Do you create a word for each new year?
A word that you focus on for the next 365 days; something that brings you joy or pushes you to become better. I’ve been watching my friends and family share their “Word for 2019” on their social media accounts, and I have been eager to do the same, as I do every year, but nothing was speaking to me.
Three Years Post Concussion
I was a prisoner to my own mind. When you feel physical or emotional pain, you have space where you go (in your mind) or words that you use to comfort and soothe yourself. I was only a year and a half into meditation, but I knew how to take my mind to a happier place when things around me felt out of control, as I believe we all do. Jan. 2, 2016 I lost that space. I lost the ability to self soothe. I lost sight of any reality. There was merely nothing-nothing but pain and dark, blank space.
At the root, my story does not differ from any other birth mother’s tale— the same heartache, loss, grief, sadness, and longing ooze from our fingertips.
Not a single day has passed, on my adoption journey, where I didn’t feel loved, accepted, and supported by these four people in my life. Words can never fully express my gratitude. If you are pregnant and making an adoption plan, communicate with those around you. Do not make assumptions. Voice your needs and your concerns. Allow them to be there for you. If you are pregnant and feeling alone, please find your tribe of supporters in positive, adoption support groups, with the adoptive couple you pick or within the agency you place with. No one should have to walk alone!
It’s been almost a week and I still feel such joy in my heart. I can’t wait to continue to share my story with you all. It is a privilege!
The hole in my heart that took me years to accept is overflowing with JOY! The greatest and purest JOY and LOVE of a mother!
I have spent more years with those strings tied to my limbs than I have been free. I know Grief in his darkest, ugliest moments. Grief seeps its way into every crevice of my life over eighteen years ago. He woke me up at night with terrifying night terrors. He dropped me to my knees in the middle of a parking lot. His maniacal laugh echoed the hallways of my home as I screamed out for mercy. Those puppet strings find their way to the root of every unbearable emotion inside of you. At any given moment, Grief can pull on one of those strings with such force you feel like your limbs will fall off!
Show empathy to those around you, communicate authentically and honestly— as an adoptive parent, birth parent or adoption professional. There is nothing more refreshing than being around others who aren’t afraid to be themselves!
I say a tearful goodbye to who I was and reach down to let go of the last piece of skin dangling at my feet, and watch it fly behind me from my rear view mirror.
I will never be her again.