About 14 years after the loss of my son, I was still a “Happy Birthmother”. I was still under the belief that adoption was a great option, my son was having a great life (though it was traditionally closed..so what did I really know), and it was all my supreme choice that cause the typical “no regrets”.
I dream big. But I want change dammit!! I want change bad enough to DO something about it. It’s great to talk to people and I know that I have helped some, but talking a woman or two a year into being a mom is sometimes just not enough. So many are still lost and it breaks my heart. Sometimes I just can’t even go there.
I have come, over time, to embrace the one real meaning of my name. I am broken. I am disabled. I am different and injured. And while the obvious and usually most predominant reason for thus is because I am a mother who lost her first child to adoption, loss and being broken has been a constant theme in my whole life.
The tension and disappointment from that begins to coil around me like a spring. The longer the time frame, the tighter I am wound.
Instinctual knowing your child cannot be replicated in Adoption. It must be really scary to an adoptive parent. For the natural parents have the one thing that they cannot ever have; the true cognitive, cellular bond.
And it is just not any fun. Rye had a cold and thankfully, it was not that bad for him. I am selfish and do not say thankfully for his benefit, but for mine, as he becomes the most miserable man child on the face of the earth when he is sick. The cold made it was though to both Garin and Tristan and myself. Garin did OK and Tristan…
Pudding, the dead kitten, is still on the front porch, frozen, in a box. I don’t know what we are going to do with him. I don’t think we can bury him as the ground is already frozen.
A proposed federal bill to provide grants for pregnant & parenting students, prospective parents anticipating a birth or adoption, and students who are placing or have placed a child for adoption.
Adoption made me welcome in constant sorrow. Once welcomed, there is no turning it away like some unwanted guest who stays too long. I had wanted to live my life, but instead I gave it away and the loss of my son cut though my life like a bright red marker carving a path for me to follow.
My Cat Got Hit by a Car. PuddingHead got taken on the road this afternoon. We lost him. It was snowy today..and I guess with him being all white.