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." 

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...

Sometimes words you hear keep you from being able to breathe

I have met someone new.  He doesn't live here.  So we are spending alot of time getting to know each other on the phone.  Which is kinda nice.  We met and spent a day together at an event, but he left that night and I have not seen him since.

He finally asked me the other day to explain to him why I said I have had 4 children but I only talk about 3 of them.

I told him about Brit.  I did really well.  I didn't cry (or at least not so he could hear).

The first words out of his mouth were "I sure wish I would have known you then.  I would love to have a child (he is 42 without kids of his own).  Is there any way you can get her back?"

And my immediate response without thinking was "If I could have, I would have done it days after I signed the papers."

He gently replied to me "That is just so sad.  I feel awful for you."

:sigh:

But on a happy note, this is the first time I have told someone I might have a relationship with about my adoption and it went well.

Dreams, regret and the truth comes out

I know I have written this before, but when it comes to dreams about Brit, it is unbelievable how upsetting it is to me because they are so real.  It ruins my entire day.  I wake up a blubbering mess and generally I can't shake it.

Even when the dream is happy, I wake up in a near panic trying to go back to sleep so I can hold her again.

Last night was one of those nights.  In addition to dreaming vividly about my dear sweet Brit, I also dreamt that the BF and I had an argument.  In the dream, he told me that he was choosing to live in Vegas over continuing a relationship with me.  This conversation between us happened immediately after he and I had just had a fabulous afternoon together with Brit, her parents and her new twin brother and sister (still in the dream of course).

I know that there are real reasons for all of the dream components.

1. BF and I are supposed to have a 'where do we stand in our relationship' talk scheduled for tomorrow.  That explains the picking Vegas over me conversation in the dream. (Of note, he has no plans or aspirations of living in Vegas.  That must be some other manifestation.)  I am anticipating that our conversation tomorrow is going to be a final end to any romantic relationship between the two of us.  So I am certain that this dream conversation is my way of dealing with what I feel is inevitable in real life.
2. The timing of the dream argument between BF and me occurring after a visit with Brit was a real experience.  That really happened this March when he refused to talk to me after our one and only visit with Brit.  I was upset after the visit and he didn't think he could handle listening to me tell him how upset it had made me so he told me he needed a week away from me to clear his head.  I spent a week weeping and feeling more alone than I have ever felt in my entire life.  It makes me cry right now just typing that.
3. The visit with Brit comes from the desire I have to touch and hold my little girl.  I know there is no visit in my near future, so I have been trying to stifle the thoughts of it.  It appears to be working pretty well as I have been doing better with not crying at work the last few weeks.  But given a chance, my subconscious mind reminds me that I have a primal need to touch my child.  To hold her and to love her.
4. In my dream I nursed Brit (which I did for all of my children).  I am going to completely blame this part of my dream on my Bestest Birthmother Friend (BBF) who has struggled with this very topic.  She wished her adoptive parents would have accepted her offer to ship her breast milk to their son, which they respectfully declined.  It was hard for her to accept and we have been talking about it alot lately.  In my dream, breastfeeding Brit was something only I could do.  I am certain that is a very significant insight.

There are also lots of other parts of the dream I could explain away.  But it really doesn't matter.  What matters to me now is that I realize again how just when I think I can manage my emotional condition regarding adoption, I am sent reeling by a simple dream.

I don't want to be a birthmom anymore.

It hurts too much. 

And I don't want my daughter to be adopted. 

I want her to be my daughter.

There.  I said it.

I thought the truth was supposed to set me free...

Instead, I just feel heartbroken.

 

NOTE:  I have many adoptive mother followers and readers.  This is not about you.  I think many of you are exceptional parents and you are doing a noble job of managing healthy open adoptions with your child and his/her birthparents.  

This is also not about my daughter's adoptive parents.  I know my daughter is loved and cared for.  The adoptive parents did not cause me to make this poor decision.  I did it all by myself. 

This is about a mother who regrets a decision made that will forever change the lives of herself, her daughter and her family. 

Finding the good

The roller coaster of emotion that comes with adoption can take its toll on a person.  I have seen several posts lately from some of my favorite bloggers saying they are taking time off from the adoption world discussions.  Boy, I can understand that.  I hope they return soon, refreshed and willing to share again.  But I can understand if it takes a while.

I too have needed some relief for some time now.  I see that my posts have gotten progressively more sad and melancholy.

I don't want to be that girl.

My adoption story is not all rainbows and butterflies.  Those of you who read regularly know that.  But it also isn't bad.  My daughter has great parents who love her very much.  They send me monthly updates with photos.  I know how she is growing and changing.  I do not have to imagine, because I get to see pictures and read stories.

However, I find that all I can focus on is what I DON'T have.  I don't have that intimate kind of relationship with her adoptive family that many of you share with your adoption triad.  I am held at a distance, instead of embraced.

I don't get sweet text messages and pictures when Brit does something cute.  I have never once had a friendly phone call with her parents since her birth.

This weekend I was once again reminded of how friends of friends are allowed more time with Brit than I am.  My sister found out that one of her dear friends is also a close friend of Brit's mother's sister (Brit's aunt).  I met this friend at a restaurant while I was out with Brit's BF (yes, we were out together again).  After we met briefly, my sister and her friend went out for the evening. My sister's friend was asking about my children and somehow my sister and her friend put two and two together, and my sister's friend told her how she has met Brit and knows their family well.  Really?  A friend of the aunt has spent time with my birthdaughter, and I have had one visit for two hours.

Yes, my mind went down that yucky path when I found that out.  Of course, as a nice birthmother, I did not say a single negative word out loud.  I just keep them in my head where they swirl around and create a life of their own.

I don't want that.

I want to focus on the positive.  I want to be loving and understanding.  Not bitter.

Adoption takes strength I wish I never had to find.  It has caused me to face my selfishness.  To deal with my lack of faith that God truly can make beauty from ashes.

I want to do a better job of being still and waiting.  And trusting that there is a reason for today's suffering.

The truth is I cannot do anymore to change my current circumstances.  I placed my daughter with another family.  No matter how much pain, regret and remorse I have about this now, the decision has been made and cannot be undone.

I have never before been in a position like this one.  Every thing that I have ever done or not done in my lifetime, I could do something later to 'undo' it.

Not with this decision.

So where does that leave me?

I suppose I get to choose what I do now.

So here is what I choose.  I am going to use my experiences for the good of someone else. 

What I have lived through can be used for the benefit of someone else who is either traveling my same path, or who may be dealing with that pivotal decision that could put her here.

And maybe by sharing my experiences and feelings I can also be a resource to adoptive parents to help understand what their birthmother might be feeling.

I know I am just one birthmother, and I do not represent all birthmothers.  But I am one.  And what I think and feel is real for me.

Maybe it will make a difference.

Ugh

My youngest son had a terrible headache last night.  He was lying on the couch and I was on the computer at a table near him.

Out of the blue he looks up and says,

"Mom, can we adopt Brit back?"

I responded (trying not to cry),

"I suppose we could, but Brit's parents would have to let us.  And that would never happen."

 "Why?"

"Because they love her so much that they would never want to let her go."

"I wish we could have her back.  It's not fair."

Conversations like those are a dagger to the heart.

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.

Baby love and hindsight

So I have spent the weekend loving a 4 month old little girl.  **smiling**

The good news is her momma has asked if I will do the same every weekend.  I agreed unless I have something that would prohibit me from taking the Princess along with me.  Looking ahead I don't see anything that would fit that bill.  Hooray!

I know my last post was a bit apprehensive about how I would feel caring for a little girl.  It turned out exactly how I hoped.  Instead of pain, it was therapeutic.

She is the best baby.  Happy most all of the time.  Just a joy to have around for all of us.

And for all of you adoptive parents who read this, you'll love this one...

BF and I had a date night planned for Saturday night prior to me committing to watching the Princess.  We decided to go ahead and bring her along with us since we were just going out to dinner.  We knew that our dinner would be a little late because we were going to meet up with my 18 year old son to take pictures before he headed off to his senior prom.

We took the obligatory pictures (I will post them tomorrow.).  The teenagers were quickly fed up with all of us parents snapping hundreds of photos.  I believe it is our parental right. And my son knew he had to bear it, because I would insist. :)

After pictures, BF and I had trouble finding a restaurant that wasn't packed with prom dates.  We were finally able to get in at Outback.  I'm sure we were quite the sight, two almost 40 year olds acting like we had never carried a baby in a carrier before in our lives.  Let's just say we were a bit rusty.  It has been a day or two since our kids were that little (more like a DECADE).

People would come by as we sat in the waiting area and ooh and ahh over the baby as she slept.  We didn't say anything about her not being ours.  We just agreed that she is beautiful. (Photo to prove it. Don't mind the bow that slipped down her forehead, I didn't want to wake her by fixing it while she slept.  I did fix it later.) 

So we finally get seated and our over-exuberant waitress comes by.  She looks at the baby and says "How precious! Is she your first?  She sure looks just like you!"

I giggled, looked at BF then replied. "Actually she would be our 6th child, if she was ours.  But we are just babysitting."

I thought that was pretty funny.  Princess looks nothing like us. Not even remotely.  I still smile when I think about it.  Maybe that is just a waitress line to get better tips.  Whatever it was, it did make us laugh.

So we enjoyed our dinner and we were thoroughly entertained by the Princess.  It was very nice to have her along with us.  We took turns talking and playing with her.  We were just like first time parents.  I am sure we were pretty darn cute.

But that is one of the happy/sad things that I felt this weekend. 

BF absolutely doted on that little girl.  He held her, fed her, and let her sleep in the crook of his arm.  He tickled her face when she was awake and offered many times to take her from me so I could get ready, or eat, or whatever other thing I had to do next.

That was really hard to watch.  Knowing that he and I had a little girl together that we could have been doing all of those same things with.  If he were a deadbeat, this never would have been an issue.  But he is a terrific father. 

Watching him with Princess hurt my heart.  I loved watching him gush over her and be so attentive.  But that little voice in the back of my mind that makes me second guess my adoption decision kept saying "see what it COULD have been like".

It also hurt to remember that BF absolutely, without a doubt, did not want to parent another child when I told him I was pregnant.  In his mind, there was no viable scenario that included keeping our child. 

He didn't want me to parent a child alone, but he also had no intentions of committing to me.  He was done with kids.  No negotiation.  He didn't want the responsibility of another child. 

He also didn't want me to keep her because he felt like he would be obligated for a child he didn't plan for. 

Now in my rational mind, I know that alot of the things said during this time were during a period of shock for both of us.  Neither of us had any idea that we were capable of having more children, so an unexpected pregnancy was unbelievable.  Stress and shock do not create the most thoughtful comments or actions.

But that same man, who couldn't even fathom parenting another child, loved all over Princess.  I felt a deep sense of loss watching it.  It was almost like seeing in a crystal ball what "could have been" had I made a different choice.

Hindsight. Regret. And unrealistic expectations of the "what could have beens."

Truth be told, had I kept Brit, it probably would not have ended well for BF and me.  The stress of parenting a child from two separate households would have taken a toll on our relationship.

I probably would have been resentful, thinking it wasn't fair that BF wasn't helping enough. 

He would have been resentful that I made him parent a child that he did not plan for and that he had no control over whether I kept or not.  (The age old issue of a woman having all the 'rights' to maintain a pregnancy or keep a child.  No matter what the father wants.)

I am smart enough to know that keeping a baby for a weekend is nothing like parenting day in and day out.  When Princess went home with her momma this evening, I knew I had the rest of the night to myself.  My boys are big enough that I can have alone time without having to be a hands on parent.  I can even go potty alone!

If I would have parented Brit, I would have been exhausted all the time.  My temper short.  My stress level even higher than it is today.  Brit would have definitely not gotten the best of me.  She would have gotten what was left over from a working single mother.  She would have spent lots of nights out late at ball games.  Many hours in daycare.

Instead, Brit has a stay at home mom (Not that I think working moms can't be great moms.  I'm one and happy with it most days.)  She has never spent a single day in daycare.  Her daddy comes home every evening and loves all over her.  The world revolves around her (until her twin brother and sister are born!).  If you could paint an ideal babyhood, she has had it. (Knowing that she has no idea she is adopted yet.)

I am glad I didn't know how painful being a birthmother would be before I chose adoption for Brit.  If I had, I would not have made the decision I did.  That doesn't mean that the decision was wrong.  I think it is just human nature to make the choice that hurts the least.  And being exhausted some days would beat a lifetime of grief any day.

So I remind myself that those icky feelings of regret are no different than ones everyone has when we second guess ourselves and our decisions. 

Should I have married the man I did? 
What if I would have taken that other job instead?
Did we make a mistake moving? 

We all have these kinds of questions.  The difference is how we deal with them.

If I let it, it could consume me.  And boy, oh boy, do those feelings try to consume me.

I have to consciously decide that I cannot change the decisions I have made.  I am the sum of my experiences.  We all make decisions based on the best information we have available at the time.  Hindsight is always much more clear.  But looking back keeps me from looking forward.

Brit is happy.  I did what I thought was best at the time when I had to decide.

I never could get the picture when she was smiling.  Go figure!

So I will love on the little Princess I have with me on the weekends and I will be a blessing to her mother by caring for her child while she works.  Hopefully I can alleviate some of Sara's stress by caring for her daughter.  I will do my part to be part of the village that it can take to raise a child.  In return, loving Princess will soothe my soul.

I will not be jealous of Sara because she has her daughter and I do not.  I will rejoice that Sara has her daughter with her so she does not have to feel the loss of a birthmother. 

I will rejoice in watching BF love on her too. 

I will focus on what IS, not what I think I could have had.

I will know that I made a decision for the best for my child.  I will not regret choosing what I thought was best for her, not what was best for me.

I will remember that just because I don't have the relationship I wish I had with Brit right now, it may not be like that forever.  Time heals. My love for Brit will not wane.  I will be steadfast and always available for her.

I will love on the sweet Princess who God has placed in my life for reasons I may not ever fully understand.  There is a reason our lives have intertwined.

I will be fully present to the boys I do parent. I will not allow my grief to affect their joy.  I will be the parent to them that they deserve.

And I will seek God's will for my life, rather than trying to figure it out on my own.