My Peanut is now 14 months old and is doing all kinds of things that little boys do. He's walking, playing with trucks (and making the cutest little buzzing sound when he does!), and...talking. I am surprised at how hard this latest milestone has been for me to accept. Part of it (well, all of it) is because he's saying "Mommy." And every time I think of that, I hate myself a little bit because he's not saying it to ME, and I'm the reason he's not. Don't get me wrong, I know he's in a great place; I know he has everything he could ever need and more than he could ever want. The problem is that I don't get to have him. The problem is that sometimes I miss him so much I can't breathe. The problem is that now I can't sleep because I can't stop thinking about him.
The problem is that I did the right thing.
Mostly that's what it feels like. I know that I did the right thing, for the right reasons, for the right people, but sometimes it feels like the worst thing I could have ever done. Tonight is one of those times. I miss my little boy, and I want him here with me. And that is that plain, albeit selfish, truth. The guilt of feeling like this, by the way, just compounds the grief. I should be, and am in all reality, unspeakably grateful for my son's adoptive family and for his happiness, health, and safety. But tonight I just feel like it's not fair that he's all of those things in someone else's house. I want him to be happy, healthy, and safe, and sleeping in MY arms...
I don't feel like this all the time. In fact, most of time, I can "self-soothe" with the best of them. Instead of wishing that MY life looked different with Peanut in it, I am usually grateful that HIS life is so happy, even if that means I'm not with him. I am so blessed to be the mother of such a precious little guy... sometimes I just get jealous that so many other people get to be so special to him.
But this was the deal I made with myself when I decided to give Peanut up for adoption: I would deal with whatever messiness came with the adoption in exchange for him not having to deal with any of the messiness that would have come from me keeping him. And since the messiest his life has been so far has been when he's dumped his toys all over the floor, I know I made the right choice. And so, even when it's that last thing I feel capable of doing, I will choose to be happy about that : )
