I really don’t have time to be writing out this blog post right now. I really should be working on my SEO presentation for the American Adoption Congress Conference.  But I have the distinct feeling that these thoughts are going on keep spinning around in my brain if I don’t get them out on paper.

So just a peak into daily life here beyond the blog;  It’s Monday morning. I’m putzing around the house, drinking my coffee, getting dressed, putting in my contact lenses, letting out the dog. The house is empty except for me and the animals who pretty much remain underfoot all day. With the weekend now over, Rye went to the office and the kids are in school.  I aimlessly pick up after them and when my brain has kicked in enough I go to sit down at my desk and get to work. I DO have to focus on the presentation, plus I have a few calls scheduled, a meeting, and then just Adoptionland  in general. There is always something brewing.

So I decide that to keep myself motivated and on track today, I deserve a bit of music.  I really don’t often get a chance to listen to “my” music all that much anymore. So, when no one is home, I sometime crank Pandora station on Rye’s computer. He has some serious speakers.  I will make my house shake to Morrissey or Robert Smith, but I don’t do it often.

Anyway, I log onto Pandora and pop on my “Sister of Mercy” channel as that tends to be a very nice mix; New Order, Smiths, Siousxie, The Cure, the Mission UK,  Bauhaus, etc.; just my cup of tea. And upon hearing the dance club fav; The Sisters of Mercy’s Lucretia, My Reflection, I think to myself how I feel like dancing.

And it’s Ok that I want to dance.

So I’m not entirely sure what really happened there; but – wow –  kind of dancing and hearing that music just triggered some sort of intense release of emotions and I just sat there and cried and cried.

I’m not entirely sure why, because really, it was a rather good cry. Like it was a relief as well as a release for all I kept on thinking was that it, meaning my life, really, really was.. OK. Everything actually turned out OK. And I guess listening to this music, which really transforms me back so strongly to the girl I once was before adoption entered my life. 3It’s was like this weird connection. For a brief minute,  it was like I could slip back to her, that earlier me, remembering  how lost and alone she often felt, and reassure her that it WOULD BE OK.  It really really would suck awful bad at times, but here, from where I stand now, we managed. We did it. We came out the other side and it really IS good.

And I felt thankful and blessed and so appreciative of everything in my life now.. and even though there are losses that can never be regained, it’s really OK now.

Sometimes I just wish so bad that I could  really just go back into time for just the briefest of moments, just to reach out and touch my own hand, to look myself in the eyes and reassure me that it was all going to be worth it one day.  And maybe that is the struggle. I know I always say I will  be happy despite the wreck that adoption has caused in my life; that I will refuse to allow adoption to take more from me, but the last step to accepting it all really,  of allowing adoption to be justified,  is such a far stretch. It’s one thing to say it’s going to be Ok, but to say it was worth it,  justifies the sacrifice of Max . I can never justify that, but it’s Ok now. It’s Ok now.

It’s not a far stretch to pretty much know that this intense emotional release is probably triggered some level as the AAC conference approaches. While there is somewhat the pressure of preparation, I actually don’t worry much about that aspect and I can’t say I feel nervous or anything in that way. Rather, I do know from my travels into “LIVE IN PERSON ADOPTIONLAND!”  before, it’s quite normal for me to feel  some dread and trepidation that can come out as fear right before an event. There is always that deep knowledge that one probably WILL have to access some uncomfortable emotions or  I might be triggered and I think it’s an avoidance tool for me. I know to recognize it and ignore it by now.

Yeah, this is something more than the expected dread. Of course, whenever I return to Boston it’s pretty surreal on some  deeper level. Both NYC and Boston are so tightly linked with the whole relinquishment experience, and then both the AAC and Boston are directly attributed to my reunion experience.  So there is all that  and then, to my incredible delight, Max is coming to the actual conference itself on Saturday. That’s pretty freaking huge for me. I mean,  I really can’t even begin to unpack all the emotions crammed into that.

I’m excited and thrilled to be seeing him which I would be on TOP of everything anyway, but it’s so much more. All these pieces of my worlds coming together. It’s intense enough when the online universe is walking talking humans. That’s often crazy enough! And then, add to the already existing excitement of bringing  AdoptionLand and SEO – two of my favorite things- together. And then my SON.. and my work.. and my friends.. and we’re seeing my brother too..and there is so much  joy I fear my heart will pop!

I mean, can I just bug out a minute here? Like it’s normal for me to just kind of bug out,  right? Like it’s never been a secret what I do online in AdoptionLand, and Max has always been supportive, yet, understandable, kept out of the inner workings and did his own thing. That’s been totally fine, so  while of course it was my idea that he might be interested in the conference, his participation is completely his own decision. So couple the fact that it’s just great to spend time with him- which just brings up normal reunion giddiness –  I get the added bonus of getting to show off my wonderful son to so many dear friends.  And then there  is the fact that, of course, I don’t  really worry, but you know.. I worry.. about how it will be like for him, though I know he will most likely take it all in stride because he does that. So I don’t worry. It’s just there.

Going back to Boston feels like going back to time. I feel like all these parts of me are swirling together but it feels good. It feels, I think, like it is supposed to. I look around my office, my house, my window, my street. I think of my home, my family, my husband,  my children, my friends, my neighbors, my colleagues.  I am just so beyond grateful for being here now.

And then, this sounds kind of weird, maybe, but I helped Scarlett dye her hair cotton candy pink over the weekend.  Hair has been a trigger for me before, but there is a certain  extra layer of emotions I often feel as I witness my own daughter begin to traverse the years I remember as so very difficult. I got  grounded at 16 for daring to dye my hair black; my revenge is I happily triple process my daughter’s gorgeous natural color at the merest whim of color.  I guess, like Saving Our Sisters, sometimes the only thing we can to is to give others the support and kindness that we wish others had given to us.  I can be the mother I wish I had.  The mother I needed, but was denied.  I cannot help but to take note and see how I am such a different parent than my own mother was and I know it’s an improvement. I watch her, my clone child, and remember who I was instead. Seeing my children, now, growing up.. really.. for the most part.. unweighted…I guess that also wants to make me want to dance.  Is it weird to dance and cry your face off because you are just relieved that you are actually happy?

If only I could reach back and touch my younger self and reassure her just once, that it would be OK. It would have made tings just so much easier.  I would have had hope. I guess I always had hope. Maybe that is the intensity, knowing that hope is realized.

Really, finally, feeling, that it is OK.  I can still feel that sad girl, dancing alone and wishing, as I dance alone, knowing. And I cry in relief and gratitude. It’s OK.