Meltdown

I had a complete meltdown one morning last week. I was getting ready for work. My daughter was taking her morning nap. I had this overwhelming urge to look at my son’s pictures, so I went and got the little book and began looking through them slowly. I don’t look at them often, maybe three times a year. The last time was probably about four months ago. I always feel sad when I look at them, but this time I just started crying so hard, I couldn’t even see the pictures. I am sure this is a sign of the work I’ve been doing – actually facing some issues and feelings regarding him and the adoption. I truly did not realize the extent to which I had packed all of it away in some box in my mind. I never packed him away – just most of the feelings. And when any would rise to the surface, I did little to address them. I worked more on my defense mechanisms than I did any validation of feelings. But right now I am actively trying to work through these feelings. I am thinking about what I truly want. I am letting myself feel, and I am doing as much honest evaluation as I am able to do. I say that because there are still a lot of self-scripted platitudes and defense mechanisms that kick in. I still let them kick in when I recognize that I’ve made some progress and need to let that assimilate into my script.

One of the posts I read recently was titled “Hurting heals and Healing hurts”. Yes, it is a cycle. I don’t think that there is healing in this process, though. It’s a journey and it time to stop living in this patient, waiting state ... aka denial.

I am finally letting myself admit that he is a person I want in my life, someone I did expect to be in my life again. I’ve been afraid to admit this to myself or wish for reunion because I wasn’t sure I’d ever have that opportunity and did not want to live in false hope (but isn’t that what I’ve been doing while waiting all these years, patiently, quietly?!?) and part of me was afraid of reunion. I knew better than to let myself naïvely imagine a joyous, fulfilling occasion but it was easier than imagining what could come out of yet another Pandora’s box of emotions and feelings. (Be careful what you wish for would run in a continuous loop in my mind whenever I think of meeting him again.) Reading about reunions has made me aware of what I may be in for, and has made me make a conscious decision as to whether or not I want reunion. (Thank you to those of you who write about reunion.)

Through this process I have grieved the lost opportunities for asking for contact sooner. But then I remind myself that they may not have wanted that and may have pulled back (stopped the annual letter and picture) as a result. And I have to try to remember who I have been at different points through all these years. It's easy to grieve not having my daughter (and this rewarding experience of motherhood) sooner, it's easy to grieve not knowing my son through phone calls, emails or visits because I wasn't brave enough to ask. But who I was, the experiences I've had, the people I've known ... all would have been different, and all have made me who I am today. And at least I am finally doing something about it now, rather than waiting another three or five years. But I have to be careful to discern if these last two sentences are part of my old script or if it's true. A little of both I presume and I need to figure out how much is true.