Revelation

“In the space between yes and no, there's a lifetime. It's the difference between the path you walk and the one you leave behind; it's the gap between who you thought you could be and who you really are; its the legroom for the lies you'll tell yourself in the future.” 
― Jodi Picoult, Change of Heart

Time has been on my mind lately.  Not just time, though, but also how things change.  And how in some instance time moves faster than a mountain storm in the spring.  You know, the kind of storm that you are desperate for because it washes away the last of the snow and you know that just behind the storm is the warmth?  I love storms in the spring.  Time moves the fastest when what you are experiencing is the easiest.  And the flip side of that is true, as we’ve all experienced, that time moves the slowest when you are in the most pain.  It’s in the moments of the most growth that a lifetime can be lived, the same moments that are the hardest to bear.  

I've been reminded lately of someone that I used to be.  I acutely remember the first year after Baby Boy was born.  I was a mess and I was afraid to let others see me that way.  I was more concerned about preserving the feelings of others and not scaring them with my feelings than feeling my own feelings.  Everything I felt was so confused that to even let my thoughts wander a brief moment felt like I would be drowned from the inside.  I was afraid of everything.  I didn't trust anyone.  And when I did, I put my trust in the wrong people and only more pain ensued.  It felt like the whole world was a giant injustice and I wanted to fight against all of it and so I let myself be angry.  And the source of all my anger was my fear and my hurt but I didn't want to face it because it hurt too much.  I felt abandoned and like I abandoned my baby.  Try and wrap your mind around that.  I hated myself.  I hated love.  I hated happy families.  I hated God.  I hated religion.  I hated anything that made me feel.  I lost myself in my work for all the wrong reasons.  I didn't want to be left alone.  I couldn't stand to be alone with myself because it was when I was alone that I had to be in my own company and I didn't know what to do with myself.  I smiled at the world for their benefit because I didn't want pity and so it was easier to pretend only pretending made me angrier.  I felt desperate in everything I tried to do.  I put so much pressure on myself and if I fell short of the ridiculous expectations I set for myself then I hated myself even more.  I was mean to myself.  And I believed that all that I felt (all that I've explained here) was my punishment for the rest of my life for my indiscretions against God.  And so, I resolved to just survive.  Basically, I set myself up to fail.

It’s been nearly 4 years since “my” little boy was born.  It’s been nearly 3 years since after that first year away from him.  It feels like a lifetime.  And I’m not the same person that I was during that first year.  This post is for the new birth-mothers out there and anyone else who feels like they've lost themselves.  To the birth-mothers particularly, I remember what it feels like to hear the cry of your child in the middle of the night, only to wake up and find that your child isn't there.  I remember what it feels like to feel like you are losing yourself in a grief you don’t even know how to begin to understand.  And I can tell you, that you will find yourself.  One way or another, you will find yourself. 

I think I've found myself, most of me anyways.  It’s been a long time coming.  I don’t necessarily know how it happened either because it hasn't been a smooth process.  What I do know is that trying to find myself has been a constantly active choice.  I've slipped up more than once (there was actually 2.5 years of constantly slipping).  It’s been frustrating and has felt hopeless at times.  And then something shifted and all of a sudden “it” was obvious, but still without a road map.  You just “know”.  You catch yourself in your patterns of negativity and you realize that there is a different way to do things and so you start there.  I think that one thing that people forget about the grief cycle is that it is very much a cycle and there is a rhythm to it.  And each rhythm for each person is as unique as our fingerprints.  I finally figured out my rhythm.  Once you figure out your rhythm, the next step is to actively decide whether or not you are going to let the negative part of the cycle consume you, or if you are going to consider and recognize how much softer the blow “this” time around feels.  And it does get softer.  I promise it gets softer.

I am stubborn and my stubbornness, for a long time, was something that I used against myself.  Now, I use it to help myself.  I’m compassionate.  This is something I've always been and I allowed it to be used against me (not actively allowed it, but naively and truly not knowing any better).  Finally one day I decided that I would protect and advocate for myself like I protect and advocate for others.  What does this mean?  It means that I can still be compassionate towards others but not at the expense of myself.  Another thing I've learned is to accept what “part” of a mess is mine and not the whole mess.  I still get in sticky situations with people, only now I don’t apologize for their part of it, only my own.  I think it’s easy to use our bad experiences as crutches to life.  It’s easy to tell ourselves that we can’t do something and believe it because believing in our weaknesses is always an easier alternative to fighting for the sacred “something” we find every excuse not to go for.  After placement of Baby Boy, I found every excuse not to do things.  And now, I’m trying to find the reasons why I should do things.  It’s such a simple thing to say, and a lot of you out there are probably thinking, “duh.”  But, for me this was a huge understanding.

There is no recipe for finding yourself.  I truly wish there was because I think there would be a lot less hurt in the world.  Who do you want to be?  The only difference between that person and who you think you are now, is yourself.  As much as I wanted to believe for a time that the “thing” holding me back was the choices of those who used me or hurt me, what I finally realized is that it wasn't them.  Granted, they weren't helping me, but I was allowing “them” to use me.  I now realize that I command the caliber of people I allow in my life.  Old habits die hard, but there is a reason why habits die off. 

We've all been given one lifetime to live, but in the course of our one lifetime we adapt to time and circumstance too many times to count.  And the choices we make in the most desperate of times are the ones that shape our future.  And in that way, our one lifetime can become several.  And that’s a beautiful thing if you think about it.  Our circumstances, our sorrows, our angers, our hurts, our destruction's, our negative beliefs, none of those have to be the life we choose for ourselves.  And it’s in this way that within our one lifetime we can live as many lifetimes as we choose.  The choice is yours.  You have control of it.  You command your life.  If something isn't working for you, you have the power to change it.  No one says you have to live the life you've been given by circumstance or bad choices.  You can make your life what you want it to be.  If you told me this four years ago, I wouldn't have believed you.  Four years ago, I would have told you all the reasons why that truth (making my life what I want it to be) didn't apply to me.  But, four years later, out of my greatest paradox (my greatest sorrow and achievement) I can tell those of you who are struggling with serious hurt and sorrow, that this truth- making your life what you want it to be- most definitely applies to you.  All it requires is for you to believe in yourself the way you believe in others.  That’s where it starts.  That, an patience.

The Danger of "What-if?"

I have never purposefully written a blog post about something that I disagree with in the conversation of adoption, but I'm going to now because I don't understand the logic behind this particular conversation.  I'm not going to say who posed this question/conversation because I don't want to start a fight but I feel it is important to try to address it with a sense of balance.  Someone posed the true of false question/statement: "I gave my child a different life, not necessarily a better one."  This thought has "what-if" written all over it.  

Is there a difference?  When I chose to place Baby Boy for adoption it was because at that time in my life, I had no way to provide for the both of us, therefore we would both go severely without.  That wouldn't be fair to him.  That's not to say that he didn't provide some much needed perspective for me at that time in my life when I was severely faltering around.  I lost sight of my future.  And then I found out I was pregnant and all the realizations hit me that there was no way I could provide for my son, let alone myself.  And so I had to face the hard music and I had to look at other options.  I started looking for parents who had their lives together and who were in a time in their lives where they could build a family and provide for that family.  This to me, seemed like the best/better life for my child.  And it was a different life from the one I could provide him.

This conversation continued about better vs. different and the person I was communicating with said that had someone told them at the time that they were considering placing their child for adoption that they would (in time) be in a position where they could financially afford their child and parent them, then they wouldn't have made the decision to place their child for adoption.

(cricket chirp)

Is it just me, or does that seem... I'm sorry, I am frustrated.  Duh.  If I had a magical ball or an oracle that could tell my future and it determined that I would be in a position to raise my child and not have to worry about the finances associated with raising a child and that everything would work out perfectly in time, but the first couple or four years would be really rough, then I STILL wouldn't change my decision.  Because at the time that I was struggling to do what was best for him, I would NEVER put him in a position where he would go without basic necessities for any period of time.  When I made the decision to place my child for adoption it was to offer him a different and better life than what I could offer him then, at that time.  

This isn't a question that pertains to both the present and the future at the same time.  You cannot consider this question retrospectively.  Retrospectively, if I were to consider this question, he wouldn't have a better life now whether he was with me or not.  He only knows one life, and that's the life he has.  If he had stayed with me, we would have still been struggling, and for another 2 years we would be struggling.  He would be in daycare majority of the day and majority of my monthly bring home would be paying for that daycare.  I wouldn't see him that much of the day.  His first words would be in a daycare, his first steps would be in a daycare, and he would probably have attachment issues.  The life he knows now, he has a mother who is a stay at home mom for majority of the week.  He has a father whom he adores.  He has siblings whom he loves and they love him and they are the best of friends.  He doesn't have a different life.  He has only one life and it's the one he knows and is attached to.  It's his identity.  The only way I could answer that question retrospectively is if he were to be removed from that life and put with me to experience whether or not his life is truly different or better.  Do you see what I'm saying?  

Does this mean that I don't miss him?  No.  I'm happy for him and I miss him every day of my life.  I miss him.  I love him.  I wish he was with me, but I also know that what I did was the best for him.  I will never second guess that.  The "what-if's" of life destroy.  They are meant to maim and render a person invisible and paralyzed by scenarios that don't even exist.  "My" child is safe.  He is happy.  He is loved.  He loves.  He is secure.  He has a stable home life.  He has an infectious laugh and a smile that makes you wonder what he's been doing that he's not supposed to be doing.  If that different?  No, it's what he knows.

If you are in a position where you are considering adoption for your child, commit to your decision.  Educate yourself on your options.  And never question, "what-if?" once you've made your decision.  We are in a place in history where adoption is open and that's exciting.  Do not let anyone make you feel less important than anyone else.  You are the most important person in your child's life while you are pregnant with them because you are their advocate.  You are their voice.  Whatever decision you make, make sure you are dedicated and alright with it and don't make one until you are educated on the alternative.  You have power, you have a voice, it is your decision.  The time for "what-if?" is when you are considering the future, not when you are considering the past.