I feel it is important to celebrate the victories – no matter how small – as it is to bring light to the tragedy that resulted from my collision with adoption. I refuse to let any one part of my life make the sum total of my life a tragedy, but it doesn’t always feel as though I’m on the winning side of that objective. Reclaiming a piece of me I’d been missing, that seemed to be missing in action, was/is important – no matter how short-lived…as least the girl I knew, and that I liked, before is not completely gone. It’s important to let the light shine on these small little windows of hope because my heart still breaks daily. That which I tried for so long to hold together with masking tape now lies hopelessly in ruins, laid bare before my Creator and for all who care enough to see.
21 years ago today, I gave birth to the most beautiful baby I’d ever seen. I’ve seen a lot of beautiful newborns in my life, and the eyes I see them through are different than the eyes that saw before the birth of my own son. There has never been a more extraordinary newborn in my eyes – before or since.
A part of me is thrilled and proud as I recall the moment I first laid eyes on him. A part of me falls to pieces all over again.
I. Am. Still…broken.