needing the love*
me last year, canon digital rebel xt
The last few days have been so completely topsy turvy...whirly twirly...curly whirly. Those are the best combination of words to describe the loss of footing I have felt.
As I write this, I am back to both feet being on the ground but I am feeling quite emotionally spent. Like I need to go to a movie theater tomorrow and just veg out on films that have not one ounce of drama. Popcorn included. Perhaps even some chocolate. All. day. long.
I'm not comfortable going into too many details out of respect for the lovely birth mom and her right to privacy but I do feel the need to spill some emotions and ask for gentle lovins from my blog family.
This particular situation has shifted in that there is a really good chance we need to open our hearts to other birth moms. I attempted to do this all along but I think because she was my first and only or perhaps because she was just so damn cool and kindred...I have felt really attached to her and this baby. As much as I tried to be the all together potential adoptive parent by saying I wasn't attached and fully aware of all the potential fall through's that could happen, my heart was in a different place. I did imagine her face when thinking of "the one" and I did imagine her handing us her child, giving us complete heart-full permission to parent that baby she has been carrying. This awareness of my attachment all surfaced at the thought of losing her, losing them in our life.
So, I've been grieving. It feels like a loss and I've had to dive down deep into my heart and decipher all the reasons why I felt this was the one. I am needing to make room for the possibility that she isn't and some other beautiful, courageous, brave woman out there is carrying our child.
It's just a shift. It's a grieving process that all adoptive parents go through if things surface and plans have to change.
I've talked on the phone all day with our superstar adoption consultant Tammy. I sat on the couch with my husband when he returned from work and we talked through all of our emotions slowly, carefully and mindfully. I then talked all night on the phone with my marmie, moving through it all with her from beginning to end. The lump-in-your-throat tears spilled each time until that big deep breath came to cleanse it all away. Because of all this, I've worked through so much of it and I do see the light and I fully get that this first birth mom was all part of our path, part of our eyes and hearts opening to the idea of our baby coming to us through adoption. So much so that at this point in my journey, adopting feels more peaceful to me than getting pregnant. I'm ready to be a parent. That is also a shift I have to recognize that is pretty awesome. For this I am eternally grateful to this first birth mom in my life.
At the very foundation of all the shock, sadness and emotion, there is still a sense of relief that comes from discovering some clear answers out of a well of confusion we had been feeling. Like we're getting that permission to breathe, step back and re-evaluate our hearts and needs.
I'm still grieving.
I know I don't ask for this often but I would love some hugs and affirmation through this. I actually have a really difficult time with the idea of asking for help. I don't feel comfy with that type of attention or admission of needing anything from loved ones but I am letting my guard down. I'm a Big Strong Girl but part of being strong is opening your hands and heart to the awareness that you can't always do it alone.
I was wondering if you, my blog family, could send us some prayers, lit candles, affirmations, poetry, uplifting adoption stories, dreams, inspirations, gentleness...for my husband, for me and for the precious birth mom in our life that needs it even more than we do.
Thank you, dear souls.
So, as I finished writing this and was just about to publish this post, my husband rolls his desk chair up to mine and made a sound of poop coming out of a diaper while spreading his hand from my shirt up to my face (like our baby's poop spilling all over me) and said..."are you sure you're ready for that?!?!?" with a huge smile on his face.
We laughed, hugged and both said yes. How I adore that he knows how to lift our hearts with his humor...even in the midst of grief.