Saturday, November 12, 2011

A Knife To The Heart

I had a wonderful day today.  Opening Day of deer hunting season is a almost a bigger holiday than Christmas around here!  The hubby's family are a deer hunting family.  The men folk little and big (and one niece) get up early to go kill Bambi and family, while the women folk cook all morning and gather at noon at the in-laws for the big Hunter's Lunch.  The wives, kids, and now their kids all gather for the lunch too. 

The hunters slowly trickle in around noon, showing off their trophies or sharing stories of the ones seen, not seen, the ones who got away.  The Nebraska game was on then so the guys even got to enjoy a bit of the game before heading back out again. 

I love the family I married into.  We all get along wonderfully, we truly enjoy getting together.  As I was sitting in the kitchen listening to my kids with their cousins today, telling stories of years gone by, I was overwhelmed with joy.  It is so wonderful to see your children as adults being great friends.  Then it hit me.  Actually, it was more like being stabbed.  If only...

If only ALL my children could have been there. 

No matter the occasion, whenever all my kids are together, or all my grandkids.  It's never complete. 

That's what adoption does to a family.  Tears it apart. 

Another thing you don't realize you are giving up when you give up a child for adoption.

They don't tell you that you are already a family.  Even if it's just the mother and infant, you are still a family. A family that should be honored and cherished, not torn apart.  For even decades later, the pain of the loss of that child is like a knife stabbing you in what is left of your heart.



  1. I told a counselor that I thought of my daughter every minute of every day for the last two years. His eyes bugged out. 31 years later and her beauty, laugh, kindness, is ever present in my mind. Lately, its gotten easier to be separated. Maybe it's only every other minute. Maybe I'm beginning to accept what is.
    I hope the young college girls that think they are doing right by their child to give them to strangers read our blogs and adoptee blogs and realize that it is never the loving option. It kills part of all of us. {{{{{Suzie}}}}}

  2. I am an adoptee. I love my birthmom, even though I've never met her. I love her because she gave me up for adoption. I have never once felt sorry or abandoned because of her actions.

    I love her. I think about her all the time. But maybe if she had been my real mom, then I wouldn't have loved her as much. Maybe I would have resented her for having me so young and not being able to provide. Or maybe i would feel guilty all the time for being the one thing that kept her from her dreams. Maybe she would have resented me too.

    I mean, maybe we would have been happy, I don't know. You guys are grieving over a relationship that you think you might have had - but it could just have easily been marred and soured. How many biological children have acrimonious relationships with their parents? Tons.

    All I know is that I am married to a wonderful man, and together we have a beautiful little boy. I owe all my happiness to my birthmom's selfless and courageous decision to give me up, and in so doing, give me my best chance of having a full and happy life - one that she, herself, could not provide. I would much rather honor her for being brave, loving, and selfless than to sit around second guessing her choices.

    Like I said, I'm sorry for your suffering, and I sure hope that whereever my birthmom is, she isn't feeling the same way. But I won't say she made the wrong choice.