My struggle

I haven't talked much about my adoption situation lately because I have been trying to process it.

You see, in November we found out that Brit's parents are expecting another child. 

Not only are they expecting, but they are far enough along to know that this child is another little boy. They didn't indicate to us when they are due, but from my experience with being pregnant that means they are at least half way through the pregnancy to be able to know the child's sex.

So doing the quick math, that means they will have 4 children ages 3 and younger when this newest addition is born.  Brit turns 3 in March, the twins are 15 months younger than her, and this latest child will likely be born in the next couple of months (if not sooner, we don't know).

Here is what is hard for me. 

When our daughter was 6 months old they actively pursued fertility treatments to get pregnant with the twins.  Our daughter was still an infant and they actively pursued fertility treatments to 'have a child of their own'.  This was not a surprise pregnancy like sometimes happens to families who have just adopted.  I completely understand surprise pregnancies.  I have had plenty of those in my lifetime.  This was actively pursuing pregnancy via fertility assistance with a newly adopted infant in your arms.

It is very hard for me to think that they were truly OK with being parents via adoption only.  The idea that they pursued fertility treatments so quickly after adopting blows my mind.

This most recent pregnancy was a surprise according to Brit's dad.  We know very little, because it was a one sentence announcement at the end of an email update. 

So our daughter will be growing up in a house that has 4 children who are all about the same age.  Our daughter will be the only one who does not look like them.  And let me tell you, she looks NOTHING like them.  She looks exactly like us.  We don't know much about her personality since we have only spent 4 hours total with her in the last two years.

She will be the only one of the 'quadruplets' who will be completely different.

The second part of this is probably going to sound bad.  But it's my blog and my thoughts.  They will now have 4 children with a father who is a teacher at a small school and a stay at home mom.  I can't help but think that will be a huge financial struggle.

We know.  We are raising 4 children of our own (plus a grown child who no longer lives in our home).  We know what it is like to have 4 children to feed, buy clothes for, enroll in sports, pay school fees, etc.  We are acutely aware how difficult that is.  And BF is an accountant/controller and I am a director of marketing.  We each make more individually than the father of our daughter.  Thankfully our children have a very charmed life where they need for nothing and barely want for anything either.  They all have their own bedrooms, gaming systems, personal electronic devices, are enrolled in competitive sports teams and basically have everything provided for them.  Thankfully they are very appreciative and seem grateful for the things they do have.  We are lucky to have 4 amazing boys who make us proud to be their parents.

So the child that we placed for adoption, so she could have a mom and dad who were married, will now grow up in a home where she is the only one who is different.  And it will be very apparent because all of her siblings are going to be just about her age.

It is so hard for me to process.

I pray about it alot.  And cry alot too.

I cannot forgive myself for what I have done to our daughter.  I placed her with a family who does not want an active and open relationship with us.  I placed her in a family where she will be the outsider.  All the while her birth family is still in tact, all growing up together.

She is not allowed to know who we are.  We don't even know if they speak our names to her.  She doesn't know us.

Even in the last email it was hard to swallow as we heard about how she met 'great uncle so and so' who was in town visiting and they had a great time getting to know each other over the holidays.  Yet, Brit has an entire family living 10 MINUTES from her, who she is not allowed interaction with.

We heard how she has play dates at friend's houses, yet she isn't allowed to play with her biological brothers.

It is so hard to understand how we are the only people that they actively KEEP Brit from knowing.

So I continue to try to process it all.  And I pray constantly that God will soften their hearts toward us and allow us to have an active and meaningful relationship with our daughter.  I want her to be able to know us, and to know how very much we love her and want to be a part of her life.

Buying a car and adoption

It's funny how when you are dealing with something, everything around you reminds you of your struggle.  Especially with grief.  When you lose someone you love even the air you breathe can remind you of them.  The trees whisper their name.  Dreams bring them to visit.

I find this so true of my adoption situation.  Nearly everything reminds me of the daughter that we do not have in our lives.

A glaring example has been the past two weeks.  I had to buy a new car.  Mine was finally at death's door and my mechanic told me he wouldn't work on it any more because I just needed to buy a new car.

So I did the car lots visits.  I researched online.  I drove several cars for several days.

The new car

Finally, this weekend, I purchased a new car.  Yes, a brand new car.  Something I have never had before in my life, because let'e be honest, who can really afford a new car?

But I did it anyway, because now that I live with BF I have no household expenses and I can afford a car payment.  So what is the problem with that?

The first thought in my mind was if I had Brit with us right now, the money I will be spending on a car payment would be what I would be paying for daycare.

The thought immediately made me resent the new car and the trade off that it represents in my life.

Little Princess playing in the playhouse
at the car dealership

And to top it off, when the kids got in the car after the soccer game on Sunday, BF's oldest son looked at Little Princess (the little girl I babysit every weekend) who I had buckled in her car seat, and said to her "Hi Brit!"  Then he caught himself and said "I mean Little Princess."

I could hardly breathe.

Apparently I am not the only one who thinks about Brit.

Working through it

Been working through the emotional fallout from last couple of weeks.

I did visit the doctor and got medication for the anxiety attacks.  Yesterday I had a string of them (3 before noon).  But as the day progressed, I did better, and didn't have another one at all.  Today I have been anxiety attack free, which is a thing of beauty.

I hope that as the medication increases in my system I will be able to better regulate how my body is processing the chronic stress and anxiety I feel every day.

I am so glad I have an amazing network of friends.  The understanding and concern is overwhelming.  Thank you to all of you who are praying for me and all who are involved in our adoption situation.  I would like to ask that you continue to pray.  Because we all know that prayer can change everything.

So because I need to focus on the things that I can influence and (somewhat) control, I am working on trying to spend less time thinking about what we don't have now, and focus on what I can do to be ready for a relationship in the future.

If Brit is not going to have a place in our lives for a while, then I will make sure we document what we are doing and how we think about her every single day, so that in the future she can know that we always wanted to know her and spend time with her.  Even from the beginning.

Today I had lunch with a friend of mine who has been such a great support to me over the past couple of years.  If you knew both of us, you would wonder how in the world we got to be friends at all.  He is 20 years my senior, a sports writer for a local newspaper, and on occasion he has been accused of being a bit gruff.  I know nothing of sports (except that I sit in the bleachers watching my kiddos), I am young enough to be his daughter and I have never met a stranger.

A strange couple we are.

As we parted from our lunch date, he kindly reminded me that at some point I have to figure out how to tolerate how things are now, because I simply cannot change the situation. (For the record, he is about the 500th person to tell me this.)  I know he is worried about the anxiety issues I am having, and like every good man, if he could fix it, he would.

Normally that kind of advice falls on deaf ears for me, because I am not OK with it.  But today, his fatherly words came on the heels of a quote I read this morning and when I relayed the quote to him as we stood in the parking lot, he looked at me and said "That is exactly right."

So I leave you with these words which I am repeating to myself today.  They have spoken to my heart.

Grief and anxiety attacks

Last night I had an episode while trying to get out the door to take D to football practice.  I looked over at the photo we have on our end table and saw Brit's smiling little face.

Just seeing her brought a flood of emotions so strong that it took my breath away.  My heart started pounding and I knew I was about to pass out.

Thankfully I made it to the couch and sat with my head nearly touching the floor between my knees.  I just blacked out for a minute, but the heart pounding lasted for a while.

D handled it very well.  He knows.  He watched the tears fall like a river and he was very compassionate.

Then I had another episode in the middle of the night last night.  It was just as bad as the daytime one (couldn't breathe, heart pounding) but fortunately I was already laying down. I cannot believe it woke me from a complete sleep.  Apparently the grief goes to my core.

Interestingly enough, I checked into blog world this morning and read this post by another birthmother.

It seems this feeling is universal.

I can only imagine what work will be like today.  I suppose I will just make sure I am near a chair, and a box of tissues.

I will be calling my doctor.  It appears it will be back on the anti-anxiety meds again.  Just great.

I love that my doctor and my OB both cry with me when we talk about this adoption situation.  They are amazingly compassionate and so very understanding.

So for now, I will self medicate with Diet Coke. (Yes, I know caffeine is not a friend of anxiety, but this girl has a vice that is hard to kick, the the soothing bubbles do calm my psyche.)

Just trying to remember to breathe

BF got a call from Brit's father yesterday.

BF asked him to respond to us in a letter because it felt it wasn't fair that he was only to him and not to both of us.

I have not stopped crying for the past 18 hours.

I have to remember to just breathe.

It strikes again

Today was another morning of waking very early unable to go back to sleep.

I walked outside in the dark for a while, then decided I needed to just go back home.

So I laid back down in bed and the tears just fell.  I spent an hour curled up in a fetal position just crying silently.

BF rolled over and held me.  Not a word was spoken.

My chest physically hurts from the pain of missing a child who is still living, but in a world that I have no access to.

This grief and regret will never go away, and I don't want it to.  Because I have nothing to replace the grief and loss with.  A child is missing. 

The Little Princess (and Little Princess guilt)

I have not been blogging for two reasons.  Number one, I have been crazy busy with work.  Thirteen hour days for a week.  Ridiculous busy.  Number two reason, I feel like I have nothing to offer on the adoption front.  I just can't think of any blog post that would be worth of the time it takes to write it.

If I was going to write about anything I think it would be the guilt I have been trying to suppress as it relates to caring for our Little Princess.  She is the little girl that I (we) keep every weekend while her mom works.  She is a little girl who was originally going to be adopted, but instead is being parented by her mother.  Her parents have a completely dysfunctional relationship (abuse, manipulation, etc) and her mother (who is a WONDERFUL woman and mother) felt like adoption would be the best choice for her child.  Turns out she just couldn't proceed with her adoption plan as her pregnancy progressed into the final months and she ended up choosing to parent instead.  She is now trying to parent two teenage boys and this little girl, from a position of poverty and survival in an abusive relationship.  Not ideal.

But this is not about her struggle but instead mine (could that sound any more selfish?...).

Anyway, caring for Little Princess is such a blessing to me.  Every day that we have her, I realize what great older brothers my sons are.  They are so amazing with her.  I also watch what a wonderful father figure BF is to her.  He plays with her, kisses her chubby cheeks, and plays peek-a-boo over and over again.  Little Princess snuggles with me and wants me to hold her.  She trusts me and nearly comes out of her skin excited when she sees me come to pick her up.  It warms my heart every single weekend.

So I suppose all of you who know me, even if it is just through the blog, know that this is a blessing wrapped  in pain.

I placed Brit because I wanted her to have a mommy and daddy who were married and who were ready to be parents.  I thought we were too old, had too many obligations already, and I thought Brit would suffer because of this.

And now look at us.

BF and I sit side by side and hold Little Princess on our lap and just laugh at her.  He and I have been her best example of 'married' parents for her entire life (she is now 19 months old - ironically born 9 months after we relinquished our sweet Brit).  BF and I are the only normal 'couple' in her life.  We are proud of her when she accomplishes something new.  We laugh when she learns a new trick.

I load Little Princess up every weekend and we head to ball games, sometimes out of town.  I take her with me to the grocery store.  I rock her when she is sick.  The boys play with her all the time.  They miss her and ask when she will be back.  She celebrates all of the holidays with us.  Our extended family assumes that if it is a weekend, Little Princess will be part of our family celebration.

We have boxes of baby toys, baby clothes and I carry a diaper bag.  My car has a carseat securely fastened in the back seat, even during the week when she is with her momma.

It appears a baby/toddler/little person would have fit into our life after all.

And let's not forget the irony of the fact that when I ran into Brit last weekend at the Farmer's Market, I was walking hand in hand with my Little Princess. She and Brit stared eye to eye with each other.  It was a surreal moment.  The little girl who I help parent looking straight into the eyes of the little girl who I should be parenting.

Something I remind myself is that at least Little Princess's momma was saved the birthmother grief and regret that I now suffer.  Because I can help her, this little girl is home every night with the momma whose tummy she grew in.  She sees her biological brothers every day.  She has her mommy's curls and will always know that they came from her mommy because she sees them as she lays her head on her momma's shoulder.

*Note:  The potential adoptive parents of Little Princess would have been and are great parents.  They ended up adopting a little boy soon after.  There is no doubt that Little Princess would have had exceptional familial support and ideal living arrangements had she been adopted. I know some will say that her life would have been better with adoptive parents.  I do not want to and will not debate this subject.*

I know God put Little Princess in my life for a reason.  Or maybe God put me in her momma's life for a reason.  Probably a whole lot of both.

Either way, Little Princess sure has alot of love.  Because of that, just her presence brings joy to a heart that sometimes has trouble finding joy among the grief.  And yet, her presence reminds me every day that there is a little girl just like her out there, a little girl who doesn't even know me.

So I think I will kiss Little Princess's cheeks a little more this weekend and maybe one of the sweet kisses will be felt by the little girl I wish I could snuggle and kiss too.

The friends who carry my heart

All of us who do it, know blogging is therapeutic.

After my post this morning, I had to run out the door to organize a concert at our local water park (I'm the marketing director for the park).

I walked out the door, ready to brave the heat and I put on my happy face.

Throughout the day my phone would buzz in my pocket and I would occasionally check it to see a preview of the emails that were coming in.

That heavy heart I woke to was gradually lifted with each word of encouragement that I received.  Comments on my blog.  Private messages.  Texts.  Many of which told me you were praying.

Thank you, thank you, thank you.

Sure, nothing has changed. But if there is anything good that I can say has come from this adoption grief that I muddle through, it has been the friendships I have been given by women who I would have never known otherwise.

My dear sweet friend on the east coast (you know who you are!), I am in awe of your faithful daily prayers for me, even though you have no connection to adoption at all.  Your heart is so good!

Adoptive mom friends who support me, pray for me, and sometimes just tell me how it SHOULD be different; I love each and every one of you.  You encourage me with your living, breathing open adoptions and I so appreciate the love you shower over me, even when I am not part of your 'family'. You keep me from becoming completely bitter, because through you, I see that not every adoption relationship is bad.  Some are really, really good.  And those relationships bring me joy.

Fellow birthmother friends, I appreciate the way you hold me up on days I cannot drag myself up.  Knowing that there is an entire community of 'us' out there who understand fully, is both unfortunate and sadly comforting. I am thankful for the camaraderie.  It is a sad sorority of ours (a term Susie Book once said to me), but at least we all understand.  Thank you for encouraging me and reminding me that I can make it through today, no matter how hard.  Because I see that you have, even when you didn't think you would some days.

And my dear sweet 'real life' friends who read and who may not comment on my blog but instead text, call or just stand next to me in my office while I cry, I am truly thankful for all of you.  You live this with me, and you still stick around anyway.

My heart may be heavy, but so many people help me carry it on the really bad days.

Thank you friends.

Just never quite right

It's interesting that by all outside indicators I am a perfectly well adjusted mom of alot of boys.  We go to sports (lots of them). I am very active in school district activities. I volunteer within my community and even teach Sunday School.  I have a job that is very visible in our small community. I have lived in this same community since I was in high school, so I know lots and lots of people. As you might guess, trips to the grocery store always take me hours because I stop and talk to all of my 'friends' who are also there.  Have I mentioned that I am also very social. :)

But then there is this side of me.  The side that you all see.  The deep grief, regret and longing for something different, something more.

This morning I could hardly get out of bed.  I felt paralyzed by grief.  I had that oppressive feeling of not being able to change one single thing to make it better.

All night I dreamed that I was having a baby.  Literally having the baby.  But I was NOT going to let this child go home with another family.  I knew better.  This child was staying with me.  I was its mother.

Then I woke up and the reality hit like a brick wall. No matter what I had just dreamed, there is no going back.  I cannot change what has happened.  And nothing is any better than when I went to bed.

I still have no interaction with my daughter's family (aside from the emails generated by them once a month). I have no visits to look forward to.

All I have is hope that things will change in the future.  Possibly as far away as when our daughter requests to know us.

The idea that I have to live with that every day kills me.  A slow painful death.  And even on my very best day, things are just never quite right.  We have a child missing.  And the tragedy is we chose it.

How could we have ever thought this would be a good idea?  I will never be the same.  And never quite right.

The grief remains

I have been very quiet the last week because I have been struggling so badly.  Tears are my constant companion.

I have so much I want to say and tell (nothing earth shattering, just heart wrenching).

Last night was night number two of talking with BF about why I cry.  I was trying to explain how I cannot just pretend that I believe everything will work out for the very best in our adoption relationship.  I know too much now.

He wants to believe that our daughter will never resent us for choosing to let her be parented by another family, and that her adoptive parents will suddenly one day realize that it is in her best interest for them to have a genuine, interactive relationship with us.  And that her childhood will be so happy that she will never feel like she is the adopted child (vs. her two twin siblings who are only 15 months her junior and biological children of her parents).

I think all of those things presume alot.  I want to believe every single one of them.  I really do.  And I plan to live like that.

I will use positive language.  I will be encouraging to my children when they are discouraged.  I will continue to reach out to Brit's parents with the hope that they will some day reciprocate.  I will do the right things, even when my heart is hurting.  (Which happens to be EVERY SINGE DAY)

But I will always know too much.

He has no understanding of how I can be so deeply wounded and full of grief and think that I can just keep living and say that I can enjoy a full life with the children I do parent today.  I explained to him over and over, that I now have no choice.

Grief is now a part of my inner being.  Loss will never be replaced, even with a relationship with Brit.  I made a decision that I deeply regret.  It has nothing to do with the parents we chose, but with the fact that I made the choice at all.

I know women who are completely satisfied with their role as a birthparent and their belief that they made the right choice for their child.  That very well may be true.  There are some birthparents who did give their child economic advantage, or stability that they would not have been able to provide.  But I am not that person.  I have both.  Brit would have had both.  Plus a relationship with her biological family.

Never once have I wished that my parents would have placed me for adoption because an adoptive family would have given me 'more'.  I had my family of birth.  We lived through tough times.  We were a family.

I was so hung up on the idea that a child HAD to have two married parents to have the best life.  I gave no value to idea that I could do it, and maybe someday she would have two married parents.  I was tired, pregnant and completely overwhelmed.  Not the best time to be making an irrevocable decision.  A decision that I did not know all of the ramifications of.

I could go on about this conversation, and I plan to explore it more one day.  But for right now, I think Laurie stated best in a comment on Susie's blog.   These are the words I couldn't seem to convey to BF last night.

(Laurie is speaking of her son who is now an adult.)


"Over the last two weeks, I have had this thought running through my mind. My adoption experience and his adoption experience are different. Yes, we both suffered a loss, but his life got filled up with time spent growing up, having his heart filled with love, experiencing things for the first time, becoming his own person. 


My adoption experience started when I was almost an adult. It was filled with loss and grief that I fully understood as a person with mature feelings. I had a hole in my soul that no one could fill and I could not let go of. I tried to fill it with the wrong things sometimes, I told him this, too. 

For me, the depth of my pain is directly correlated to the depth of my love for him." 

He gets it.

Today I realized that the only person who can fully understand my grief and pain is BF. And today when I needed him the most, he was there. He understood and without me even asking, he functioned for me.

I know that he is broken by this adoption relationship too. But he is a boy. And he does not express it all the time like I do. Yet, today when I called him after we received our monthly email, I realized that he is truly amazing. He made me feel so much better. Not because he tried to tell me it was all ok, but instead because he told me it is not ok.

Together we talked about how this relationship is broken in spite of our fervent efforts. We are not being treated thoughtfully.

He made no excuses for them. He did not try to justify it. He simply said out loud what my heart thought. And while it doesn't fix anything, it is so nice to know he feels the same way.

There is something comforting about having someone understand completely. BF is the only person who could love Brit the same way I do.  He is also the only other person who can feel the depth of loss that I do. His interest in this relationship is just as vested as mine.

While my heart is hurt by all we have been through and are living through now, I absolutely love this man who understands.

Friends through shared grief

This morning I pulled up one of my favorite blogs The Chronicles of Munchkinland which is written by another birthmother.  Jenna is real with her words.  She has a great open adoption relationship with her daughter and her daughter's adoptive mother.  Even so, she is like so many of us and often debilitated by grief.  I appreciate that she shares how her adoption relationship impacts not only her, but also her children and husband.

Today she was posting about her reaction to an episode of GL.E.E. Click here for the full blog post.

I don't watch the show, but I understand it is currently dealing with a teen birthmother who has been very erratic with her behavior about her child (another hot topic here in blogosphere).  You probably know the storyline better than me, so I will just leave it at that.

Jenna's comments today about this fictional birthmother resonated to my soul. Tears streamed down my face as I read them.  I would like to think these are not universal truths about all birthmothers, but I must say that from the ones I have interacted with, these statements are so very true.

In her post, Jenna is referring to the birthmother character in the show, and she says...

"Yes, she’s hurting. Yes, she’s a freaking mess. You don’t relinquish your child without some kind of freaking mess. The best of us are able to talk it out with unbiased counselors who have experience with birth parent grief and loss. The worst of us… they don’t make it. The ones in between, the majority of us, try to find ways to piece it all together, to make it work, to enjoy the good, to grieve the bad, to somehow make some sense of the hurt, the pain and the fear. Some of us hide the freaking mess better than others.

Sometimes even those who are masters of disguise fall apart in public sometimes when we’re poked or prodded or put on display as some kind of role model — for the good or the bad.

And I can assure you that not one of us wants to be a freaking mess.

I don’t enjoy the hole in my heart. I don’t like how, as her* birthday draws near (*note, her daughter), my first instinct is to hole up within myself, curl into a ball and hold very still until it all passes. I don’t wish this pain, this hurt, this emptiness on even my worst of enemies.

I understand those who lash out in anger. I understand those who put on the happy face. I understand those who turn to alcohol or drugs. I understand those who put on the ambivalent face of disinterest."

Jenna continues with the lament of my heart. She encapsulates the loneliness and longing that I have for someone to help me live through the pain of a child lost.

 "I understand that all of that comes back to the hurt, the ache and wanting someone, anyone — just one damn person — to understand how it feels. To ask you if you’re okay. To sit in silence with you as you stare at her picture on her birthday."

Her words cut to my soul.  She said out loud the things that my heart screams.

I am thankful that I have connected with a friend here in blog land that fits the bill as that person who understands.  I know I can call or text her on those dark days and she will not tell me that it will all be OK, because we know it is not OK.

I am one of the lucky few.  If you can consider it lucky at all.

And if you asked either one of us, we would both tell you that we wish that we never had this common reason to become friends.  We are over 1,000 miles apart, but bound at heart by a grief that thankfully few others can understand.

So in the spirit of thankfulness, I will say, I am thankful for my friend W's Birthmom.  And the other blog friends I have met here.

There are many of you.  Some birthmothers, some adoptive mothers.  Others are just people who have found my blog and prayed for my heart and encouraged me, simply because they were touched by my story.

But today, my heart is heavy for all of us who have relinquished a child and are now living with the consquences of that decision. I wish I could sit in silence next to each one of you as we all hold the pictures of our children and we greive their loss.

Dear Brit, I'm sorry.

Dearest Brit,

It is the holiday season again. Thanksgiving just past, Christmas looming around the corner and Halloween is a not-so-distant memory.  It is a great time of year to be a kid.

Last year at this time, I was pretty much a mess.  I haven't gone back to look at my posts from that time, but I know for a fact that tears were my mainstay.  I missed you so much and wanted you with us so badly.

I must say, not much of that has changed.  I cry less (just because I think my tear supply is permanently diminished).  But the the longing for you is the same.

While it might seem silly, Halloween was hard this year.  There were a few reasons why, but one at the top of the list was because we didn't get to see you all dressed up.  We had all the boys, in costume and together.  But you were missing.

I know your parents took you out and you had a blast.  They told us about it about a month later when we got our monthly update about you.  But for weeks preceding, your (birth)father and I talked about what we thought you might be dressed up as and how you would like walking around getting candy. And the night of Halloween we sure thought about you and wondered how it was going.

This weekend when we were celebrating Thanksgiving, I found that while I have so much to be thankful for, my thoughts always come right back to you and how I wish you were here with us.



Your brothers D and LanMan - your cousin A also at the table.
If you look closely your (birth)father is in the background.

 I wanted you to be making gingerbread houses with your brothers at Nana's house. 

LanMan with your cousin B

I wanted you to be running around with your cousin who is 2 weeks younger than you.  I wanted to hear the two of you talking to each other in that language that toddlers speak to each other while playing with toys. 


I wanted to hold you on my lap while you napped from shear exhaustion from all of the busyness of the day.

Instead of that, when we took pictures, you were missing.  You didn't get to sit at the table with us.  You weren't rolling around on the floor playing with your brothers.  We weren't passing you around from aunt to aunt, oogling over how positively adorable you are.

Me and all my sisters (your aunts) and my mom (your gma)

Thankfully our family doesn't pretend like you don't exist, just because you aren't here.  We all love you so much.  We talk about you and what your parents have told us you are doing now.  We look at your pictures.  We speculate about what it is like to hear your voice.  We talk about how very cute you are and how you look like us.  And of course, all of your aunts ask time and again when I think we might be able to see you.

I sure hope that my counselor is right when she says that the way things are right now is not necessarily how they will be forever.  I don't know if I can bear the thought of not having a relationship with you for much longer.  And you are only 20 months old!

I am glad you have great parents who adopted you.  I know they take very good care of you and that you are happy.  For that, I suppose I am thankful.

But I won't pretend that I don't want a do-over when it comes to choosing to let you be raised in a different family.  The problem is, there are no do-overs with adoption.  We chose that path for you and now we are all living the consequences.  Thankfully your consequences are unnoticeable right now.  You are young and happy.  We are the only ones visibly grieved by your loss.  I do know that this will not always be the case.  As time goes on, you will be the one who is conflicted and forced to deal with all of the issues that are inherent to those who are adopted.

I would guess that someday you are going to wonder how we felt about our decision to place you with another family. I hope that you know that just because we chose adoption when we did, it does not mean we ever stopped loving you or that we didn't think about you all day, every day.

We all miss you.  Every one of us.  Adoption has not just changed me, but it has changed all of us.  Your (birth) father, your brothers, your grandparents, our extended families and even our closest friends.  We miss you.  We wish you were here with us, part of the family you were born into.

But you are not with us.  You don't get to share in the family get-togethers.  And it is our own fault.  We did what we thought was best for you at the time.  Unfortunately we didn't realize the consequences of that decision.  We were wrong.  We could have and should have raised you.  But we can't fix it now. 

What we can do is be ready and available for the moment when we are allow a little access to you by your parents.  And we hope and pray that once you are capable of having a say in it, that you will want to have a relationship with us too.

Now to be clear.  This has little or nothing to do with your adoptive parents.  They are so good to you.  They love you and care for you just exactly how we wanted you to be loved by two married parents.  They are excellent parents as far as we can tell (and we believe it to be so).  All that I am saying is that I wish you would have stayed with us.  Even if it was hard.  Even if we weren't married and you had to be shuttled between two homes.  In hindsight, that is nothing compared to the complication we have created by choosing a completely different family to raise you.

Me and your (birth)father at Jessica's wedding

So please know my dear, sweet Brit, we have loved you every single day.  If we could, we would rewind and make alot of different decisions.  The greatest of those being never letting you go.  I am so sorry that this is your reality now and that we are the ones responsible for it.  We are going to do everything in our limited power to make this adoption story turn out the very best it can.  We want only the best for you.

I hope that we are so available to you that you never wonder about our love and commitment to you.  I hope that you are allowed time with our family so you can know first hand all of your family and how much we all love you.  If there is any way to make this adoption story happy for you, we will do whatever it takes.

We love you dear Brit.  More than can ever be put to words.

Love,

Your first mother

P.S.  On a single happy note, I got more Christmas gifts for you last night.  Your (birth)father and I have already been shopping for you for several weeks (he actually bought your first present without me around!).  We finally figured out what gift to get you this past weekend and last night I found exactly what we were looking for.  When I bought it, I immediately went over to his house and had to show it off.  We can't wait for you to get it.  Maybe we will even get to see you open it, maybe...

Still here

I have had a month or so of complete craziness.  Re-entering the dating world.  End of summer activities with the kids.  Beginning of school activities with the kids.  Sports.  Hernia surgery for a child.  An impulsive trip to Nashville for a date with a new suitor.  The usual work load.

All added up, it just has taken my time and attention.  And blog world doesn't rank on the priority list.

It is very interesting to me how dating has impacted my feelings about adoption.  Some of it for the good.  It definitely has served as a distraction from constant adoption obsessing, just because it has taken my time.

Now that I am no longer together with Brit's father, I can at least justify the 'it would have been hard having a child who shuttles between two houses' thought, which is immediately followed by the 'but my other 3 kids live like that and seem to do just fine'. 

Truthfully Brit's father is one of my best friends even today.  If I was going to share parenting with anyone, I would want it to be him.  So that really doesn't help ease my regret much.

But I do appreciate how much easier it is to date and enjoy time with friends when you don't have an 18 month old child at home.  Which is immediately followed by the thought that I would rather have my 18 month old angel at home with me than go out.

Thankfully everyone of the men I have gone out with have known me prior to our first date.  Two were friends of several years, and the newest dating interest is someone who I told immediately when we met, just because I never thought he and I would ever have a dating relationship so I didn't have any perceived risk telling him. 

I am thankful that our relationship started that way, because he is the only one I have continued a dating relationship with (albeit long distance), so he is the one who would be more likely to have to deal with the long term ramifications of my adoption grief.  He was also the same guy who immediately asked if I could get Brit back.  Interesting.

But this last week I have really had some tests to my fortitude.  Serious tests.

Yesterday was exceptionally hard.  I am dealing with a very serious personal issue that has me tormented. Life changing torment.

But during this dark time, I have been so thankful for a dear blog friend I have met out here.  She was someone I could call and be safe telling my deep dark secrets to.  No judgement.  And complete understanding of how this life crisis impacts my feelings as a birthmother.  Because she is one of US.  She is part of the birthmom sorority.

And interestingly enough, I also was able to tell the 'new guy'.  Understand, this is the kind of secret you DON'T tell the new guy.  It's the kind of secret you keep from the new guy at all costs.  But he asked, and I spilled.

And just like his reaction to Brit, his reaction to my secret was very interesting.  He offered to be a solution.  Even though he wasn't part of the problem.

His response gave me a huge wave of relief.

When I was with my counselor last night, she looked at me and said "You told him that!?!"  I said yes, he asked, so I told him.

She was shocked.  Honestly, I still am too.

But it is what it is.  And his reaction is the reason I am able to breathe today.  In addition to the wisdom that the counselor gave me about taking one day at a time and not telling another soul until we can come up with some solutions.  Between those two thoughts, I feel like I have bought myself some time.

So me and my team of confidants are working through this.  My dear blog friend, the new long distance romance man, the counselor and me.

I will take one day at a time.  Appreciating the moments that make me laugh and loving the kids I have with me right now.

On a related note, another dream last night.  In the dream BF called Brit's father and asked if we could see her over this long holiday weekend.  He kindly told BF that they were not comfortable with a relationship like that with us.

In the dream, I left and walked miles in the rain.  BF stayed at a party and watched me walk away.  We were both grief stricken, but it was interesting the difference in our reactions. 

Mind you, BF would never go to a party and drown his grief in beer in real life, but he would go on as if nothing had happened.  I, on the other hand, would do just what I did in the dream.  I punished myself by walking and crying in the rain, feeling all alone.

Dreams are very interesting aren't they.

I did send BF an email this morning and told him the dream.  He consoled me electronically.  And he told me that he is going to try to call Brit's dad and see if they can find a time to go out with each other and have a drink and chat.  He thinks if he and Brit's dad can sit down face to face, maybe he can have a heart to heart talk with him about how much we would like to have a more open relationship with them with regard to more regular visits with Brit.  Oh how I hope it works.

So there you have it. 

Random heartbreak from LisaAnne.

Yet, I still have so much to be thankful for.

I am such a conflicted person.  I must be a girl. :)

I can still be happy

One of the hardest things in the beginning of being a birthmom was allowing myself to be happy.  I didn't want to be happy.  I didn't want to feel better.  I wanted to wallow in grief and never come out.

Now 16 months after Brit was born, I am finally feeling like I can allow myself some moments of joy.  I can do things and not immediately remember that I am a birthmother.  Now the moments are fleeting, but at least I am having them.

Of course I never ever forget about Brit, just like I don't forget about my parented children.  But little by little I am allowing myself to move forward with my life, in spite of the pain.

I had a first date last night and had a wonderful evening.  Thankfully he is someone I have known casually for a couple of years and he knows my story.  Maybe not in its entirety, but he knows I had a child last year and he knows she was adopted.

So I didn't feel like I had to hide anything.  Which in itself is freeing.

I cannot fathom what it will be like if I ever date a stranger.  How will I ever explain my sweet Brit?  I would want it to be known right up front, but I also don't want it to be the only defining part of me. (Even though it consumes me.)

I need to think about how I will handle that in the future, now that her BF and I are no longer a couple and I do plan to date.

This post may not be for you

This will not be a adoption triad sensitive post.  I can sense it already.  So if you are someone who reads my blog because you are friends with Brit's parents, just go ahead and stop right now.  If you are an adoptive parent who doesn't want to know about birthparent grief, this post is not for you either. 

If you feel the need to post something mean spirited toward me after you read this, please don't.  I have plenty of self-loathing to go around so I don't need anyone else to send any more hatred my way.  I have that covered all by myself.

This is going to be a pouring out of my heart that is not meant to hurt anyone, but is a vent for my anguish.  It is not meant to blame, but it may come off that way.  I am sorry in advance if it does, but this is my blog.  And my heart hurts.

I have just a few minutes until I leave for a meeting but I have something weighing so heavily on my heart, I have to type it out.

Brit's parents are having twins.  Due this summer.  A boy and a girl.

I also have a friend who has a set of twins, also boy and girl, who were born at a similar time of year.  Therefore, my friend has matching outfits that would be great for Brit's brother and sister. So, like I would do for any other friend, I went to my friend's garage sale a couple of weeks ago and bought a few matching outfits so I could give them to Brit's family for the new babies.

When I got the most recent monthly email from Brit's mom, I replied back that if they were ever out and about I had several outfits I would love to get to them for the twins.  She emailed me back and said her husband keeps saying he needs to stop by where I work so maybe the next time he is here he can pick up the clothes.  She thanked me for thinking of them and said they would definitlely be welcomed as she knows they will need so many things having twins.

So I brought the bag of the clothes to work.  I have had the bag sitting outside my office door with Brit's dad's name on it all week.

I decided today that I am going to have to move it.  It is hurting my heart to see it sit there.

I live 10 minutes from Brit and her family.  I could run it over to their house in a heartbeat.  But I can't because I am not a part of their life. 

They have friends who can stop by and see Brit.  But I can not.

Brit's neighbors know what Brit looks like and how she plays outside.  My kids do not. They are not allowed to see their biological sister.  They are not allowed a relationship with her.

When we had Christmas gifts for Brit, my BF met Brit's father at a sports bar - 5 minutes from both of our homes, so we could give the gifts to him to take home to Brit.  I wasn't even invited to be part of the exchange.

Why don't I have adoptive parents like so many of you?  I read adoptive parent's posts and articles about how they wish they lived closer to their child's birthfamily so they could get together.

I live 10 minutes from them.  10 minutes.  It might as well be 1,000 miles.

We chose these parents because we wanted our daughter to grow up in the same community as our boys, so they would have similar childhood experiences.

We wanted them to be close so we could share in her life.

Instead, I am tormented as I look down every aisle at the grocery store, hoping and praying that I could catch a glimpse of them shopping there at the same time.

I know my boundaries.  I know when I am not welcome.  I am a civilized, professional, adult mother of many children myself.  I am not going to interject myself into their lives unwelcomed.

I do not drive by their house.  I never ever call them.  I send cards on holidays, which I believe to be an appropriate time to do so.

But I want to be a part of their lives.  I want to be welcomed.

I have never received a card from them.  Not on my birthday, not on mother's day.  Not ever.

The same mother who text messaged and called me when I was pregnant has never once sent me a text or called me since the day they took my daughter home with them.  While I am very grateful for the monthly email with pictures (and I pray they never stop them), it does not replace sincere interaction.  Monthly reporting is not the same as conversation.

I shared everything with them when I was pregnant.  Pictures, stories, even the entire birth of their daughter.  I wanted them to know me, my kids and my life.  I wanted them to know that they were now a part of my family.

What I didn't realize was that everything was going to change once Brit went home with them.

I know my daughter is loved by them.  I know she is happy.  They have never once said anything unkind to me directly.

But if I would have known then what I know now, I would not have made the decision I did.

I pray that my daughter will want to know me and us.  I pray that she is just like me and she begs her parents to let her see us.  I hope she wants to talk to me as badly as I want to talk to her.

I guess that is what I have to do.  Pray that the child will change their hearts, if nothing else does.

I hate this.

So much for making it to my meeting.  My eyes are nearly swollen shut.  Looks like I'm stuck at my desk for the rest of the day.

It is amazing how one decision has changed me from the happy go lucky girl I once was, to a shell of a person just trying to keep it all together.

There will come a day

I had a counseling appointment yesterday.  There is hardly enough time to unload all that I carry in an hour long session.

Ultimately, the words of wisdom that she shared with me were,

"Grief takes as long as it takes.  There will come a day that this will not hurt as badly as it does today."

I know.  So I will live through today and wait for someday. 

I just need to make sure I don't miss the joy that does exist here and now.  Because I have learned that someday could be a long time waiting.  And life is happening right now.

Joy for today:

• 3 healthy sons
• a surprise Easter basket for me and the boys left at my house by a friend
• school zoo trip tomorrow with L
• dinner tomorrow night with a friend and his kids
• it's pay day
• a friend from church who just ended her phone conversation with me by saying "you're awesome!"

1 Peter 1:6-7 (New Living Translation)
So be truly glad. There is wonderful joy ahead, even though you have to endure many trials for a little while. 

These trials will show that your faith is genuine. It is being tested as fire tests and purifies gold—though your faith is far more precious than mere gold.

So when your faith remains strong through many trials, it will bring you much praise and glory and honor on the day when Jesus Christ is revealed to the whole world.

Giving it to God

I have two draft posts that I have not finished. My birthmother world has been painful once again.  I have tried to blog, but there is too much to say.

And it is painful.  Painful to the point of shutting down.  Completely.  I found myself thinking that I just have to let go of the "birthmom" role for right now.  Otherwise I might go completely crazy. (Or crazier, depending on who you talk to.)

The story is complicated on two levels.  My relationship with Brit's parents and my relationship with Brit's birthfather (BF).

Today I only have the energy to address the relationship with the parents.

Brit's parents found the blog. 

I had a suspicion in the back of my mind because I have the FeedJit tracker on my blog and I saw a local inquiry from the town that one of them works in.  I knew that something had to be up with that.  I was not worried and was quite honestly perfectly OK with it.  I believe in being honest, and that is what this blog is.

All of my usual blog visitors are adoption triad members from all over the country, but none are local to me. I have one sister who knows about the blog and just the other day I finally told my mom.  I had told BF about the blog a month or two ago, but he has never visited it.  He chooses not to deal with anything that might cause him to feel uncomfortable, so I am not surprised that he had no interest in reading it. (That issue is a post for later.)

After Brit's parents found the blog, they decided to call me and BF to set up a time where we could all sit down and talk about it.  We each got a separate call and between the 4 of us found a time that would work.

We met last weekend at a restaurant.  Just the four of us. We had good, casual conversation throughout dinner.  Then after we were done eating we addressed the white elephant that was in the room.

I am not great about remembering exact words.  But to generalize the conversation...

The blog was painful for them because they read it through the lens of being the parents who are referenced here.  And while the things that I have said about them were not upsetting to them (or not that they mentioned), they were hurt by some of the comments of others.  I think that they felt unfairly portrayed because their thoughts and actions are only presented from my viewpoint.  But they understood completely why I blog, and they realize that this blog was to be therapeutic for me, and not to be viewed by them.

We talked and it became apparent that we are on two very separate wave lengths in regard to openness in our adoption. 

It was clear that their family and friends are not supportive of them having continued contact with us.  So the contact they do have with us, they feel is adequate and it meets what they believed our relationship would be.  They feel like they have to defend continuing a relationship with us. I get the impression that is uncomfortable for them.

We addressed how I have felt abandoned by Brit's mom because she no longer interacts with me like she did during my pregnancy.  Brit's mom explained that she had to pull away from me when they brought Brit home because she needed to feel like Brit was her child and not mine.  And she thought that continued contact with me would keep her from being able to bond because all she would focus on was my grief from relinquishment.

They mentioned that I routinely address what I want for openness in our adoption here on this blog.  I give examples of beautiful open adoption relationships and how beneficial they are for everyone involved. 

Their feeling is that for every very open adoption relationship that exists, there is a case to be made for semi-open adoption and how it is beneficial for adoptive parents and the child.  It was at this point that I realized that we view open adoptions very differently.

Brit's mom said something that cut me to the core even though she thought what she was saying was nice (and I know it was intended that way).  She said that after our first visit with Brit she went back home and said to the dad, "that was nice, we should try to do that once a year".

There are two reasons that was extremely hurtful to me. The first being, I desperately want more that one visit with Brit per year.  It would be so very easy for us to have more visits since we live about 15 minutes from them. 

The second reason that statement hurt, was because I heard those words in my mind as "I think it would be really nice of us if we allow BF and Lisa see Brit once a year."  As if it was a privilege that we are being granted by them.

Now I need to stop and say, I know that is only my perception and not at all what she said.  I was, and still am, very hyper sensitive about this topic.  I want more visits, and it was clear that they would be fine with few if any.  So what she said was completely misconstrued in my head.  But how I felt is how I felt.

So when I say that I felt like I was an undeserving recipient of a privilege they were granting me, that is not fair to Brit's parents, because they certainly didn't say that.  I just felt that way.  Please no hateful comments about how I twisted her words.

And while on that topic.  I need to be clear about how the parents treat us and the things that they say.  Both mom and dad are always very clear that they appreciate that we have entrusted our child to them.  They repeatedly mention that they will be forever thankful for that, and that they pray for us regularly.

Never have I been treated disrespectfully.  Nor have they uttered an unkind word to me.

Now, back to the dinner.

I tried my very best (through tears) to describe how I would like to see our relationship.  I clearly stated that I have no expectation of monthly visits.  Nor do I need to have a rigid visit schedule.  But what I do want is to feel like we are a family friend.  I don't just want a relationship with Brit.  I want a relationship with all of them.  Even the two new babies.  They are all important to me.

I explained how when this adoption happened, they became a part of my extended family, whether they knew it or not. 

My family brings people into our fold very easily.  No relation required.  We love and include all kinds of people as if they are family.  For example, my ex-husband's first wife became a close friend of mine.  She is now considered one of my sisters.  When we do Christmas gift exchanges, she is one of the girls.  I love that.  Every holiday event we have, there is always someone who is not a blood or marriage relative in attendance.  My sisters, mom, me and our children all love easily and quickly.  We will bring anyone in with us.

So with that kind of personality and history, when Brit's mom and I got to know each other during my pregnancy, I am sure I just assumed she was coming into the fold.  That was never their intention.  That is not how their family works, so that is unusual for them.  Completely fair.  I can see where my expectations about this were unrealistic.

I explained to them that my sister had just asked me the other day if she could invite them to her son's first birthday party because my nephew is just two weeks younger than Brit so we were all pregnant together.  My sister thought it would be fun to have them join us with Brit.

That would be a completely normal occurrence for my family.  So while most families would find that odd, it would be wonderful to us.  We love freely and include everyone.

In explaining my ideal relationship with them, I told Brit's parents that I especially want to be the mom's friend.  I want her to feel comfortable enough that she would call me and just chat.  Or comfortable enough that I could give her a call or text and it wouldn't be a big deal.

I told them that I don't even expect monthly emails.  Instead, I wish that when something adorable happens she would include me in any email or text that she might send to her own family.

This is another area where we realized that we are very different. 

I am an over-communicator.  Nothing is off limits.  I am not private.  My world is an open book.  I have 1,250 Facebook friends.  Everyone in town knows my business because I am in PR, sit on a multitude of committees, live and work in this same small town I have lived in since high school.  I give lots of public presentations. I love public speaking and everyone knows it.  I write often and easily.  So I send lots of emails and I include tons of information.  My life is on the go at every sporting event in town, chasing my boys who are very athletically gifted.  I know lots of people.

Brit's parents are more private.  They are most comfortable at home.  They don't call many people.  Brit's mom told me that I receive more pictures of Brit than most of her family members.  They have a few close friends.  They like it like that.

To try to describe the type of relationship I hope we someday have, I gave the example that if they were taking Brit and the babies to the zoo one day, I would love it if they called and asked if we wanted to join them.  Something completely casual and easy.

Brit's mom said she had never considered a relationship like that before.

I also let them know that we have 5 boys who are desperate to meet Brit.  They ask us all the time when they will get to see her.  I told them that I would really like for them to have the mystery removed and let them have a relationship with her so they can have peace with the fact that they have a sister who lives somewhere else with a different set of parents.

BF did chime in often during this conversation and the one thing that he said that I completely agree with, (but for reasons other than why he believes it), "It doesn't matter what other people's adoption relationships look like, we want to do what is right for OUR relationship." 

I also give him great credit for repeatedly telling the parents that we believe they are wonderful parents to Brit, and we are glad they are the parents we didn't think we could be.  We both were very clear with them that we love them, even though we are working through these painful relationship issues.

By the time we got to the end of the conversation, they said they would go home and think and pray about what we had talked about.  Which was a huge blessing to me.  I am so grateful that they are willing to at least consider something more.  So many birthmoms would do anything to have adoptive parents say that to them.  I know I am lucky.

We were all completely spent by the time the conversation ended.  The intensity of what was said was hard for me, so I am sure that it had to be very difficult for them since I am used to candid, even painful conversations and they are much more reserved.

I think the things that are hardest for me to process from this meeting are:

• We have very different ideas about what our adoption relationship should look like.  Brit's parents believe they are honoring what they said we agreed to, which was regular emails.  I don't recall that as a conversation, but I won't argue it.  I was pregnant and who knows what I thought or said.  I do however remember mentioning a summer get together with them, Brit and my family and they never objected.  I also recall us specifically stating that we were going to evaluate our relationship as we went along because none of us knew how this would work.
• Their family and friends are not supportive of an open adoption, which will make this even harder for them.
• The things that make them most comfortable and me most comfortable are very different.  They intend to always tell Brit that she is adopted, but not necessarily to make a relationship with us a priority.  I want Brit to always know us so she has the least impact from being adopted as possible.
• BF wants the same type of openness in our relationship with Brit's parents, but he just wants it to happen.  He is perfectly fine just waiting to see if it does.  I want all of us to be deliberate.
• Things changed.  For all of us.  I need more connection to them than I am getting.  They don't.  We are at a point of re-negotiation of our relationship.  And what I believe is best for Brit, is not necessarily what they believe.  Since they are her parents, they get to decide.  I feel like I have to plead my case.
• Compromise will be difficult for all of us.  We are all having to consider that our relationship with each other may be different than what we want individually.  All of us will experience some level of being uncomfortable.

To be painfully honest, I am jealous.  I want the kind of relationship that so many of you have.  I want Brit's parents to think about a relationship with me/us as an important part of her well-being like so many of you moms do with your birth families.

I cry when I read the posts from many of you who are worried about why your birthmoms are pulling away.  It makes me want to scream and say, "I would be that birthmom you want for your child, I want that too!".

When I read many of your hopeful adoption blogs, I feel your incredible waiting pain.  Mine is completely different, because I am on the other side.  But the wait is brutal.  We all want something that we don't currently have.  It hurts so badly.

I get comments from time to time that remind me to consider how hard this is for the adoptive parents.  My blog is very birthmother focused and not very adoptive parent focused. 

To my defense, I am a birthmom.  I see and feel through the experiences of a mother who relinquished a child for adoption.  That is the only experience I have, and I am living it.  I am not on the other side.  I am knee deep in grief.

As a birthmother I think about how all of this would have been so much easier if I would have just chosen to parent in spite of my circumstances.

And if I had to guess, I would think my thoughts are similar to those of adoptive parents when they think this would be so much easier if this child was biologically theirs and they didn't have to deal with all of the complicated emotions and situations that adoption presents for everyone, including the child.

I even have the same terrible thoughts when I walk past teen moms who are single and living in extraordinary poverty, still parenting a child.  I completely get what couples who are experiencing infertility must feel when they see the same situations.

I think, I have financial stability, a career, parenting experience and yet, I chose not to raise my own child.  And look at her!  She has none of those things and she kept her baby.  It's not fair.  I have extreme pain because I miss my child so much it makes my heart literally ache.  And I did this to myself and to my daughter just because I wanted perfect for her.  Was having two married parents really that important?

And I know what infertile couples battle when they see the same thing.  It is the same repugnant thoughts, but very much similar to mine.  Why was she blessed with a child when we weren't?  We possess everything a child could want or need, why is this so unfair?

We are all human.  Adoption brings out both the best and worst in all of us.

I am encouraged by many of your blogs as you talk about refocusing your thoughts and desires to those that would be pleasing to God.  That was the final revelation I came to after the conversation. 

This is not something that I can or should control.  I shouldn't try to change it on my own power.  My focus is entirely selfish.  God is not pleased with those thoughts.  I need to marinade in the same verse many of you take solace in.

Jeremiah 29-11-14

¹¹ For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the LORD, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.

¹² Then you will call on me and come and pray to me, and I will listen to you. ¹³ You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart. ¹

This is now in God's hands.  Brit's parents now clearly know the desire of my heart.  And I know where they stand. 

God is going to have to intervene on behalf of all of us.  I need to be seeking His will for all of us.  Only God knows what is best for Brit.  This is not about me. Or her parents.  It is about Brit.

Open adoption and the man who makes mine bearable

When Brit was about 6 months old, I was really strugging with why her parents had pulled so far back from me. I was trying to communicate with them and they stopped responding. (I was not crazy in my emails to them.  I only sent one about every 3 weeks or so and they were always lighthearted and simple.  Never requesting anything.  Just trying to reach out.)  So finally in desperation, I sent them an email asking what I had done to cause them to no longer interact with me like they had prior to her birth.

The next day I received a phone call.  It is the one and only phone call I have ever received from Brit's father, but I never want to forget it.

His voice was so very tender toward me.  I was a complete disaster and he knew it.  He handled what could have been a crazy emotional phone call with grace. I will never forget how even though the message he was delivering to me was difficult, and knowingly painful for me to hear, he approached me with love, honesty, tenderness and respect.

He gently explained to me that once they got Brit home, they began to realize how badly they wanted her to be "theirs".  And while they never thought they would feel like this, they were struggling with feeling like they were raising Lisa's baby.  He was very gentle with how he said that.  He said "I know you are probably thinking, duh, that is my baby, what did you think you would be doing?" 

He went on to explain how they had thought adoption would be easier for them than it had been.  They had become very protective of Brit.  Especially Brit's mom.  He mentioned that they had come the realization that Brit may be the only child that they ever had and that was very tough for her mom to accept.

We had an extensive conversation about this and how pictures of me and the boys were hard for the mom because all she could see was how much Brit looked like us.  She had stopped responding to my emails and instead had asked Brit's dad to take over because she no longer had the emotional reserves to do it.

Brit's dad and I talked for about 15 minutes and there are plenty of things I am sure were very important that I should share here, but I honestly don't want to dwell so much on the painful parts of that conversation.  And I think my mind has helped me forget the exact words because so much of what was said was so traumatic to me at the time.

But I do remember clearly what Brit's dad said to me toward the end of our phone conversation. I had reminded him that when I was pregnant, Brit's mom had promised me we would always be friends and we would continue to stay connected because we had established such a great relationship. I never had a single doubt that would be true.  We really had gotten to be friends.  Then our relationship immediately ceased when the baby was buckled in their car seat at the hospital.

I explained to him how I was struggling with feeling misled - even if it wasn't intentional (which I didn't think then, and I am sure of today).  I told him how hard it was to be close to someone and then never hear back from that person again after she took the baby home.

He was very empathetic.  He assured me that it was never intentional.  I recall part of his response to me was, "I prayed over and over that God would make my wife and me parents.  And I didn't know how it was going to happen. But I would NEVER have been willing become a parent at the expense of our integrity. We would have never misled anyone just so we could become parents. We love you and have never meant to hurt you.  We are so thankful for what you have provided for us."

We continued to talk about how they had never expected to feel like they did.  And I shared that I never expected to feel how I did either.  Both of us had very unrealistic views about how simple adoption would be.  They thought they would bring home a perfect baby and they would go about their lives as if they had just given birth to her.  And I thought that I would be able to carry on with my life as if everything was OK and I was fine with someone else parenting a child I had given birth to.

The reality of what adoption did to all of us was much more harsh than that.  It changed all of us.  Some things were for the good, and some brought out feelings that none of us would have ever thought we would ever possess.

When we had our first visit this weekend, I saw that same man whispering to Brit.  While he is a monster of a man in size, his voice is gentle and comforting.  His love for that little girl is more than apparent.  He is a wonderful father to her and a doting husband to his wife.  He possesses what few men can seem to grasp and he is able to be sensitive to the needs of all of the "girls" in his life.  He comforts his wife as she adjusts to being an adoptive mother.  He comforted me as I sobbed to him on the phone when my heart was hurting so badly.  And he comforts his daughter, like a true father should.

Apparently all of the books that he has read about coaching girls (he is a HS girls basketball coach), have paid great dividends for all of the rest of us too.

So my closing thoughts. 

Adoption is emotionally complicated.  No matter how prepared you think you are for what is about to happen, things rarely go according to plan.  People are messy.  Even those of us who think we have it together. :)

Be tender and honest with one another.  In all circumstances.  Speak gently, especially when the message is painful.  But always be honest, and wrap it in genuine love.

Plan for the worst case scenario when you are preparing an adoption plan.  As a birthmother, you may not think that you will need lots of contact or interaction.  But you might be surprised. 

As an adoptive parent, you might think that you are perfectly content with the creation of your family through adoption.  But infertility grief seems to have long tentacles.  And even the joy of adoption can make those pesky tentacles grow.  Couple that with the strong "mama bear" instinct and suddenly sharing stories, pictures and visits with the birth parents becomes harder than you expected.  Especially when the birthmother is so engulfed with her own grief.

And these are just general statements which I know do not apply to everyone.  However, I was sure it didn't apply to me either.  I had seen two separate counselors, explained my decision to a hundred different people (probably literally), and I was still overcome by an extreme need for more contact after her birth.  Which was only inflamed by getting less than we thought we would have.

If you are reading this and you are a mother considering an open adoption, PLEASE do not let this scare you about open adoption!  Open adoption can be beautiful.  I am watching from a distance as families I have come to know and love are navigating wonderful adoption relationships.  Mine is just very new and we are still figuring out our dance.  So I have fresh grief and I am dealing with the actions that grief has also brought to Brit's family.  (Which hopefully is slowly going by the wayside.)

Wow.  This didn't go where I thought it was, but I suppose that is the therapeutic part of blogging.

I hope others share their thoughts along these lines.  I like hearing from others so much more than hearing from me.