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’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
My regrets come from clarity in hindsight. And they are numerous.
