By Susie
I’ve been in an adoption funk again for the last couple of weeks. I know it’s partially because a planned visit to see Christopher in July didn’t happen due to my getting another kidney stone a couple of days before I was supposed to go. Now we are finding it difficult to find time when we are both free at the same time. It’s been over a year since I’ve seen him, two years since I’ve seen his children. I miss them dearly.
The funk felt bigger than that though.
On facebook the other night, someone had posted a link to a site that calculates your probable conception date according to the date of birth. Since I was bored, I clicked on the link and was going to punch in my kids’ birthdays, starting with the first one ~ Christopher’s birthday.
Then I see. Huh… Does the body, the heart and soul remember?
It’s probably exactly 37 years ago, give or take a day or five, that I became pregnant with my firstborn son lost to adoption.
The Birthday was: Tuesday, May 8, 1979
Conception Date: Tuesday, August 15, 1978
Implantation Dates: Between Monday, August 21, 1978 and Sunday, August 27, 1978The persons birthday was on Tuesday, May 8, 1979 at 40 weeks, and conception would have been on or around Tuesday, August 15, 1978 with sex likely between Wednesday, August 9, 1978 and Tuesday, August 15, 1978
37 years sounds so long ago. So many things have changed in 37 years. Sadly, much has not changed.
Mothers are still being shamed into giving their children up for adoption.
No ~ not as as it was,
having no choice if you were unmarried.
But in different ways.
In more subtle ways.
And some not so subtle.
I wonder if I will ever see a day in my lifetime when motherhood is honored again?
When the mother and child bond is cherished as it should be?
When the trauma and loss of a mother losing a child and a child losing a mother are losses that are recognized for everyone ~ and not completely dismissed if adoption is a part of the story?
I wonder…
Read at the Source: : Finding Christopher, Finding Myself
I just gave my son up today.. I cry every hour due to the fact I had him for 3 weeks with me while I made up my mind. I cried so hard today it hurts to touch my face.. I haven’t slept in going on 22 hours.. I hold his blanket to my chest as I type this.. I didn’t think It was going to be so hard.. Dear God.. I miss him… His blue eyes, big yawns, tiny hands and tiny feet compared to his 12lb 15oz body.. I miss his cries at 4am.. I miss his smell… I can’t even look at the crib he was placed in.. I miss the way he curled into a ball on my chest to nap… I miss him and it hasn’t been 24 hours.