One of Those Days That Makes it ALL Worth While...

Today was fairly amazing. As I drove to Emilia's house I thought about how I'd been feeling a bit distant from her adoptive mom--what with a baby for her and a ridiculous school schedule for me, time for "grown-up" talk seemed to evaporate when I needed it most. BUT (here come's part one of what makes it all worth while...) today Em's sister stayed at a friend's for a bit and Emilia nappen so we got a nice long chunk of time to seriously chat. Yeay! Nothing too heavy or emotional, but it felt like old times which I needed with everything so topsy tervy since Emilia was born. After an hour or so, Emilia woke up and I sat on the floor with her playing. THEN (part two!!) SHE STOOD UP ON HER OWN! For the first time ever!! Okay, for those of you who aren't birth moms, let me enlighten you into the phenominalness of this situation: birth moms, if they're lucky (and have chosen an open adoption), will hear about the big firsts (rolling over, crawling, teeth, standing up...) second hand shortly after they occur. Some don't even get that much. So the fact that Emilia was literally right next to me and stood up unsupported for the very first time is pretty revolutionary. Score one for birth moms!! Later, her sister came home and some serious tickle-fighting fun ensued which is always a good thing involving many smiles. Needless to say, today kicked major ass. :)

In the silence...

Sometimes the silence of my house at night unnerves me. I've been sitting here thinking about how I would probably miss this quietude if I had a baby now, and yet every molecule of my being wishes to hear an infants sleeping sigh, grunt, or even cry to be held. The other day I had coffee with some amazing young moms. They fed their kids and played with them, as that is their reality. They told me about dreams of full-nights rest and time to themselves, while (to borrow a quote from my dear friend Amy <3) there is "nothing to keep me from sleeping through the night" and yet I ache for it. Is it just that the grass is always greener on the other side of the fence? Or it is that having my sweet little girl has awakened a hunger in me that will not be satisfied until I'm a mom? I keep waiting for this stabbing pain to go away, or at least dull a bit, but it stays strong.

I miss Emilia, yes, but I know she's where she's meant to be- with her incredible family. Recently I find myself grieving a baby that does not yet exist. Can I really continue in this way until the boxes of my life long to-do list are checked-- finish school-- begin career-- find amazing man-- date for appropriate amount of time-- marry said man-- wait appropriate amount of time before trying for kids-- before finally reaching the box I dream most of checking? I've heard it said that holes created in your heart by grief never shrink, your heart just grows larger making them less significant, but what happens if the hole is so great my heart can't function? There are so many issues to deal with before I'll even get close to starting a family. I'm nineteen years old. Most girls my age date around for fun, worry about school, don't obsess over their future. When I next date (goodness knows when that even might be), I'll always have the thought in my mind "is he my future husband? Would he make a good dad?" That's a lot of pressure to put on a guy. Plus, whoever I care about I want to care about Emilia, but one man in her life is already unreliable, I could never introduce her to someone who might be gone tomorrow. I have so much respect for single moms dating. The issues are even more so prevalent there.

I have all these great things I want to post about adoption, but somehow only the pain comes out in my blogs. Maybe because I share the good parts every day whenever I meet people who are involved in young pregnancy and/or adoption. Some day I will share these thoughts here too. Particularly the turning point in my greif that happened on December 26th 2010. Stay tuned :)

Christmas

Every Christmas I have to the same struggle with what to get my family members and friends as the perfect gift. This year has brought even more challenge.

What do I get for the mother of my daughter that says "Thank you for raising my baby- the most important thing in my life- for loving her as your own, for waking up in the middle of the night to feed or change her, for committing your time, energy, love, patience, and sanity, to make her the person she's meant to become for the rest of her life"?

Everything I think of seems cheap. Insufficient. Insincere. Many will want to say "oh, but you've given her your first child, what more of a gift could you give than that?" But there is so much love and gratitude in my heart for this woman I didn't even know a year ago but am now so close and emotionally intertwined with I feel there must be some way to show that and thank her for being the most important person to that little girl who is most important to me. I know she'll love whatever I chose I just want it to be perfect!

Mondays :)

Yesterdays visit went significantly better than expected. It was actually quite lovely. I got to play with Emilia's big sister and her friend a bunch. We made paper snowflake which is one of my favorite past times. There was that little twinge of sadness yet again when Em won't really smile at me. She's teething and going through a growth spurt so she's less smiley these days. One of my dear friends came to meet my little lady for the first time. That pretty much made my day because she's the one who carried me through my pregnancy, introduced me to the adoptive parents, and never left my side despite her own three kids and pregnancy. Her youngest, who is three months older than Emi, came along as well which was pretty adorable. I'm not sure she's ever seen someone her own size (well, I bit smaller. My little lady's not so little =] She's going to be a nice long swimmer some day). It was very cute. Plus my friend told me she saw the resemblance between Emilia and me which is a big deal because 1) her birth-daddy is a Mexican who's genes tend to dominate my poor little caucasian ones, and 2) that is the greatest thing you could ever say to a birth-mom! Anyways, all and all it was a delightful day. Can't wait for next week's rollercoaster.

Mondays...

I'm sort of dreading todays visit. 


Last time I went over I saw their four perfect stockings hanging on the mantle. It was all their tradition. This is what I wanted for my baby. This is what I still want with every fiber of my being-- for her to grow up with an awesome mom and day who love each other and have a healthy example of a relationship. For them to raise her and her sister with their own strong, loving, amazing, functional family. For them to grow up and have their traditions, fights, celebrations, tears, love, all in each others arms. That being said, it absolutely KILLS ME. It kills me that she won't be part of the family and traditions I was raised to love. How is it possible for everything in me to want two completely conflicting things? Things that can not possibly co-exist peacefully in this world?


 Today I was looking at pictures Emilia's birth father and I took with her and she has this same expression in all of them. Sort of like "who the hell are these people trying to pass us off as some happy little family"?  Then I look at pictures of her while she's with her real family going on their Christmas tradition tree-cutting adventure and she's so happy and smiling and awake. Somehow it seems whenever I'm even over there she's asleep most of the time. Granted her mom said it took her several days to recover from the tree day because she only got 15 minute naps instead of a couple hours but why does she push (okay, I know that's an unnecessarily harsh word choice but you get my drift) Emilia to stay awake for things like that but not me? Even while I'm writing this I know I would NEVER want her to make my little lady grumpy  and sleep deprived its just... I'm not sure. Jealousy? Bitterness? Emptiness? A dash of each? Who knows. 


Why do I let something so insignificant like a giant sock on a fireplace make me hurt so deep inside my heart I didn't even know it was possible? I'm hoping tomorrow will go more smoothly than last week inside this crazy, emotional head of mine. I am so excited to see my daughter and her family. It makes me so happy and I just feel at peace with all my decisions up to this point. It's like a weekly reminder I chose the right path for my daughter. The only crap part is this gut-wrenching feeling that hitchhikes alongside my happiness. Will that ever go away or at least hurt less? 

Bad Day

Today is a normal day. I'm not doing anything different. The sun is shining and I've been able to relax all morning and do all the things I like. All and all it should be a good day. But I miss my baby. I'm not sure why today of all days, but I miss her more than ever. It's so easy for me to lay in bed, look at pictures of her, run over every second I've spent with her, wonder what she's doing right now. It's so easy to turn to my old "supports" who never really held me up that well. I usually try to put some happy spin on the pain, but to be honest, days like this suck beyond belief. And of course the stupid diaper or pregnancy test type commercials keep taunting me. It is exhausting to be mature and okay with this all the time when it is a million times more painful than giving birth or anything else I've ever experienced. That's not to say I don't believe 100% I chose the right path for me and my daughter but on days like this it absolutely blows. All I can do is get through today, hope tomorrow is better, and remember I get to see my sweet, happy baby girl in a mere three days.

Adoptive Moms, Birth Moms, Moms moms...

For some reason the hardest time to see Emilia is with my mom. My latest theory is that when it's just me visiting I can sort of pretend that a) I am old enough to have had a kid so it's not as weird; b) I get her all to myself; or c) it's easier to see her as her adoptive mom's kid instead of my mom's biological granddaughter. When it really hits me that the decision I  made effects my entire family (on top of her birth-father's family) it multiplies the grief tenfold. I'm the type of person who feels the emotions of the people around her so all of that weighing down on me . The only thing that makes it all bearable is that Emilia's adoptive mom is like me and feels everyone's emotions so she noticed almost immediately when I was upset that day, asked if I was okay, and made sure I had some time with Emi. What would I ever do without her?