Firsts

For the first six months of Frog's life, I went to the bookstore every month to read the applicable chapter of What to Expect the First Year to get an idea of what he was doing that month. I saw pictures and things from his parents, but i never really felt like I knew what was going on with him that month. My vision of his life was fragmented and abstract, like I was getting pictures from different babies of varying ages who didn't really link together very well. I still feel that way about it.

Anyway, I have no idea what is age appropriate, and what milestones he should be reaching when. I quit checking up at the bookstore.

Apparently he said his first full sentence a couple weeks ago (maybe a week ago, they have never given dates of milestones, which I find irritating - what if I was keeping a baby book of those kinds of things? I should just ask). "I want yummies," apparently, which I find find hilarious. There wasn't enough food in the world to keep me full when I was pregnant. I never had any cravings or anything, but I would eat almost anything (as long as it didn't have refried beans or guacamole in it). They also mentioned that one of his first words was yummies.

My grandparents were going on a cruise while I was pregnant, and I remember being so jealous because, ALL THAT FOOD. They could eat whenever they wanted, without having to pay for it every single time!

Anyway, I guess all of this is to say that I'm glad I can pretend that all that hunger (I was perfectly well fed, so that wasn't a thing) while I was pregnant had some bearing on his current life. I don't really think he looks like me or Ham, so I tend to cling to anything that seems to link us even remotely.

I Failed to Mention

Visit was postponed until tomorrow. For sure this time!

They had strep (first parents, then kids) the previous two attempts to meet. So, after my freak-out post last time, you'd think I was feeling even worse off, maybe?

I feel fine. They seem excited and truly apologetic about having to put it off. The visit is still only two hours, but I'm feeling more interested in making the most of the visit rather than second-guessing all of their (supposed) ulterior motives.

Plus, I am going to let them know tomorrow that we are moving out of state this summer. Which, that is a whole other post about my conflicting feelings and things.

edited to add: We didn't move out of the state - Ham found a job here just in the nick of time.

So, I have a visit this Saturday. I mean, I guess. Whatever.

I have a visit this Saturday. I would be excited, except that I'm terrified they are going to "break up with me," so to speak.

Before, when I've asked for a visit, one has been arranged within the next month. All of our previous visits have been at my parents' home, on a Sunday. We have dinner, and then we spend a couple hours sitting around talking. After dinner, Frog and his brother get bored, because my parents' youngest is 15 and their house is not really equipped for little kids anymore. Usually we can scrounge up some colored pencils and paper, and maybe 2-3 toys from my brothers' childhood, but that's about it. Not the most exciting evening for them, and yet the visits last 3+ hours.

So, back at the beginning of January, I decided to do something a little different. My mom suggested meeting up with them at the local Children's Museum on a Saturday morning, rather than a Sunday evening. Great! The boys will be entertained, and Frog and his brother (probably) won't spend the whole time being bored and waiting to go home.

I asked them about it. They thought it sounded like a great idea too! But, it would have to be either the last Saturday in February or the first Saturday in March. Which, okay. Longer than I am accustomed to having to wait, but by no means months and months away. I, obviously, chose this Saturday, since it was sooner and I am impatient. So I wrote back and told them which Saturday worked better for me, and they said okay, but, D (adoptive dad) might be travelling in the next couple months, so, we might have to cancel on short notice. Again, no problem, but slightly less concrete-ness than I am used to. "Oh, and also," they said, "we have to leave for home around 12:30." ...Alright, then, since the museum doesn't open till 10, that still gives us two and a half hours. Shorter than normal, but it's something, right? Maybe they will suggest breakfast beforehand, I thought. Nope. They said they would meet me at the museum at 10:30.

Now, maybe I just timed my visit request really poorly. That is okay, and bound to happen at some point. Logically, I can understand it. Plus, it's more than other birthmoms I know get, so I really shouldn't be complaining, at all.

However, the unlogical, emotional side of me is panicking. Combine the difference in visit length/scheduling issues with the fact that they have never once been the ones to ask for a visit plus the fact that I now get pictures once every three months (if I'm lucky) and you get a whole lot of worry on my part. Did I do something wrong the last time we got together? Is there some kind of jealousy issue concerning Frog's older brother (closed adoption - they send pictures once a year)? I'm racking my brain trying to come up with every possible explanation. Their emails these past two months have been warm and friendly, I don't get the feeling I've offended them. Why can't they just tell me what the problem is??

What it really seems to be coming down to, though, is just a lack of interest on their part. I don't think that they see the value of having an open relationship with me. And, frankly, thanks to that, I'm not sure I do. There is no point in trying to force a relationship they aren't particularly interested in. If and when Frog has questions, I highly doubt they are going to tell him to ask me himself, no matter how often I force myself into their lives.

There is the chance I am way off base here. I have all of four (recent) emails off which I am basing the majority of my perceived slights, so the margin for potential error is pretty high. Besides, I'm getting my visit, with relatively little trouble or worry. What do I have to complain about?

I mean, aside from the fact that they could take me or leave me, or that fact that they could break off contact at any point, with or without logical reason, and that I'm afraid they might just do that.

I Forget

Every so often I'll think of something I would like to write out (for myself), and then I plan my words in my head, and then I fall asleep, or something, and when I wake up, I've forgotten it. Ergo, not a whole lot of healing going on around here. (What? Healing? I'm a year and a half out! I should be healed! Snerk.) Nope, definitely don't feel "healed" yet. A big part of that is that I don't talk about it. Period.

A few months ago was the last time I tried, and instead of words coming out, I cried so hard I couldn't breathe for, like, two hours. So, I quit. I don't talk about my experience anymore. I listen, and I think, and (rarely, obviously) I write about it. I'll respond, when someone asks me something, and I visit with Frog and his family occasionally (this Saturday being one of those Looming Visits). But that's about it. My husband (and birthfather of my baby, for those of you who didn't catch that a couple posts ago) has completely disassociated from it, and therefore, if we are going to talk about it (we don't) it's up to me to bring it up. Conversations we have about it result in nothing of substance - there is no way I can make him "feel" at this point, and trying is fruitless and just ends up hurting worse. In fact, he won't be attending this visit with me. He doesn't have any interest in going, and I'd rather bring someone who actively wants to come, like my mom.

So, yeah. No talking about it. I did speak at a church-sanctioned meeting about the "Blessings of Adoption in My Life" back in November, but that was it.

Part of the problem is that I'm no longer interested in talking about it, and I can't remember it well enough to relive it and force interest (if that makes any sense).

I'm not sure what the point of my writing this was. I'm not in a place (mentally) where I'm totally comfortable with the choice I made, and I'm not sure how to get myself comfortable with it. Maybe I am content, and I just can't tell. As in, this is is good as it gets, and I shouldn't hold my breath for the puppies and rainbows of open adoption? I'm not sure.

Can we please call it something else??

I'm probably the person who reacts like this, but the word "placement" totally throws me for a loop. I get chills, I get goosebumps, my skin crawls every time I hear the word "placement" in any context. Especially, of course, when it relates to adoption, but I get it to some degree every single time. I can't stand it. Not because of any subtle connotations or anything, like various other adoption phrasings (most don't bother me at all, I'm not picky re: birthmom vs. first mom, etc.) but probably just because the single most horrible day of my life was "placement day."

Even worse is when I hear about a placement that is happening soon - I can't stop thinking about it until I hear how it went. I torture myself. I usually don't know the people involved, so it's not like I have a vested interest, I just replay my own experience in my mind over and over and shudder whenever the word "place" crosses my mind.

Of course, calling it anything else would do no good, it would just ruin another word for me.

Blurgh, I'm so tired of horrible demon memories. It seems like the only memories I have are bad ones. Stupid mostly-closed adoption! This was not my choice!

A year!

It's been exactly a year! Well, a year and a day. Exactly a year ago, he was with me, though. Which is kind of weird for me to think about. Exactly a year ago tomorrow is the last day I had him. I'm not looking forward to it so much...I took his birthday and placement day off. Yesterday wasn't quite as tough as I was thinking it would be, but I was glad I took it off anyway. I wouldn't want to have gotten there and been a mess the whole time.

I guess I haven't written anything here in a really long time. I got married! To the birthfather, interestingy enough.

I always told myself when I was pregnant that if I thought there was anyway he and I could work things out and be together, I wouldn't have to place. I did, and we worked things out anyway. At first that was really tough, because I started doubting everything I had done, but I came to terms with it eventually. I don't regret anything anymore, but I do wish circumstances had been different.

Anyway, I'm going to try and write more. The initial shock has worn off somewhat, so I'm feeling less wordy and connected than I was when I used to write, but I do want to try.

Surprise! I Wrote Something

When I first started this blog, I was pretty sure I was filled with all kinds of wisdom about how adoption should worked. I thought I would find all kinds of things to write about that would "change" things and make everything all better. I don't think I ever had that thought specifically, it was kind of just a general feeling about the whole thing. Now it's been, what, like two months since the last time I wrote? Longer since the last time I wrote anything I actually liked. I'm feeling rather uninspired about the whole thing, and anytime I think about it longer than a couple minutes I find something more...pleasant, I guess, to distract myself with. 

At the time, it was all very rewarding and exciting. I was doing something awesome for everyone involved. I didn't even have to be actively doing anything, being pregnant was enough. It wasn't necessarily  fun, but it was rewarding. 

And now I have this. I do nothing, I sit around and I wait. If it's been too long since I've heard from them, I send them a quick email to find out how they're doing and let them know I'm still interested. And then I wait some more. He's only 5 months old, so he isn't quite asking questions yet. Until then I guess there won't be much required of me. And maybe not even then, I don't know what things will be like by the time he does start asking. 

There are all kinds of things I could be doing, I guess. I could be working on the scrapbook I started when he was four days old. After a couple days I put it down and I haven't picked it up since. I could be writing letters to him in the back of my journal, but it's been a long time since I did that, too. It isn't that there isn't anything to say. I have plenty of things I could write, but I don't. 

It is entirely possible that most of this is stemming from the fact that I haven't done anything for him or his family for Christmas yet. I've been thinking about it constantly for two months and I haven't come up with anything. Maybe I'm just trying to come up with something that is both meaningful AND that he will really enjoy, either now or sometime in the near future. 

We'll see how things go, I guess. 

4 Months

I haven't written anything worth posting in a very long time, it seems like. It's been kind of a huge couple months, so I guess it's not entirely my fault. None of the hugeness is directly adoption related, so I don't want to write much about it here.

I think part of my problem is that I'm avoiding almost anything that hurts. There are several adoption-related blogs that I read, but lately I've found myself skimming them before I read them just to make sure there isn't anything in them that will hit home for me. If there isn't, I read it and move on. If there is, I skip it and forget about it completely. Saying I want nothing to do with anything adoption-related feels selfish and unfair of me, and I can't figure out why I feel that way. I don't let myself think about it long enough to learn anything about the way I'm feeling. I am not sure if that's me healing and being content, or if that's me shutting out the hard stuff and trying to forget.

Either way, I'm not sure I'm happy about it. I wish that there was one right answer for everyone, just so someone could tell me exactly what I am supposed to be feeling at this point.

There is a chance that the birthfather will get to meet the Frog next weekend. I am filled with nervousness and apprehension and hope. But not too much hope; I wasn't able to give the family much notice that he would be in town, and Thanksgiving weekend is kind of a busy one...I guess we'll see what happens.

100 Days

It's been 100 days since he was born. I remember very clearly  thinking last April that I would never be here, it was much too far away. The last month of my pregnancy went by way faster than I was expecting. The first week after he was born dragged on and on, I thought it would never be over. Time has flown since then. It's what I hoped would happen, but it's kind of sad. Things don't hurt like they used to. It seems like that should be a good thing, but instead it just feels like I'm forgetting. I'm not, because I never could. I don't cry like I used to, and I don't miss him like I used to. He's different from the way he was when I had him. He's older, and he doesn't know me now. He doesn't need me now. I still miss the way he was in the hospital, but I don't know him well enough to be able to really miss him like that now. 

The rest of it is just...different. I didn't know what to expect back then. I don't know what to expect 6 months or a year or two years down the road. I didn't know how I'd be doing with it 3 months after placement. It's nice to finally be here, but I can't help wonder what it's going to be like next. 

The Visit Went Well!

Not really sure what to say about it yet. There were tears, but I tried really hard! It was fun and comfortable and relaxed. He's so big now. And different. I don't know him anymore. 

I would be willing to do it again, I enjoyed it a lot. I panicked for nothing, but that is usually the case. 

Crying

I have recently realized that I do everything I can to avoid thinking about the first few days after placement. Anytime I start to remember I find something else and focus on it so intensely it's impossible to think of anything else. I find myself doing the same thing anytime I start to cry. I don't know if it's healthy or not, but I don't know how to fix it. I've tried just letting myself cry, but I can't.

I did cry last night as everyone was leaving. I felt a little awkward about it, but that was the first time in a while I actually couldn't stop it. It didn't last long, though.

The visit overall went really well, I think. Everyone seemed fairly comfortable. I haven't really talked about with them and I doubt I will, except just to let them know I enjoyed it and I liked seeing them and I would be willing to do it again, if they wanted to.

I Have A Visit!

I met with the adoptive parents last Friday to talk about maybe seeing their family. They are coming for dinner this Sunday evening.

I'm pretty sure I don't know how to explain how it's been to be simultaneously so terrified and so excited. I will consider and get back to you on that one. 

It's only WEDNESDAY. I'm torn between wanting this next week to be over and wanting it to last a very long time. I have no idea what next Monday is going to be like at all - all I really have to go on is what it felt like after placement, and I'm sure that won't be ENTIRELY accurate. Right?

I have told myself I have to see them only twice - once to see what it's like the first time and again to see if it's going to be that hard every time. (I'm expecting it to be pretty hard, in case you couldn't already tell. TERRIFIED.)

I will be spending the next four days expecting the Internet to prepare me adequately. I'm sure it will fail, but I can try, right?

Day to Day

I've been feeling kind of out of things lately. I'm not sure what the problem is, or if there even is a problem. I'm just feeling kind of...I'm not sure how to word it. It feels like I'm moving on with my life, but it feels too soon. I'm nervous that the longer I feel like this, the worse it's going to hit me when I realize it all over again. I have been avoiding anything that reminds me of the fact that I placed, which is stupid. It's not like it's going to go away. I'm not sure what my deal is. Just letting you know I have more things to say, I'm just having a really hard time doing it right now. 

An Introduction of Things

I am not really sure where to start with this whole thing, so maybe the word "introduction" is misleading. I will explain things a tiny bit, but after that I will just jump right in.

I'm 19 years old. I had a baby in July of 2008. Two days later, I placed my son with a loving adoptive family. It's an open adoption and I get letters and pictures from them about once a week. I met them once before we did the placement, back in May. I received a lot of letters from them even before he was born. It hurt sometimes to know that they were so excited, but I feel like they also understood better than most adoptive families that it was still going to be hard for me. They mentioned more than once how hard it was to know that the only way they would have children was at someone else's huge emotional expense. Knowing this didn't make my experience any easier, but it was somehow comforting (in a way) to know they were dealing with their own kind of grief.

The first two days after placement were probably the worst days of my life. I admit that I've had a pretty easy life - my parents have always met all my needs, our family lives very comfortably, I haven't wanted for much in my life. Nobody close to me has died unexpectedly. Maybe because of that, I have never felt such an intense need or want or sadness as I did those two days. I had spent the nine months before he was born doing everything I could to give him the best chance at life. I spent those nine months thinking only of him and what would be best for him. I knew how important my dad was in my life, and I knew that more than anything I wanted that for my little boy. After he was born and he was with his adoptive family, I felt like I could finally look at myself and realize what I had lost. I knew he was healthy and happy and being taken care of, and I could let myself be selfish for a little while. Those two days I only thought about him and how amazing he was and how sad I was that I couldn't be the one enjoying it. I still let myself think like that on occasion, but I also let myself feel good about the decision I made. I honestly don't believe I could have chosen a better family for my baby. Obviously, it's only been a month, so we will have to see if I still feel that way as he gets older.

I have read stories from other women who have placed their babies and felt like they were forced to do so. I admit that there was a lot of pressure to place. Not necessarily from the agency or my parents, but from statistics on single mothers that I found on my own and that kind of thing. However, I never once felt like my support people would have looked down on me had I decided to keep my baby. Least of all my parents. I kept him in the room with me the two days I was in the hospital, and my mom stayed with me the whole time. I know she loved him almost as much as I did. In a lot of conversations we've had since, I've found that we have the same feelings about how things turned out. If only this situation had been different, then we could have kept him. I thought I would be the only one having those kinds of thoughts, but I know I'm not. I do realize that this grief I have is mine and mine alone, but I know that my mom feels some of it too. That helps me a lot. It's comforting to know I'm not completely alone in this, and that my pain is not unfounded.

The last thing I want to address is the fact that I am a mother. Just because I'm not the one raising my baby doesn't mean I don't understand what it is to be a mother. Motherhood is (at least a tiny bit) about giving everything you have to give your children, and I did that. My decision to place him was not an easy one by any stretch of the imagination. The pain comes and goes in varying intensities now, and I don't think it will ever be gone completely. However, I am still able to feel good about my decision. Not "good" as in I feel like a hero, like I gave some kind of amazing gift and that makes me an awesome person. I feel comfortable with my experience and situation. I feel a very deep level of peace with my decision. My decision was right for me, and I don't expect to be able to convey my feelings to someone else. I am still doing everything I can to make sure my baby doesn't ever feel like I didn't want him, or I didn't love him, or anything negative from me.

Just because I chose to put myself through this pain doesn't mean it was the wrong decision. I didn't do it for the recognition, I think we all know there is too little of that to go around. The family I chose loves me and loves my baby. I couldn't possibly ask for more from them.