almost six months old
January 22, 2013 § 9 Comments
I’ve gotten a lot of readership and found some interesting people since Claudia submitted one of my posts to Best of Open Adoption Blogs 2012. I remember I used to be amazed at having even 65 views in a week, and now I have more hits in a day than that.
I have seriously mixed feelings about the whole thing. I’m so surprised at how nice people are and I’m glad other people have taken the time to read my writing, but I wish it was about something happier. I don’t want to be a “birthmother blog.” It was never some sort of ambition of mine. It still isn’t. The only positive thing I can say is that being able to write about it (no matter how much it makes me cry) is a sign of progress. It took five or six weeks before I could put any of my feelings into writing. I had no words for what I felt. I couldn’t imagine putting a pen to paper and telling my story, because it was one that I couldn’t process and understand. I was so numb and felt physically pained and weak. My eyes felt burned raw. I still feel that way a lot of the time and the ugliness of it still tears, but the fact that I’ve written about it has sorted things out. I have words, and that’s something! It means that it matters.
One day in September, I was supposed to meet a friend at the park, and the park turned out to be crowded with literally hundreds of people. There was both a suicide prevention awareness thing and a cancer walk. My phone died and I had no idea where she was, so I sat on the grass and started writing in my notebook the first three posts of this blog.
It must seem like I enjoy whining and feeling sorry for myself, but I wish none of this was a part of my life. I’m grateful for having this place where these emotions may be relegated, but I don’t want this blog. I never wanted to understand this kind of loss. I never wanted to be strong, although that isn’t a descriptor I would use for myself. I definitely never wanted to be a part of “the adoption community.” I just want you! I just wish my life was how it naturally would be.
After I received pictures of you at three months, I had maybe a month of peace and comfort, the first sense of relief from continual anxiety. It was easier to think of you and the life you are having. I just hope you are happy and you don’t miss me. Now that six months is quickly approaching, the anxiety has been too. I’m so scared I won’t see you again. I hope this time I get more than just 7 pictures, which weren’t even dated. I hope I get to hear about how you’re doing this time. I hope the update is detailed and more than a page long. I know that’s way too much to expect. But I would feel really disrespected to read a summary of your first six months of life in a few paragraphs. Who am I kidding though? I’m positive I will be disappointed.
You must be so big now, cutie. According to the internet, you are probably more than 15 pounds! You must be sitting up all by yourself. You can probably roll around from your back to your stomach. I bet you can sleep throughout the night now, like a good boy. Your eyes should be their real color now. You’ll be eating solid food soon. You probably laugh and smile and babble. I really wish I could see that.
I’m not expecting much, or trying not to. Last week, on the first day of the semester, I was rummaging through my desk drawers and I was grabbing some blank notebook paper when I saw a letter from C and L. I really need to go through my desk drawers and organize things, so I don’t have more nasty surprises. I have the tendency to just throw shit in there. The letter from them was short, but they said they were glad things seemed to be going well, and they talked about getting the nursery ready and buying clothes for the first year. They ended the letter with, “We can’t wait to meet our baby.”
I was pregnant, thank you very much.