2 weeks & 1 day ago, I had a very different outlook as to what this Christmas was going to look like. I had imagined I would have been home for a week and a half by now, that I might even have been in Colorado at this moment with Kyle, River and our new baby girl. I imagined my sleep would be little, her room smelling of poopy diapers, and our house littered with baby things yet again.
Then came along 2 weeks ago. That was the day where I suffered an unbelievable amount of pain. And although it has begun to dissipate, it is not yet gone. Are things better? Yes. But are things better… no.
I have looked in books, the internet, and various other places to find out how to deal with this grief. And there is little out there to help me. Even other adoptive parents (who have been through something similar) talk about how bad “this” is, but once your baby is in your arms you know that although “this” was hard, it was what was meant to be.
Hm. That doesn’t help me now.
Well, I shouldn’t say that completely. I do have a new focus on the future. I have actively been calling my agency here in MN, making sure our 171-H for our Rwandan adoption gets all authenticated and certified and sent off to Rwanda, and trying my darndest to plant some hope in my heart for another birthmom to pick us.
It’s been exactly 3 months since our profile was sent out to all the agencies around the US. About a month and a half of that was spent in hope for Alabama. I’m grieving for that loss… and I’m mad about that loss.
I mean really, I’m mad at statistics. Statistics said that it would go through. Everything about this birthmom said that she was not going to change her mind (that’s what the agency said). There were many reasons for that but one big one was that she didn’t change her mind in the hospital. She waited till the 11th hour. That was so close to my zero hour. Ug. That was supposed to be my hour.
She gave her our name, just to make the adoption process easier for us. Then I got to know the wonderful foster-mom who send us loads of pictures that made me fall in love with her, more than I ever thought possible with just a small photograph. In my mind, at that moment, that little baby was ours.
But in reality, she wasn’t.
She has a new name now, and she is with her momma and big brother and granddaddy too. I am sure she is being loved unconditionally.
I just wish, right now, that it was by us.
Someday, hopefully soon, I hope another birthmom will look at our profile and pick us. And I hope that she realizes that that decision is what is best for her and her child, and then at that point we can be her (or his) forever parents.
I have so much sadness in my heart right now, in a time of year that it is not supposed to be there.
But I also have hope.
I will cling to that for now…
and hopefully that part of my heart will grow and grow until it is needed no longer.