I remember sitting in my bedroom, the small room smooshed between the small living room in front and the small kitchen in back. I remember sobbing uncontrollably, holding my round belly with both hands, caressing my little one while she dozed in her peaceful bed.
Dear Birthmother, We are more equipped to raise your baby than you are. We have more money and more love to give. You can fill a hole in our lives by ripping one in your heart. And you will do it because you are desperate. You are a pawn on our chess board, and you do not matter. Sincerely, The Parents Your Child Deserves
I sent this year's dumb letter in the mail yesterday. It was probably the lamest dumb letter I’ve written them, especially compared to last year’s emotional keening about Summer’s Middle Eastern roots and the fears I have for her in Trump’s Muslim-hating America. I should have known better than to get emotional – they didn’t… Continue reading Dumb Letters…and Cookies
I’m in it right now. It’s not words – there aren’t even words to describe it or personify it or explain it, really. But words are all I have for expression, so I’ll try. I feel flat: without shape or depth. I feel numb: without feeling or heart. I feel empty: without substance or worth.… Continue reading In It: Feeling Adoption Loss at Christmastime
We've all heard it: a picture says a thousand words. But what are those words? It's easy to assume that those words are the thoughts you have about the picture, but that's not the case. Everyone who looks at a picture will imbue it with their personal views, their experiences, their biases, their emotions. The… Continue reading The Thousand Words of a Picture