Owning the Sadness

Sunday morning my guys and I went to the urgent care center. On Friday, I banged my foot into the corner of our heavy platform bed and over the weekend it swelled and got more black and blue than I expected it would. This story isn't about my foot (which still is bruised and sore, but getting better), though.

After filling out my paperwork at the urgent care center, I went to the desk to pay my copay. I had seen the receptionist watching us and I could tell she was trying to figure out how we all fit together. It's a look we get a lot. What took me by surprise was her leaning forward and whispering to me "Is he adopted?"

When you're a conspicuous family you do get a lot of curious looks and questions from people. I understand it. I'm the mom of a child of another race and I was curious about the mom and boy at Target awhile back- she was white, he was Asian. My curiosity really stemmed from seeing another family that looked kind of like mine, which I don't see often, but we do notice when things don't fit our picture of what a family "should" look like.

The receptionist went on to ask "Where's he from?" and "How old was he when you got him?"

I really don't mind answering people's questions. I sort of feel like an ambassador for adoption. I want to take every opportunity I can to share with people about adoption and why we chose to create a family this way.

But that last question, "How old was he when you got him?" is always so hard for me to answer. In fact, sitting here thinking about it I get tears in my eyes.

Max was one week old when he joined our family. I had read about Max for the first time while his birth mother was still pregnant. I knew from the moment I read the email that he was going to be our son.

Something in my soul said "This is the one!"

For reasons that I don't feel are mine to share, Max stayed with his birth parents for one week and we were notified through email that adoptive families were no longer being considered for him.

I was heartbroken.

The sadness I felt is indescribable. I had felt like God had so clearly said to me "I have chosen this child for you," but again there I was without my child. I was to the point of saying I was too emotionally exhausted to continue. I couldn't go through the heartache again.

When we got the call from our social worker I knew IMMEDIATELY why she was calling, before she even said a word. My baby boy was coming home to me!

That week between the day we found out adoptive families were no longer being considered and the day Max came home to be an official part of our family forever was the saddest week of my life. I felt like my child was in this world, but I didn't know where and I didn't understand why he wasn't in my arms.

Most mothers get a pregnancy and every minute after their baby joins this world to spend with them. For one week (and nine months in his precious birth mother's womb), my son was without me and I was without him.

I know that people who ask me, "How old was he when you got him?" aren't being malicious. They're just curious. Every time I get that question though, I am reminded that for one week, and nine months, we weren't together and that breaks my heart.

I have fought this feeling for the last nine months. It felt selfish to me to feel sad that Max had a week with his birth parents, but the more I have thought about it I have realized that I am not sad he had the time with them, I am sad that I wasn't there to be a part of it.

I'm learning more and more that the emotions of adoption are complex and can often be conflicting. I am so thankful to Max's birth parents; they are so dear to me and I feel like I owe them the world. At the same time, as I parent Max and we grow together as a family, I realize that Max has a bond with another mother and sometimes that realization can hurt.

The emotions don't always make sense. They don't always make make me feel good about myself, but they are what I feel. I can simultaneously love Max's birth mom and hold her in the highest regard and still ache for the time that I missed with my precious son. It says nothing negative against her or me-

we're just two mothers who love the same little boy incredibly deeply.