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.

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. :)

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. 

Another dream

I dream about Brit regularly.  The dreams are never that she wasn't adopted, they are just manifestations of seeing her, being with her and having time with her.

Before I had my visit with her, my counselor asked me if it helped being able to hold her and see her in my dreams.  I suppose the answer to that is not completely yes or no.

Almost always I wake up upset.  Mostly because I am waking up and she is going away.  Again.

The dreams are so real.  I am always still her birth mom, and her parents are there, sharing her with me.  So it's not like I am having fantasy land where she was never adopted and we are all living happily ever after as a family.

But the dreams allow me to be present with her.  I carry her on my hip.  Snuggle her on my shoulder.

Last night was tough one.  Great dream.  Very real.  Hard on the heart. 

My youngest son D had fallen asleep in my bed so I just left him there and I slept on the other side.  He is a bit of a wild sleeper so I shoved a body pillow between the two of us, rolled to the edge of the bed and dropped from exhaustion.

Sometime early this morning I started dreaming that Brit's parents came over to my house (not my real life house, but it was the one I had in the dream).  We just hung out and talked.  We were all happy and friendly. There was a strange part where I got stung by a bee.  Another part where Brit's dad was too tall to get down the basement stairs - just fragmented thoughts that happen in dreams.  But all in all, I was just enjoying time with Brit.

Then it is time for Brit's parents to leave so they pack her up and head out.  For some reason (I can't remember it now), they pull back up in the driveway and come back.  However, in that amount of time my boys have come home.  So they are now face to face with Brit's parents and seeing Brit for the first time.

I was so excited for them.  I was showing her off to the boys.  And they were loving all over her.

Then D woke me up with a hand to my face as he was rolling over.

It woke him too.

I looked over at him and without thinking said, "I have to go back to sleep, I was just dreaming that you were meeting Brit for the first time."

He sleepily looked at me and said "I wish it were true."

Then he rolled back over and fell asleep again.

Broke. My. Heart.

Maybe he won't remember it.  I know I won't forget it.