I'm fraught with empathy for all the mothers with children lost to adoption. Each holiday that goes by that you can't be with your absent child hurts. But the one day that rips through our souls the most is the day our child was born. The day our child was torn from our arms.
There's many nights I lay awake replaying the birth of my son. My mind goes through each moment as if there was a way I could have changed it. If I just did this or that different. Like if I went to a different hospital under the name Jane Doe. Over and over I imagine things far from this pain I live in now. Every peace of me wishes I knew what I know now. But I live in a world without time machines or magic wands. I can't take this pain way. I can't help those who are just like me.
All I can do is understand what we mothers are going through emotionally because I'm in the same boat with them everyday. (I should say ship because our number are huge.) I know the ominous need to have our baby, the anger that someone else has them, and the depressing sorrow that we have to live without our child.
There is no considerable amount of healing that beget this kind of loss. It truly is worse then death.
Wednesday, August 8, 2007
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1 comment:
jadedtears,
As the day our child was born; is the worst day to cope with. As you know; I have slipped into a depression; as August 14; approaches. I; also replay that day in my head; the parts I haven't blocked out. What if I ran and just hid; maybe we would still be together. The so many unknowns; they do not tell us. To many of us are in this pain:(
Hugs,
Kell
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