Happy Birthday Alex!

It’s hard to believe that a year has already come and gone since your arrival. The first half of the year was the hardest portion for me. I’m not saying that it’s easy now, because it isn’t. I truly don’t believe that the emptiness I feel in my heart will ever go away. It might not be as dominant in the years to come, but it’ll still be there. Every day that comes, I’m reminded of this journey.

Life goes on for many around me – to them, it’s just another day. But to me, it’s the day my heart started to break. When I was pregnant with you, I had you close to my heart. I savored every movement you made and every time I had the opportunity to listen to your heartbeat. And the day you were born, I wasn’t ready to let go because I knew that I wouldn’t have the opportunity to feel you next to me for much longer.

Your parents came down on December 6th to Winona to be here for your arrival. We had supper together and talked about how we wanted things to go for when you were born. That night, I went home and tried to figure out why I was put in this situation. Why I was the one who had to sacrifice so much and risk losing a part of myself. I keep telling myself that I had no other choice. I had to think about the kids I had with me. And I knew, no matter how much I love you, that adding another child to the mix wouldn’t be the best option; especially if I wanted you and them to have a happy life. A life to where you aren’t left wanting and your needs are always met.

The morning of your birth, I woke up at 4 am. I tried to sleep as long as I could because I knew it wasn’t going to be an easy day – physically or emotionally. We arrived at the hospital at 6 am and registered. Your parents, my mom and her boyfriend, and my grandma were all there being my rocks. I got into my room to get dressed into the gown and I then went to lay in my bed. I waited for the nurse to come in and do her magic with the vital signs and IV. I don’t do well with needles, but I sucked it up and dealt with it.

For the next hour or so, we all sat in my room and talked. I rubbed my stomach and started to cry to myself because I wasn’t ready to let go. My grandma came over to hug me and tell me that she loves me more than anything. Of course that made me cry even more. I tried to show them that I was strong and that I can get through anything, but unfortunately that façade didn’t last for long.

At around 7:30-8:00 am, they came to wheel me down to the pre-op room. This is where it got even harder for me because I knew I was only one step away from you no longer being under my heart, a place you have been for 9 months. Again, your parents and I sat and talked. They are amazing people and the more I talked to them the more I knew you would be in great hands. I tried to keep my composure, but it was so hard when I had almost every nurse in that hospital coming to the pre-op room to hug me and tell me that I’m an amazing person. I didn’t believe them because if I was, I wouldn’t be giving up a part of me to someone else.

At 8:45 am, I was wheeled to the operating room. I just laid there as they did what they needed to do. The anesthesiologist had me sit up on the bed so they could administer the spinal. She stood in front of me and she saw the tears falling. She gave me a hug and asked me what was wrong. I blurted out “I’m not ready to let go. I don’t want to let go.” They let me have my little break down before they did it. I wiped away my tears and let them do what they needed to do. They helped me lay back down on the table. After they knew I was ready, they let your parents come in and sit next to me.

I forced myself to sleep through most of the procedure because I wanted your parents to experience as much of your birth as they possibly could. I woke right up when I heard your beautiful cry as they pulled you out of me. They brought you over to the warmer to clean you up some and brought you over so I could see you. You were such a beautiful sight. I whispered “I love you” to you and turned away and cried to myself as your parents were overcome with happiness.

You and your parents were both brought up to the nursery together as the doctor finished doing what he needed to do with me. After all that was said and done, I was wheeled to the post-op room where I spent most of the time sleeping and asking for more blankets because I was cold. My mom came down to talk to me and gave me a hug and told me she was so proud of me and she loves me. That’s something I don’t hear very often from my mom.

A few hours later, I was able to be wheeled to the room that I would stay in for most of my time there. A part of me wanted to be away from the nursery because I didn’t want to hear babies cry. But the more I thought about it, if I was in another part of the hospital, I wouldn’t be able to see you. And I wanted to spend as much time with you as I possibly could before I had to say goodbye.

We were only supposed to be in there until Sunday, but I unfortunately got too sick for them to send me home. I was willing to discharge you to your parents so you three can go home and start the bonding process. But your parents didn’t want that to happen because they wanted me to be able to go home as well. They were willing to stay as long as I stayed in the hospital. In some ways, it was great because I was able to spend more time with you. But in other ways, it made it harder for me to let you go when the day came for us to go our separate ways.

I let your parents do most of the feedings and diaper changes. Every so often I would take the chance to feed you. Every feeding I had, I just sat there and watched you sleep and eat at the same time. There would be times to where I had breakdowns during, so when that happened I handed you over to another person. Its not that I wanted to, it’s because I had to. I knew the longer I had with you, the closer I was going to get to you. And if that happened, the more likely it would have been for me to decide that I wasn’t going to give you up. And I knew your parents had been through enough heartache over the years, I didn’t want to be another reason for it.

You are too young to understand the reason for my choice. And I have every intention to answer all questions you may have for when you are older. I just hope that when that day comes, you will understand that I didn’t make this choice because I didn’t love you. I made it because I love you enough to give you a chance to a life that you deserve.

Dear Christian -

April 17, 2007 was the day I learned of your existance.  I was overcome with so many emotions – denial, shock, anger.  I debated on whether or not I should go through with the plans to go out for my birthday a few days later.  I figured I wasn’t pregnant, the test was lying to me.  But deep down I knew I was, the constant sickness I felt every day and night was my indicator. 

That night I cried myself to sleep.  I knew I couldn’t raise a third child by myself but I also knew that I couldn’t go through with an abortion.  So the only option I had left to me was adoption.  I did some research online for adoption agencies.  I came across the one your parents used.  I read their “Dear Birthparent(s)” letter and knew that they were the right choice.

April 18, 2007 I gave them a call and talked to your mom.  A part of me wondered if I should of contacted them so soon.  Especially knowing that I was still so early on that anything could happen.  And the heartbreak they would of felt after getting their hopes up again.  But I wanted to be able to get to know them better before I made a definite choice in them.  I wanted to be reassured that I was making the right choice. 

Over the course of my pregnancy, we had a few meetings together.  They met my other two kids.  And seeing them interact with them made my decision more concrete.  Sure, you weren’t born yet and I could of changed my mind numerous times before that day.  But as I’ve said, theres no way I could of raised 3 kids by myself.  You deserved to have a life to where you were always happy. 

Carrying you inside of me for 9 months was the hardest for me.  Feeling you kick and move each and every day made it even harder.  I tried to remain distant, but every time you moved, every time I heard your heartbeat at the doctors and every time I saw you on the ultrasound monitor made my heart break more than it already was.  Every appointment I laid on the table crying inside.  My doctor knew of my choice and he made every effort to be understanding of my choice. 

December 6, 2007 your parents came to town and we had supper together.  I was at ease to know that my pregnancy was almost done.  I wanted to finally be able to get past this and overcome every hurdle that was thrown my way during that time.  Mom, grandma, the kids and I went back to our house while they went to their hotel room.  We sat up for awhile and talked when my kids went to bed.  Mom tried to reassure me that I was making the right choice and that no one would ever think bad of me for making this decision.  It of course didn’t ease my mind or the pain I felt in my heart. 

December 7, 2007 was the day you were born.  Your parents met me at the hospital.  You could see the excitement in their eyes.  I was scared.  I shouldn’t of been scared because I’ve done this 2 other times before.  But this time was different.  This time I wasn’t ‘going home with a child I carried for 9 months.  All I was going home was the memories of that day.  They were going home to start their new life as parents and experience everything I’ve experienced twice over.

They wheeled me down to the operating room to prepare for your arrival.  I had a mini-breakdown prior to them administering the spinal anesthesia.  The nurse hugged me and told me that it was going to be okay and that I was the strongest person she had ever met.  I hugged her so tightly and told her that I wasn’t ready to hand you over.  I wanted to keep you close for as long as possible because I knew that I wouldn’t be able to ever experience the baby days again.

Your parents came into the room shortly after they got me all settled.  I forced myself to sleep during your birth.  Every so often I would wake up and hear everyone talking.  And then the moment came where you were experiencing life outside of me.  I heard your cry and I looked over to your parents and saw how happy they were.  I turned my head the other way and cried.  They let me see you for a few minutes before they took you and your parents up to the nursery.

While in recovery, I slept as much as I could.  That’s all I wanted to do is sleep everything away.  The real pain wasn’t even while in the hospital.  The intense pain came the day I handed you over.  During the hospital stay, I had a few moments to where I would cry.  A few nurses would come into my room and again tell me how proud they are of me and how much they admired me.  Of course, I cried and then they cried which in turn made me cry even harder. 

Your parents were simply amazing during this time.  They would come and visit us in the hospital.  They would ask if it would be okay to bring you into my room.  Of course I always said yes.  I was tired but I wanted to be with you as much as I possibly could before I didn’t have the chance to hold you, kiss you and tell you how much I love you.  And again, seeing them with you took so much worry off of me.  I knew you were going to be in great hands. 

You are too young to understand a lot of things about everything.  Just know that not only have you touched their lives more than words could ever explain, you put so many things into perspective for me.  A lot of things in which I already knew, but it wasn’t until you were brought into my life did I realize how important it is to appreciate anything and everything that life has to offer. 

December 13, 2007 was the day we left the hospital.  My birth counselor Ruth came down to help getting the discharge in order between the hospital and your parents.  We were discharged at 10:30 am but didn’t finally leave the hospital until 1:30 pm that day.  I wanted to get as many pictures with you as I possibly could.  They asked if I wanted to leave first or if I wanted your parents and you to leave first.  I of course chose to leave first.  I snuggled you closely, kissed your forehead and told you that I will always love you.  And then I handed you over to your parents with tears in my eyes.  I grabbed a hold of my little puppy my grandma bought me and walked out of the hospital.  That day is forever in my mind.

One day we will be able to sit down and you will be able to ask me all the questions you want to ask me.  I will answer them as honestly as I possibly can.  Don’t ever think I made this decision because I didn’t love you, know that I made this decision because I love you more than I could ever express in a letter.  While you aren’t with me physically, you are with me every day in my memory.

I wish I had people around that understands what it is that I deal with every day.  Between the adoption, my other kids, working, and a bunch of other stuff – I barely have time to sit down and relax.  And the one time I have a day to myself – no work, no kids – nothing, I’m told that I’m irresponsible because I want to take a nap. 

I’m exhausted physically and emotionally.  Not like I was back in the beginning of all of this, but it still hits me hard every so often.  But no one realizes that.  I always say that they won’t understand what it feels like to have a hole in your heart.  No one will understand how you long to hold a child close to you when you can’t.  I’ve had a few people tell me that they’ve noticed a change in me lately.  Not sure how since every time someone comes in contact with me, they get the same person.  Maybe I’m giving off a vibe that I’m not aware of?  I don’t know. 

I just hope that one day soon I’m able to move forward without having a whole bunch of emotions running through me.  As the saying goes “this too shall pass.”

It’s been awhile since I last wrote a journal entry.  Its not because the emptiness in my heart isn’t there, its because I’ve been extremely busy with working and dealing with numerous other things.  There’s so many days to where I wish I could have my lazy boring life back.   But I honestly wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world.

I’m not sure why today is a harder day, but it is.  My kids are safely nestled in their beds and I’m uploading pictures from Brayden’s birthday party.  As I was editing them, I looked back on the pictures I have from my visit with the APs and Christian.  Seeing how tiny he was and how sweet he looked made the flood gates opened.  I’m not sure why because I couldn’t be anymore content with my decision than I already am.  I think its just reality hit me that I will no longer have anymore babies in this house.  My “babies” are getting older and soon won’t be depending on me as much as they do now.

Sleepless nights aren’t as common anymore, but theres a few nights here and there that I wake up to phantom baby cries.  There’s also a few days to where I regret my choice to get my tubes tied.  But I knew that my child-bearing days were long done.  But I still feel an aching in my heart for another child.  Maybe its the sweet baby smells I miss, the sweet newborn cries and how they snuggle their heads into your shoulder as they listen to your heartbeat.  Whatever it is, I know that babies turn into toddlers which in turn give you more gray hairs. 

I think its just because I’m approaching my son’s 6th birthday and its making me reminiscint of what once was and what will never be again.  On one hand, I’m anxious to embark on a new journey with them.  But on the other hand, I want them to be small for awhile longer.  I want them to need me and want to be near me.  If only I could stop the hands of time and savor their innocence for awhile longer. 

Tomorrow, April 17th, marks another year milestone for me in this journey. 

This time last year I was taking a pregnancy test inside the Walmart bathroom.  I left early enough to where I could go and pick up a test, take it and still be on time to work.  I’m not sure WHY I did it that way since last time I took a test before work, it left me an emotional mess.  I think it has a lot to do with the wonderful thing called denial.  Deep down I knew the results, but I didn’t want to admit that my instincts were right.  And I was merely taking the test to prove that I wasn’t pregnant. 

I peed on the stick, set it on the floor and just watched it.  It wasn’t even 3 minutes and that 2nd pink line showed up.  I didn’t know if I should laugh, cry, or scream.  I had so many feelings come across me that I didn’t know which one to conquer first.  Wouldn’t be the first time experiencing moments like that.  I prefer not to, but I tend to face these things head on.

After I went through the motions, I got myself together and drove to work.  I started crying some more and I could barely see the road.  Luckily it wasn’t much farther.  All I was worried about was breaking the news to my mom.  I didn’t want to because I knew she’d be upset with me and make me feel as though I’m such a disappointment.  She wouldn’t say as much, but actions tend to speak louder than words. 

I pulled into the parking lot next to moms car.  I took a few deep breaths and tried to figure out how I was going to explain this to her.  She met me over at my car and brought me my present and card.  I opened the card and got through the first few sentences before I broke down again.  I handed her the card and my present and told her I’m not worthy of those things.  She asked why and I was crying so hard I couldn’t even get the words out.  Finally after 5-10 minutes I blurted out that I was pregnant.  The look on her face was a look I’ve seen before.  A look of disappointment and a bunch of other things.

First words out of her mouth was that I was suppose to get an abortion.  I told her that I had considered it and that I researched it.  And told her that even if I wanted to, there’s no way I could afford 300.00 up front.  She said that her and grandma would help with that, it just needed to be done.

Could I really go through an abortion?  Would I be able to look myself in the mirror every morning and night and be okay with my decision?  No.  Maybe if it would of been my first pregnancy, I might of been okay with it just for the fact that I had no knowledge of how it felt when you hear the heartbeat for the first time, feel the kicks for the first time and get your first glimpse of an unborn baby on the ultrasound machine.

Since abortion was out of the question as well as my keeping this baby, the only other option I had was adoption.  Did I want it that way?  No.  But I really didn’t have much of a choice.  It is and will always be the biggest decision I’ve ever had to make so far in my life.  Never in a million years did I ever dream I’d be faced with such a decision and actually go through with it.

To some, they view me as one of the strongest and bravest people they’ve ever known.  To others, I’m known as the one who picks and chooses her kids.  But its not like that at all.  I know my limits and I know what I can and can’t handle.  And it wasn’t so much raising 3 kids alone that made this decision for me, it was the “how would I live with myself knowing I resent him in some way for how he came to be?” that made it as well as other reasons.  But that was a big one.  I didn’t want him sensing somewhere down the line that his mama loves him less than his brother and sister just because of how he entered the world. 

Not a day goes by that I don’t often sit here at the computer looking at his pictures and wondering what life would be like if he were really here with me.  And there isn’t a night lately that I wake up from a dead sleep with tears on my cheek remembering the day I walked out of the hospital without him in my arms.  Its not a natural thing for a mom to turn her back on her flesh and blood no matter what. 

Out of all of this I have analyzed so many things and have so many unanswered questions.  All of these bring me back to realize that this experience will not only make me a better mother to my current children, but to also be a better person.  Its a long healing process, but one day I hope to hear the “I love you and I have thanked you every night when I go to bed for you giving me the opportunity to have a loving family and experience everything life has to offer.”

One day….

Every day I face the world with a painted on smile.  People ask me how everything is going.  Inside I wanna tell them that the pain is slowly eating away at me each and every time I see a baby close to the same age as he is.  My arms ache to hold a baby and my heart breaks a little more when I hear a baby cry.  But I tell them I’m fine and walk away as if the conversation never happened.

The last few nights I’ve had dreams that have woken me from a dead sleep, cheeks soaked with tears and my heart racing.  I keep hearing the sounds of a baby crying and I wake up in a frantic trying to find him.  But then reality hits and I know there is no baby for me to console, snuggle with, or even just watch sleep so peacefully.  I go into my kids’ room, fix their blankets and cover them up again and kiss them on the cheeks.  Then I go and find the puppy I clung tightly to the day I was discharged from the hospital and curl back into bed and cry myself back to sleep.

Monday he’ll be 4 months.  I figured by now it’d be a little bit easier, but its not.  There’s still a void, but I have to keep moving.  I have two other kids that depend on me and who require me to be the best mom ever.  But its hard.  As I’ve said in a previous entry, people tell me I should be “over it” but its not that easy.  Its not like I can just shove everything into the back of my mind and act like nothing happened.  In my mind I know its the best choice, but my heart is still holding onto the “did I make a mistake?” part.  Obviously I didn’t, but we all know how hard it is to tell your heart to let go.

Seeing the pictures of him and his beautiful smile makes me know that it WAS the best choice.  And in the pictures of them as a family shows me that there’s so much love between them that I would of been a fool to NOT of chosen them.  To be honest with you, I’m not even sure how I came to choose them.  I read their “Dear Birthparent(s)” letter and something clicked inside and told me “they’re the ones!”.  But the reason is beyond me.  But the more I interacted with them through email, phone calls, and in person visits made me even more confident in my choice.  And of course the day he was born, seeing the way they interacted with him made me more at ease with everything.

I’ll always wish he was here with us, that’ll never change.  But he’s so much better off with his new family.  And one day, I will be able to look back on all of this and say “because of this experience, I’m stronger, more confident mother and person.”  When that day comes is beyond me, but that day is soon. 

Today marks the one year anniversary of when my whole life changed.  Only thing is, at the time I didn’t know. 

It started out as normal as any other day.  The kids and I woke up.  I made them breakfast, got them dressed and brought them to school.  I went to work shortly after.  Picked up the kids, brought them home.  I helped my oldest with his school work while my daughter sat on my lap trying to undrestand the things we were doing.  Bedtime came so I gave them a bath, put them in their PJs and kissed their foreheads after they laid down and told them I loved them. 

Some friends and I planned on going out for the night so I got myself ready after they were asleep and while I was waiting for my babysitter/designated driver to come over.  My designated driver gave me a ride out to the bar that my friends and I were going to meet at.  Told her that I would call her when I was ready to come home.  She said okay and off she went. 

It had been a long time since I was last out so it didn’t take me long to feel the effects of the alcohol.  But Ive always been one who knew her limitations so if I knew I had too much, I’d switch over to pop and try to sober up some before going home.  I was having a great time dancing and hanging out with my friends.  But all of a sudden I got hot and outside I went to get some fresh air.  I walked up and down the sidewalk a few times just to try and regain my composure.  I didn’t see anyone else outside at the time, so I just kept to myself. 

All of a sudden a guy comes up from behind me and pushes me onto the pavement.  I lose consciousness for a minute and when i come to, I see him ontop of me with his hand over my mouth.  I kick and try to scream, but nothing comes out.  I bit his hand in hopes that it could divert his attention long enough to where I could get away.  But it didn’t.  He slapped me across the face and continued to push himself on me.  The rest is a blacked out memory. 

I go into the bar and grab my things and go back outside to call my babysitter to come get me and bring me home.  All I wanted to do was go home and forget everything happened as if it was all just a nightmare. I should of reported it but I never got a good look at who it was that did this.  And I just wanted it to all go away as if nothing happened. 

I tried so hard to push all of this in the back of my mind and continue on with my life as if it never happened.  I went to work just like any other day, I snuggled my kids and told them I love them just as much, if not more, then before anything happened.  A few weeks go by and I start feeling sick.  The denial part of me was thinking I was coming down with the flu, that there was no way I could be pregnant.  But then each day it slowly got worse and there was no way I could deny the feeling I was feeling.  Eventually I caved and took a test.  Of course, it turned up positive.  I rubbed my eyes a few times thinking my eyes were playing tricks on me.  So I took a few more and the line continued showing up. 

I laid onto my bed and just cried, cried harder than I’ve cried before over this.  I didn’t know where to go or what to do.  Abortion crossed my mind, but it left just as quickly as those 2 lines showed up.  I knew there was only one other option for me and that was adoption.  So I did my research, read numerous “dear birthparents” letters from couples looking to adopt.  I found a couple who I felt would be the best choice for me to give my baby to.  Trust me, if you would of asked me 10 years ago if I would ever give a child up, I would of said no in a heartbeat.  But there’s no way I could of physically, emotionally, or financially raised a 3rd child by myself. 

Its hard to believe that he’s already 3 1/2 months old.  But the pain I feel on an every day basis is the worst pain I’ve ever felt.  Worse than that night.  The day I walked out of the hospital without a baby I carried for 9 months was the hardest day ever.  After discharge, I came home and cried myself to sleep.  I woke up a few hours later and had both my kids laying in my bed next to me.  If it wasn’t for them, I wouldn’t be as strong as I am today. 

I’m grateful I had the opportunity to turn my pain into someone elses happiness.  But even though that’s the case, there isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t often think “what if I would have kept him? How would things be?  Would I love him just as much as I love my other two or would I love him less because of how he came to be?”  All these questions with no answers to be found.  But I’m thankful that I’m able to still be a part of his life, even if its only through pictures, emails, and occassional visits.  There’s no way, no matter what, I could go 18+ years without knowing how he was doing. 

I will always love him, no matter how far apart we are, he’ll always be a part of my family and always be my baby.

Everyone I talk to, people always tell me its time to move on and close this chapter of my life.  They expect me to wake up one morning and act as if nothing ever happened.  But its easier said than done. 

The pain I feel on an every day basis isn’t easy to ignore.  Sure I do a good job of it when I’m out in public just to prevent the constant comments such as these.  But when I’m here at home with no one other than myself, its really hard.  I always think “I should have a baby here with me, a baby to feed, a baby to snuggle with.”  And thats when the pain intensifies. 

People tell me that they’re proud of me and that they look up to me.  But I muster up a thank you and a fake smile and walk away.  You look up to me because I chose to allow an emptiness inside, an emptiness that will always be there no matter how much time passes.  Every time I close my eyes, I always see the day I turned my back on him and walked away.  I have never cried as hard as I did that day.  The ache my arms felt and everything else was so intense.

I just wish people would understand that its NOT easy to push this aside.  I try so hard because I know my kids deserve a mother who isn’t overwhelmed in so much hurt.  And other than ripping my heart out completely, I have no idea how I can make this happen.  Maybe counseling is an option, but I think a part of the reason why I haven’t “let go” is because I never really had the opportunity to just break down and grieve. 

Maybe I should just take one day away from everything and just go and grieve by myself.  Maybe this is why my heart is hanging on so strongly.  I’m so afraid that all these built up emotions will one day rear their ugly head and break me like a twig.  That would be worse than anything else.

It’s been almost 2 months since I handed over a piece of my heart.  Each day that passes, it does get a little easier.  But often times, I’ll find myself stopping what I am doing and just cry.  My arms ache to hold a baby again, to wake up in the middle of the night for those feedings and to snuggle him with no one watching.  But my baby days are no more, its time for me to begin the journey into a new adventure with my kids.  A couple longing to have a family of their own finally has the joy of experiencing everything I experience two times over.

Does it hurt?  Very much so.  There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t find myself thinking about him and wondering “what if…”.  But the moment I start thinking I could manage to raise three kids by myself, I’m pushed back into reality the moment my daughter becomes difficult.  I truly think my daughter is the biggest reason for the decision I made.  Don’t get me wrong, I love my daughter more than life itself, just like my son, but we’re at a very trying time and there is no way my sanity could handle another child.  Not so much financially, but physically and emotionally I’m already at the limit, if not a little over.  So while there is a piece of my heart missing, there’s no going back.

In time, it will get easier – at least, that’s what everyone tells me.  But right now, I’m not seeing it getting any easier.  Ten years ago if you would have asked me how I envisioned my future, this would not be a part of it.  But I’m a firm believer of everything happens for a reason.  There was a reason why I backed out of my tubal at the last minute after having my daughter.  This may very well be the reason for it.  No matter what though, it doesn’t make it any easier.  I still took part in creating a life, hearing his heartbeat for the first time, feeling his first kicks.  He grew under my heart for 9 months and changed so much about my way of thinking in regards to life, he truly is the next best thing to my kids.  He made me who I am today.

Every day, someone always tells me I’m strong and they look up to me.  But I’m not strong, I cry just like everyone else, my heart breaks just like the next person, and I’m always pondering different thoughts and wondering what our lives have in store for us over this next year or so.  It can’t really get any worse, can it?  It can only get better since I’ve already hit rock bottom and there’s nothing lower than rock bottom.  So I know it WILL get better from here on out.  Maybe I’m lying to myself but maybe I’m not.  Maybe deep down I know it will.  But the pain of everything is overshadowing the good parts of life. 

Today is the day my rights will finally be terminated.  Today is the day I’ve looked forward to and dreaded all at the same time.  But I think once this day passes, I’ll be able to step onto the road of recovery – the road I’ve longed for since the day everything changed.  I wish I could of just slept today away so I didn’t have to have all of these “should I or shouldn’t I?” thoughts running through my head.  Logically I know I couldn’t do it, but emotionally I’m attached.  But who wouldn’t be?  No amount of convincing yourself that the baby you carry was ever yours makes it any easier.

I spent the last 11 months telling myself that even though he grew within me, he wasn’t actually mine.  Today will be the second hardest day of everything; the hardest day being the day I walked out of the hospital holding a stuffed animal instead of holding a car seat with a baby in it.  There’s no turning back now.  I’m thankful that I’m not working right now; I’d be an emotional wreck if I were.  But then again, if I were working – maybe this wouldn’t be as hard?  Who knows.

What I’m about to write doesn’t even sound like something I would say and I was the one who said it.  I’m really hoping that this doesn’t upset someone or whatever.  But wow, I just feel sooo bad.  I spent 2 hours after I said it crying.  And I know once my kids are asleep, I’ll be crying some more. 

So my mom and I were discussing everything … again.  Once again, she more or less told me I wasn’t a good mom because I was griving over a child who was ever mine from the beginning.  Told her that while I mde myself realize from the get-go that he wasn’t mine, it still was hard to not get attached.  I heard the first heartbeat, felt the first kick, and my stretch marks had baby stretch marks.  How can one NOT get attached to a child? 

I told her that right now I just can’t get over this hump until after I know they have legal guardianship of him and my rights are no longer available.  Until that day comes, its going to kill me that I could call up at any given moment to tell my birth counselor that I want him back.  The emotional side of me really wants him back, but the logical side of me knows this is the best decision, not only for my family but their family as well. I just wish there was a way for me to try and describe the emotional rollercoaster I’m on to her.  But I think no matter what, she’ll never understand and she’ll always think that I’m just wanting pity.  If that’s that case, I would of went around everywhere and started crying to anyone and everything that was willing to listen and console me.

Anyways, once again she told me I’m not a real mother.  That I don’t spend enough time with my kids, neglect them and how social services is going to be knocking on my door at any minute to take them away from me.  Of course, I snapped back with the “the only way they would is if you called them” response.  Yes, I’m not my normal self like I was before all of this took place.  But that doesn’t mean that the love I have for my kids is any less or I think about him more than I do the two I have in my care.

I of course started crying and told my mom that if I’m such a horrible mother that she can go pick the kids up from school and I”ll find somewhere else to stay for awhile until I find a place of my own.  Told her that I never wanted kids to begin with.  But the only reason why they’re here is because I’m against abortion for myself and I’m the type of person who accepts responsibility for her actions, no matter what.  Of course that set her off and told me that she was going to call social services and tell them that I wasn’t going to pick them up from school so they need to find someplace for them.  And if I would of went and picked them up, dropped them off by her then leave, I would be considered a bad mother.  Maybe in some ways I would, but not in all ways because its not like I dropped them off on the side of the road, left them at school, or harmed them.  They would of been in a safe place.

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, I am NOT cut out for this mother business.  I don’t have the motherly instinct that so many others have.  And it KILLS me to no end to know that I don’t.  I think a lot of this is stemming from the fact that my daughter is a huge handful now a days and I’m at my wits end as to what I can do to correct this behavior or anything else she’s going through. 

I want the days back to where I can just get up and go wherever I wanted without having to worry about lining up a babysitter, being home at a certain time, you know – over all freedom like I had before they came along.  But now, I’m so restricted in everything that I’m lacking better judgement.  Maybe my mom’s right, maybe I need to admit myself to the hospital and get some help.  Because this is NOT right to be feeling the way I’m feeling.  But the weight of everything is slowly making me sink deeper into depression.  And I think no matter how many anti-depressants I take, it won’t make it go away. 

Maybe things will be better when they’re older and don’t require so much for me.  But until then, I’m left with these feelings.  I may just have to call my OB tomorrow and see what he thinks.  Maybe he can make it to where if I go into the hospital, I can willingly check myself out without having to be released at their discretion. 

I just don’t know anymore.  I want to be the person I was before, I want to be the mother that they saw smiling in the morning when they woke up, I just want to be me again.  I don’t know who this person is anymore.