This is simply not  good week for me to be overcome with adoption angst. I knew The Anniversary would be falling in the middle of this week. I thought I was emotionally prepared. But I am not.

I saw this AP image last night of the aftermath of the tsunami in Japan. This is what adoption loss feels like some days. Today. This week.

My culture and religion tells me that I chose this, therefore I deserve this. They tell me I should be grateful for this. When I cry out for help I am told, “So sorry, that happened far too long ago for us to do anything to help. We simply can’t do anything for you now. But look! Look how wonderful things are now! Things are so different!!! Look how happy and thrilled everyone else is about the miracle and blessing of adoption!!!”

Thanks. Thanks for making sure that salt gets down to the deepest places of my woundedness. Thanks for the Christlike mercy as you grind it in, as thoroughly as possible.

Actually, no thanks.

On days like today – weeks like this week – I desperately wish I could unknow what I know, that I could unfeel what I feel, that somehow I could go back to being at least marginally blissful and unfeeling. I long for those days when I was still anesthetized, oblivious to the searing loss that never seems to quite go away and unaware of the devastation that awaited me five, ten, fifteen years…eighteen years later in March.

But I cannot unknow it and I cannot unfeel it, any more than the woman in that picture can unfeel what she is going through and will go through for years to come.

I just have to wade through it as best as I can and simply endure.

11 thoughts on “Aftermath

  1. I do not have words to help or ease your pain, but know that you are loved and there are many of us here for you. You may still go down the same road but you are no longer totally alone. If there is anything I can do to help you please let me know.


    • *sniff sniff* Thank you so much, Jeannette. Knowing I have some friends out there who have walked this path and survived makes it a bit more bearable.

  2. What a week for the anniversaries. So sorry 😦

    I think we as LDS church members get told a lot to be thankful for our trials. Which feels so hollow when you’re in the depths of despair. What happened to you is never going to be okay and you’re never going to “get over” it. Gosh, I hate that phrase “get over.” I hope that things can be made right in time. I have faith that they will.

    I’m sure you hate being told to be grateful for adoption as much as I hate being told my mother is in a better place. I feel like M’Lynn in “Steel Magnolias,” when she says, “maybe I’m just selfish because I’d rather have her here.” For the record, no parent who wants to parent their child is selfish. Just like I’m not selfish for wishing my mom was here instead of my Guardian Angel.

    • Yes, Marissa, I imagine it would probably feel the same be to be told your mom is in a better place. My older sister died in a car accident and I have talked about this very thing with my mom and her experience with losing her oldest daughter to death.

      And oh man…I sob my guts out every time over that Steel Magnolias movie.

    • You know that they always say, this too shall pass. Hopefully I can keep it together long enough to get the work I need to get done for school. Nothing like trying to navigate through adoption woes with looming deadlines, eh?

  3. That picture…it’s so raw, and so….exactly what I felt. It’s what I feel like this week. Thanks for linking me to this post. I may steal the picture, and link back to this post on my blog too.

    We are kindred spirits it seems. I’m quite glad we’ve managed to stumble upon one another.

    • I felt the same way when I was reading your blog this morning. And please feel free to use the picture in any way you see fit. It is a very evocative picture and I often wonder what has come of the woman.

  4. Pingback: A Picture Says It All | A WordPress Site

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