Tuesday, March 16, 2010

Maybe I'll Feel Better In the Morning

[Caveat: I wrote this when I was feeling terribly emotional. I try not to write when I'm a mess, but I think it's important to be honest about my feelings, and this is what they were earlier.]

I miss my little Roo today.

I miss her every day, if I'm honest. But most days it's more of an undercurrent. And then there are days like today where I cry for all I'm worth, and I feel desperate, broken, like I will never be human again.

I know it sounds selfish, but part of the reason I didn't want to place Roo was because I was afraid this was going to happen. That I would be ruined, that every day for the rest of my life would be a battle to keep from falling apart. I didn't think I could bear that kind of pain.

I was wrong. Apparently I can bear it. But not very well.

I miss her so much that it is a physical ache. My arms feel empty, my heart feels empty. I have nothing. I could die from the pain of missing my little girl. I wish I could sometimes. It seems grossly unjust that a person should have to live with this kind of torment.

Everyone told me that I was going to get the most amazing blessings from placing Roo. That my life would improve in ways I couldn't even imagine. That this would be good for me as well as Roo - that I would find direction and purpose and hope, and that God would compensate me immeasurably.

So far, my life has not improved. This hasn't been particularly good for me. I have no direction, no purpose, very little hope. Mostly I have a void. How much longer will God make me wait for things to get better? How much more will I be asked to endure? I'm tired of being brave, of being strong. I'm tired of being a good example. I'm tired of being a birth mom. I'm tired of pretending I'm doing okay because people have grown impatient with my grief and pain.

Maybe it's not what people want to hear, but I don't care. My feelings are valid. They are important to me and I'm not going to hide them because people don't think they're important. You know what? I have good days and bad days and I'm not going to apologize for the bad ones. Being a birth mom really, really sucks sometimes. It hurts worse than anything.

There isn't really anything in the world that can make things right again, that can make up for the loss. But she's worth it. My little Roo is worth the pain and the anguish and the misery and every single tear.

I love her. And I miss her, and so I cry. And I pray for the strength to get myself through another day. Maybe tomorrow will be a better day.

6 comments:

Mother of the Wild Boys said...

Jill, I'm so glad that you share the happy AND the sad moments. Anyone who thinks that birthmoms float away on a blissful cloud after placement is seriously mislead. Being a birthmom means that you always have a part of your heart missing...and that ache does get less intense as the time goes by, but it doesn't leave.
Feeling sad and missing Roo is completely natural, and your feelings are so valid. It is super hard to go from being pregnant and having a definite direction and timeline, to being a birthmom and trying to find your new direction. There aren't any birthmom countdown calendars like there are for pregnancy, ya know?!
Hang in there, don't be so hard on yourself, and let your destiny find you. You don't have to have it all figured out right now. ((HUGS))

dust and kam said...

I am sorry your heart is aching. Thinking and praying for you. You are most definitely one of the strongest people I know.

Savannah said...

I appreciate your honest thoughts, even the sad, hard, bad ones. It has helped really open my eyes about birth moms. I hope it helps make me a better person knowing how real the pain is.

Margaret said...

Sweetie, I am sorry you are having a rough time of it. It does show how much you love and want the best for baby Roo. I can not imagine the pain you feel but I can tell you that Roo will thank you some day. Tomorrow it will be 35 years since my adoption was finalized. And I am forever thankful that my birth mom made the final decision to place me.

There is a saying that goes something like "choosing to have a child is letting your heart walk outside your body". While I find this true as a mother I imagine it is even more so for a birth mother.

Lara said...

Oh, this makes my heart ache. Our birth mom has lost practically everything since placing Jocelyn. She lost her home and had to go live in a woman's shelter. Her two oldest children were placed in foster care. Her rights to them will most likely be terminated in May. She is separated from her husband their child lives with him. It breaks my heart. I pray and pray and pray. I KNOW she deserves blessings. I KNOW God will someday pour out the blessings of heaven for this beautiful woman. I just want it to be NOW!!!!

Like you, I don't understand where those blessing are. Where the help is. Where the mercy of the world is.

It's just not fair...

Susie said...

Jill,

I just stumbled onto your blog tonight. I am a first mom also, a few years further into this journey ~ my son will be 31 in May.

My heart breaks for you. I wish that I could say it gets easier, but I can't. You are in no way selfish because you knew that you would love your baby so much. That is human nature. You ARE a mom, nothing can change that. Moms love their babies ~ forever. The problem is, you are a mom without your child. I completely understand your pain, the hole in your soul. You are so right, a person should not have to live with this kind of torment.

Please don't berate yourself for feeling this grief. Accept it, own it, try to find a way to live with it, don't fight against it. Would you tell a mother that lost her child to death that she was not entitled to feel the grief? First mom grief is the same ~ but on-going, for life.

Hugs to you, sending prayers your way that you find a way to live this life as a first mom. You can and will find happiness & joy ~ even with the underlying grief that will always be there.

Susie