Anger and Hatred

So I don't know if it's because I've been on emotional overload this week, or if it was the radio show I was listening to that set me off....(they were talking about men who have wronged them.) But I was driving home last night and was suddenly filled with the most intense anger and hatred towards Charlie's birth father.

For those who know me, you know that it is a rare occasion that I express any sort of hate or anger towards anyone. It's not in my nature to feel that way and I don't think it's healthy to hold onto such negative feelings. It's also not how Jesus teaches us to treat others...but yet, here I was feeling those exact emotions to an extreme I'd never felt before.

I think everyone grieves things differently, and I'm aware that anger is part of the grieving process. I just wasn't prepared for it to hit me now...like why now? Why would it be literally two years after my last interaction with him be the time it decides to show up?

I'm angry that he took advantage of me. I'm angry that he acted like I was the one who "tricked him" and got myself pregnant; that I wanted to lock him down and ruin his life. I'm angry that he had the nerve to tell me that I was the last person on this earth that he would want to be with, let alone make a child with. I'm angry that he refused to be a part of this child's life; that he showed zero interest in helping me create an adoption plan for her. I'm angry that he asked me to give him yearly updates on her, but that he wouldn't want to really be a part of her life.

I hate how selfish he is, how rude and demeaning he spoke towards me...I hate that his sister had a child a week after I had Charlie and he was there for that birth, but not mine. I hate that he gets to continue living in secrecy...that nobody in his family even knows my daughter exists. I hate that I was the one who had to carry this life, all on my own. I hate that he said, "I'm sorry you have to do this alone." I hate that Charlie will grow up knowing me, but never know the other half of her. I hate that her life had to be started in such an unloving way. I hate that one day I will have to tell her about the start of her life and explain why he isn't around. I hate that it seems like I'm the only one who had to grieve the loss of a child.

I hate that I'm angry. I don't like feeling this way. But I know that I am human and this is a normal human emotion. And as with all of the other emotions I've felt over the last two years, I have given myself permission to fully embrace those feelings. I want to allow my heart to fully grieve, so that when the day comes that I have to recount this all to Charlie, I'll be able to do it with an open heart.

Now I don't like to end posts on a negative note...and since this blog is filled with lots of negative feelings, I want to finish with this thought. Although I feel a lot of hate and anger towards Adam, I have to say that he is the reason I have Charlie. He helped create her, so for that...I also love him. Not in the mushy, romantic, wish things were different kind of way. Just simply for the fact that my beautiful daughter is half of him. I would rather feel all of these things and go through everything again if it meant being able to have her in my life and in this world. She is my joy.

So for mothers or rape/abuse/domestic violence victims, if you're feeling these same things, know that you're not alone. How you are feeling is normal and healthy. You will have to work through this phase in order to move on to a happier and more joy-filled life. And yes, that life is out there for you. Find even one small thing that brings you joy; it will help you remember that there is good in this world.

There is still hope. There is still love. There is still happiness.

As a mother, you know how deep, raw and real the love you have for your child is. And would you believe that there is a God who loves you just like that? His heart breaks when your heart breaks. His eyes sparkle when your eyes sparkle. And His love is enough to heal any hurt you feel on this earth. I hope you can find peace in that. 

xoxo

Preparing To Leave You In Iowa

This time of year (especially with me leaving Iowa in just ten days) has my memories and my heart on overdrive. It was two years ago that you were conceived...a night that was awful, scary and one that I don't even remember. But amidst the darkness that overwhelmed that night, there was you; my little spark of hope. I know it might be hard for some people to understand, but I know God was there that night. If He wasn't, you wouldn't have been a part of it. I have also come to believe that it was God who was, in a way, protecting me by being sure I didn't remember what happened that night. I have glimpses of memories, but nothing concrete and I believe that is God's protective hand taking care of me.

Now fast forward a year from that time and you are here, living in happiness with your new mommy and daddy. And we are anxiously awaiting the court hearing that would terminate your biological father's parental rights. That was September 3, 2014. What a fantastic day that was for all of us...your bio father was not in the picture but he was so unpredictable that we didn't know what to expect from him. We didn't know if he'd try to show up to court that day and fight for you, or if he would continue his spree of not being involved and let the judge sign over his rights. Thankfully, he did not show and your parents could continue with the adoption process.

I was sharing these thoughts with my mom yesterday and it's just crazy that these certain dates or times of year can stir up all of the emotions again. Some of the memories are hard to think back on, but some of them are amazing and happy. Someday we will talk more in depth about all of these things because they are a part of your story. Everyone has a story, yours is already full of tales, decisions, victories and a story that is an incredible example of love. You are so surrounded by love and in turn, you are a beacon of love for us.

As I head out of the state of Iowa, I am going to stop by your house to see you one last time before I move. I'm so excited and look forward to you meeting my dad, Christian. He's driving to Ohio with me and hasn't had a chance to meet you yet since he lives in Arizona. So that will be a fun visit for all of us! I'm trying to prepare myself for how it will feel to give you that final hug and kiss goodbye. But I know that I'll be back in Iowa in November and December, so we will be sure to schedule visits and get to celebrate the holidays together. If I can focus on that, and not the sadness of leaving, I think I'll be OK.

xoxo

Innocent Third Party Heartbreak

In a moment of honest conversation the other day, my mother shared how she is still grieving the adoption of my daughter, Charlie. She told me that sometimes she'll wake up in the night, look at photos of her and just cry. But along with that, she added that it's not that she's entirely sad...she also feels joy and that she also grieves for me; watching her daughter struggle through that year filled with difficult choices, mental break downs and incredible loss. It's like this complicated mess of emotions that you can't explain with words or fully understand with your mind.

When I was pregnant and making my adoption plan, my parents stood by me the entire time. They were my support system and loved me harder than they ever have. It's beyond humbling to know just how much these people will do for me. That no matter what happens in my life, they will always lift me up and choose love. And while I know it was hard for them to stand with me, for some reason it surprised me that they were still struggling with the effects of the adoption.

When people talk about adoption, you typically only hear about the adoptive parents, the birth parents and the child who is being adopted. You rarely hear discussions about how this whole thing effects the families of those people involved. My mom, dad and brother were attached to Charlie from the moment they saw her. Probably even before they saw her. I'll never forget how warm my heart was when I saw my brother holding her for the first time....you would have thought he'd never been so in love  with another person before.

To say that my family never felt the pain I felt over the last couple of years would be false. But to counteract that, to say that my family hasn't also felt the incredible joy that I've felt would also be false. It's like they feel all of the emotions that I feel and it's been a journey for all of us. I would hope that my family would stand with me, yet again, when I say that this journey is a worthwhile one. That every part of our broken heart has been healed by the smile on Charlie's face, by the love and care we see her receiving by her parents, by being able to share in her life and by God's perfect love and grace for us all.

So when you know of a person involved with adoption, don't discount those around them. Take the time to ask how their parents are doing or how their friends are supporting them. These are all third party people who have some investment in their lives and it effects all of them. But when you are doing that, be gracious and kind. Because you never know what phase of grief they may be going through....I know that sometimes I can discuss my adoption story very openly without being too emotional, but sometimes just the thought of Charlie brings me to tears.

I'm hoping those reading this can take away from it and learn more about how adoption looks, at least from the eyes of a birth mother.

xoxo

Birth Mother's Loss

"Neither society nor the adopter who holds the child in her arms wants to confront the agony of the mother from whose arms the same child was taken." -Margaret McDonald Lawrence

I have a love/hate relationship with that quote. I love it because it helps me remember that when I tell people that I placed my daughter in an adoption, their awkward and poorly formulated responses are normal. Because who really knows how to respond to that? No one. But I hate it because I don't want Charlie's new mom to ever feel like I feel like my child was "taken" from me. She didn't take anything from me. I placed my child in her arms. So if I could have a chat with Ms Lawrence, I'd ask her to simply rephrase that last little bit of her beautiful quote. 

I have worked really hard to remain strong and positive over the last 13 months. Up until this point, I thought it'd be best if Charlie only knew me as happy and proud of my decision. But recently, after being familiarized with a term that I hadn't heard yet, I'm realizing that I have it; birth mothers loss.  

And side note to Charlie: It is my sincere intent to always be open, honest and up front with you about everything. You deserve that, and even if I tell you I need more time to give you certain answers, know that they will be known to you eventually.

So now that I'm aware of it, I've realized that it is something I'm experiencing. Not only that, but I think it's important for my daughter to know that I have been grieving and will continue to grieve the loss of being her mother. I wanted and still want to badly to be the one raising you...but I know that it would have been selfish of me to keep you because I can't give you everything you deserve. But despite me knowing that what I did was the absolute right thing...I still have pain. 

The pain can vary depending on the day, honestly. On the days leading up to a visit with you, it seems to lessen because I can look forward to getting to see you! But then the minute we get back in the car to leave, it hits me again. And on special occasions, the pain is bad...I want to experience everything with you. I want to see your awe at the Christmas tree. I want to see you shove your hand into that piece of cake and stuff it in your mouth. But here's what I want more...I want you to be with a mother and a father who love each other and have jobs stable enough to support you and all of the things you'll want to do. I want you to know just how loved you are by all of my family and your new family. And I want you to know that my choice to place you with another family was the hardest and probably will be thee hardest thing I've ever done. And I miss you. Every day. I think about you all the time. I cry for you. But I smile for you, too. It's so far beyond complicated, but I'm trying my best to explain.

So yes, as a birth mother, I do grieve the loss of my daughter. And I'm thankful that this is normal. That I'm not the first or the last to experience this. I hope that someone who is dealing with this will read this and know they're not alone.

My fear is that my daughter will feel bad for me...but I don't want her to. I want her to know that despite this pain, I am overjoyed by her life. And to also know that I'm not the only mom in this adoption who has felt loss or pain. Your adoptive mom has lost multiple children, which is why she is aware and sensitive to what I'm feeling. She is exceptional at being supportive of me. Before we left the hospital with you, her and I shared a private moment in my room and she prayed for us and for you. Her prayer was so special to me, I don't think she'll ever know how much that helped me get thru the events of handing you over to her. 

But just know that while this whole thing isn't normal, it's good. And right. And healthy. We will all be great throughout this whole thing. 

xoxo