Phoenix

Grief isn't selfish, wrong, or untrue.

Grief is a natural response to missing you.

(Author Unknown)

My family and I are trying to heal right now.

We have been working with a birth mother since Dec 28, 2012.

She found us at our agency.

She picked us.

She met us.

She "officially" chose us...

and a relationship between us began.

Her name "E", and her friend "C" was always by her side--usually being her voice of reason.

We talked and/or texted nearly every day.

We went to dinner, we laughed, we shared stories, we were friends.

I took her shopping. I felt pity for her and her situation.

 I helped her, sometimes with no thank you in return.

We shared her sonogram appointments and photos.

We collaborated on a name.

I was reassured several, several times the plan was moving forward.

But---sometimes things change.

Phoenix.

Sunday Feb 17, 2013

I was doing dishes. B got the call from our case worker. E went into labor yesterday morning and didn’t contact us at all. She told the case worker she  is keeping Phoenix. We have no other explanation other than our case worker is very very sorry. A piece of my heart ripped from my chest. I sank to the floor with B holding me, screaming and bawling hysterically. Unfortunately N was there and was scared and saw me at my worst. My heart is shattered. I don’t understand. I just don’t understand. 

Phoenix is gone.

********************************

I feel numb. I cannot believe this happened. I feel stupid. I feel used. I’m in shock. I am hurt. I am broken.

I texted her, saying that I just found out she had given birth and how I prayed the very best for Phoenix. 

There was no reply back. I waited…but nothing.

Nothing.

 

I need closure. This is not how this is going to end for me.

I had B drive me to the hospital despite he thinking that was a bad idea. I met with E face to face. She was coming out of the bathroom smiling and muttered something. I saw Phoenix from across the room. A nurse was trying to feed him. He was tiny probably about 5 lbs. with messy light brown hair. C looked at me from across the room with a look of guilt and sadness. E acted like her immature self, trying to play off like it was just a normal day. 

I stared at her. 

I finally asked, “Why didn’t you call me?” 

She replied, “Well…I didn’t want to like…bother you and b on the weekend and…stuff I dunno.”

*Silence*

 I shook my head at her, and I choked back my tears even though my face and eyes were obviously swollen from crying. 

I whispered, “You broke my heart.” 

I gave her back Phoenix’s sonogram pictures and the pictures she colored for N. I gave E a hug and told her I wish Phoenix the best. I couldn’t look at Phoenix again, so I left the room. I left the hospital even though I don't remember walking downstairs.

I never heard from E or C again.

This is the risk of adoption.

It isn't without pain, or sometimes broken promises.

I understand E's want for her baby. I totally get it.

I just wish that I would have been told it was falling apart before it was already over...

and I wish it wasn't over.

I love you Phoenix, we all do.

I will continue to pray only good things for you and your mother.

But you are not my son. Only in my heart.

God please provide us direction and healing...

courage and strength...

and support by family and friends to help us get through.

 Heal our hearts so we may move ahead

and find the one that is waiting for us.

 

~heather