We’re now well into April and our foster baby, Baby A, is still with us. At some point along the way he began to feel like my baby, my child. And yet I know I will have to let him go. The heartache I will experience, the loss Big J, Little J, and Little E will feel, brings to mind his birth mother. His birth father if he knows of Baby A’s existence.
What must it have been like for his birth mother, for my kids’ birth moms, to say goodbye knowing she had to let go? Where did she find the courage? Has she ever regretted her decision? I don’t know her, anything about her. Is she young, too young to care for her baby? Is she overwhelmed? Did she make the choice she did to give Baby A a life she can’t provide? I always wonder. Always respect her choice.
Because I can only imagine what she’s faced. My years were spent longing for a baby I couldn’t have, not coming to terms with placing a baby I couldn’t keep. I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again. Adoption always involves loss. But there is beauty to be found within the grief, within the hardness.
And I’m grateful for this opportunity to love and lose someone.
Yes, grateful. Because it shows that Big J and I can open our hearts, that my kids can open theirs, even when confronted with the reality of losing someone we love. Because once Baby A is placed we will probably never hear from his adoptive family. Confidentiality and other such nonsense. I won’t know if he sleeps through the night or takes his bottles. Won’t know if he cries because he doesn’t know the strangers who are already beginning to love him. Won’t know if he transitions beautifully because we’ve given him the chance to develop healthy bonds, so he’ll know how to do it again.
And it breaks my heart. And yet it brings me joy to think of him being welcomed into a family who will love him even more than I do. Who will love him the way I love Little J and Little E. Because they are forever my own. Just like he will be forever their own.
grace for each moment, one moment at a time