I have always loved to dance. As an adult adoptee, a bio mom, and an adoptive mom, I dance between love and loss regularly. I dance with joy over small victories and small signs of acceptance. I dance to escape pain and to avoid obvious rejection from my family(ies). Let me continue to dance with the pain, the understanding, the surrender, His plan, and not faint.

 On a good day, any of these can make me feel badly–hurt for a while.  I may get angry instead of allowing myself to feel hurt.  But on a bad day, a simple goodbye can send me hurling back to my birthparents leaving me–all the way back.

Yesterday, my parents said goodbye to our family after being here only 2 1/2 days.  They started the drive home this morning.  I was a wreck last night–curled up on the floor in tears, and still need a day today to recover.  😦  I am heartsick still.  Perhaps it’s just part of my process in accessing how I feel about being placed for adoption, because other times when they have visited and left, I’ve reacted in a proportionately normal way.  But this time, I cried like a baby by myself for a while, and then some while my husband listened.

It is a taste of being left/being rejected that I cannot tolerate.  And there are so many in my birthfamily for whom I have pined, searched, layed myself out–who have then chosen to keep me out of their lives, that I can’t bear letting go of almost anyone.  Here lies my “what is wrong with me” currently status:  being shut out leaves me almost physically ill/physically debilitated.  Being ignored/”left”/shut out makes me feel ashamed (as if there is really something wrong with me–that there was even when I was born or my birthparents would have kept me).  It leaves me feeling out of control and helpless to fix or change anything.  It leaves my self-esteem in a pile–that I am not worth the attention.

That one especially–that I am not worthy of attention.

I can tell that my “being left” wound is gaping as I can’t handle goodbyes in a movie today.  I can tell that my “self-esteem” wound is gaping as I am not even self-assured enough to be around my children.  I can tell that my “there is something wrong with me” wound is gaping as I see myself as not capable of producing something good right now.

I need a day to feel.  I will return to doing.  But right now, I need a day to feel the loss:  the loss that my parents went home which pricks open the reminders of the loss of my birthfamily.

Here is all of this that I throw-up/out, and I think of my daughter Naika and see that we are both coping in our own ways.

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