I'm the type of person who complains a lot. I'm not afraid to be vocal. But people don't like hearing that I'm not doing okay. People celebrate adoption because it makes deserving couples parents. Wonderful. But that's just the sunflowers and daisies perspective. The other side is just this massive hole of never ending darkness. You need to understand the key words there: never ending.
Trust me, I see how happy they are with Ben. I loved watching them become parents. Most people will never get to do what I got to do. It was so amazing handing them the answer to their prayers. I saw a miracle that day. I was a miracle for them.
But. Their happiness is my misery.
I'm a momma bear that had her baby bear taken from her. I'm just as vicious as her and protective as her, but I'm missing my baby. People think that they're helping when they show me blogs or posts or "uplifting" quotes. No, oh my goodness, no. Please. You can not fix me. You can not fix this situation. Lord knows that no one's going to let me have my baby back.
I've learned that I need something from people, desperately, if they're going to talk to me about Ben and adoption. It's not empathy, but it's permission to feel the way I feel. Don't try to tell me to only look at the positives, because all I hear is "get over it," or "there's nothing to feel sad about." When people say to think about how much better Ben is because I gave him up for adoption, I hear "you would've been an incompetent mother and he would've been so unhappy if he had to stay with you." Don't tell me to stop crying, but also, don't tell me to let it out.
Grief looks different every time I feel it.
Especially when I'm battling between "adoption is a miracle" and "I lost my baby."
Right now, all I feel is that I lost my baby. And the bad days are really bad.
And there's no new pictures, again.
