I wanted to take the time to say thank you to everyone in the blog-o-sphere who has offered their support during this time. And although only two people in my real life even know about this blog, I feel compelled to thank all of my friends and family who have been so incredibly thoughtful. I appreciate every hug – real or virtual; every email; every letter; every text message; every spur of the moment lunch date; every distracting get-together that helped take my mind off the sadness.
When I first found out that the match had failed, I felt incredibly stupid for having believed it might have been successful in the first place, and regretted that I told anyone about it (including writing about it in this post). Even though we hadn’t told many people about the match, it seemed an overwhelming chore to inform everyone of the eventual outcome.
Shortly after getting the news, we received a letter from a friend that affected us deeply. Her kind words helped us reframe the emotions we were experiencing, and gave us a new perspective on things. It struck me as I read the letter that its sentiment can extend to all members of the adoption triad. Though it does have its joyous moments, there is no denying that adoption is a difficult process that often emerges from a place of loss and grief – both for the birth family, as well as the adoptive family. I’d like to share a bit of the letter we received:
“I believe that the love that brought you to desire this child and the love that already bonded you to him or her is something of extraordinary worth. The grief that is born of that love is a reflection of who you both are and your courage in being willing to feel it is an inspiration to everyone who knows you.”
Beautiful.
Enough with the tears and sadness...today brings a fresh start and a new perspective. I’m going to dust myself off, find my hope, and start thinking positively again. I will not let one person without integrity sour my view on adoption and this process. I refuse to give her the power. I.just.won’t.
So – a musical pause to regroup and get my bearings.
I love The Be Good Tanyas. I know they have been around for a long time, but they are relatively new to me. I was at work this morning, listening to my ipod, and their song “Ootischenia” started playing. I absolutely love that song, but had never really paid attention to the lyrics. A few lines caught my attention, so I went to their website to find the actual lyrics. While there, I saw the lyrics to another song of theirs that helped me turn the corner.
Okay…first I sobbed like a little baby (I mean full on, snot-dripping-down-my-face, my-work-colleagues-must-have-thought-I-was-losin’-it crying) and then I turned the corner.
The song says everything I feel – about the baby we thought would join our family, and the baby that will hopefully one day be matched with us. And so, here are lyrics to that sweet little song. I’m sure I’m not the only one who can relate.
A Little Blues
The Be Good Tanyas
(© Parton)
Well here I am undone again
I know I’ll see you I just don’t know when
Little stars all a-twinkling
I wonder where you are
I wonder what you’re thinking
I know I gave my heart a little soon
I walk for miles underneath the moon
I’ll sing this sad lonesome little tune
For you
Little patch of grass under the overpass
I’ll rest for hours amid the flowers
Just a tiny bird with a little song
And when the sun comes up
I’ll be long gone.
Our match is now officially a mis-match.
After speaking with her on the phone several times, and planning a trip out to meet her, we found out yesterday afternoon that the birthmom was actually working with several agencies in several states, receiving duplicate payments to cover her monthly expenses from many couples through many agencies. I do realize that this is a unique situation, and is by no means representative of the majority of amazing birth moms out there who make hard decisions in the best interests of their children, but I can’t help but feel jaded by the experience. We are glad that we learned about it all now (rather than showing up at the hospital for the birth of the baby along with at least one other couple who thinks they will be taking the baby home, too), but when it’s the one thing you have wanted and worked toward for so long, it’s hard to see the silver lining or understand any of it.
We are trying to figure out what to do next. I’m precariously close to giving up. It would have been hard to find out that she decided to parent her child – but I would have ultimately understood, and respected, that decision. This I don’t understand. I don’t understand how anyone can treat their child like a commodity. I don’t understand why it has to be so hard for us to start a family every step of the way. I don’t understand why this situation had to happen to us. I don’t understand how someone can be so cold-hearted, and deliberately prey on the emotions and vulnerabilities of others. I don’t know how I will trust anyone ever again in any type of potential adoption situation.
I feel like I’m the punchline to some cosmic joke. Needless to say we’re devastated.
I had allowed myself to start planning a nursery. We had discussed possible names. We had told close family members, and given ourselves permission to feel some measure of excitement and joy. Now I’m carefully packing it all away – the names, the paint chips, the talk of baby showers, the love we had already started to feel for the little one…
I’m gutted.
