why did you place your bchild in the first place? Between you and the bfather you have a total of five children, why couldn’t you both kept Brit? I don't mean to be harsh, but it will be the same question she will ask you both: why me? I keep trying to "wrap" my head around the scheme of things and it is very complicated. You and your bfriend are both working professionals who are parents already so why didn’t you keep your child and raise her? Also, maybe her parents are trying to shield her from the hurt of knowing that her bparents were fully capable of raising her but, for some unknown reasons, didn't want to. It must be very sad/hurtful to know this as one's birth story. And I can see a child being equally hurt by visits because it would be a reminder that they were the only one "placed" for adoption.
ETA:
Sorry for the typo I mean't "Keep" Brit
I asked her the same question months ago and she answered it quite nicely.
For us, it is our daughter's birth family that has not been willing to get together. We had a date on Christmas Eve morning and they cancelled . They live about 2 1/2 hours away.
But 7 miles! You should just bring the gifts over (when it is obvious that they are home) and only expect a couple of minutes on the porch for a visit. Or go caroling next year. Hopefully Brit would see you and then she would at least know you tried.
I was hoping that Brit's mother would soften up after giving birth.
I hope someday soon!
Pam
I'm sorry you're suffering as the result of the adoptive parents' insensitivity and selfishness. They misrepresented their intentions from the start. Sure, they were all sweetness and light when you had something they wanted but as soon as Britt was legally theirs they shut you out.
I find that despicable but all too common in so-called open adoptions.
I hope the adoptive parents read your blog. I hope they grow up and stop acting like two year olds who refuse to share because "It's MINE!"
I hope you find some measure of peace.
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