Sunday, April 25, 2010

Wrestle

I'm finding I don't have a lot to say in a reasonable format beyond what I do on Mondays and Tuesdays. So much of what I have to say has a ring of judgment to it, and I don't want that to be what comes across on the page. In particular, I'm thinking a lot lately about our adoption and what adoption means and how it's not all sunshine and roses, how much of what I post to our adoption blog makes adoption sound 100% positive for all involved, and I don't think I should do that. This isn't just a story about us as parents. We are number forty-one on our agency's waiting list now, and while it is exciting to us because we will finally have a baby to put in all these baby clothes I've bought on clearance, at the same time it means that we are forty-one tragedies away from our little girl. Forty-one broken dreams, broken hearts, broken families. I will not be our girl's first mother, and if the world were fair and just, I wouldn't be her second mother. She'd only need one. I grieve that loss. I wonder what kind of terrible person can get so excited about the opportunity to put a really cute dress on a really cute baby when it means that to do that, something horrible must happen to bring her to our arms. I wrestle with that. I read everything I can so I can do my very best to mother her in a way that will soothe her loss in some small way. I am not looking for reassurance here; I am just saying that this is what I am thinking about, reading about, praying about, grappling with. It is hard, but it is good.

4 comments:

daysgoby said...

But you are in no way, shape, or form causing that distress! Instead, you are giving her a life that her mother/father/guardian could only dream she'd be chosen to have.

Liz said...

I'm more worried about the people who don't think about the loss that is the flip side of adoption...

Liz said...

I'm more worried about the people who don't think about the loss that is the flip side of adoption...I still wrestle with these issues.

Joan said...

I am proud of you on so many levels. This entry touched Dad and I. Even as a small girl, you had the gift of mercy. It's that gift that makes you grieve the loss of Nola's birth family. I know that you and Jarod will parent her in the best possible way. While we also eagerly await her arrival, that eagerness is tempered by the knowledge that there is heartache with it. I love you!
Mom