Struggling.


Dear Ms. Feverfew –

I am having a hard go of things right now.

Physically I am spent, even though I have 11 more weeks to go with this pregnancy. I do not know how I am going to make it through these next couple of months. I hurt in places no woman should ever hurt, all thanks to the gortex mesh strewn hither and yon in my girlie bits and nether region. The diastasis symphysis pubis isn’t making things any easier either. The pain of my impending c-section will be bliss compared to this.

Intellectually, I am tapped out. I cannot put together one more cognizant thought about signature pedagogies in education research at the doctoral level, literature reviews in doctoral dissertations, content analysis, rubric design, or adult learning theories.

Spiritually, it feels like I am wandering in the desert. Alone. And the last of my water has run out.

Emotionally…aye, therein lies the rub. That is where I am the most shattered. Broken. Spilled out.

I can’t sum up the strength to talk about what ails me right now. I just break into random fits of tears and overwhelming grief throughout the day and night.

In short, I am struggling.

That’s a nice, polite, unoffensive way of saying that this crappy adoption grief feels like it never dies but lives on and become more compounded through the years, especially when it is ignored, stuffed, marginalized, minimalized… or talked about over roast beef and potatoes as if it is a natural price to pay for the sin of being a single mother.

That is all I have to say today.

Love,

M.

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6 thoughts on “Struggling.

  1. (((((Melynda))))))) I know exactly what you are talking about- I am so sorry you are feeling this way. I wish I could hug you for real and give you a shoulder to lean on and cry on- because honey that’s what you need. Grief is all tied up in this thing you are going through- and somedays it’s compounded because we don’t let it out- Now I have a new writing prompt- I did one today on Names-

    XOXOX Maryreunited using a different account to post under oops!

    • Thanks Maryreunited using a different account. 🙂 I wish you were around to give me a hug, I could certainly use one about now. I can’t even talk to my husband about this stuff – it isn’t that he wouldn’t listen, it’s just that I can’t. It’s like the words get stuck somewhere between my brain and my mouth and nothing comes out.

      I know I am having a wretched go of things right now because of this pregnancy. For some reason, I was able to divorce myself from the adoption loss garbage when I was pregnant with my boys but this time around…

      Oi vey. It sucketh.

  2. Melynda ~ it sucks that adoption grief seeps into everything, even happy things.

    This statement could be written by me. “I can’t even talk to my husband about this stuff – it isn’t that he wouldn’t listen, it’s just that I can’t. It’s like the words get stuck somewhere between my brain and my mouth and nothing comes out.” I completely understand this, and how it just adds to the adoption mess.

    So yes, I strongly agree ~ it sucketh!
    Susie

    • Susie –

      Welcome to my little blog. It’s always nice to “meet” new readers. This adoption mess does seem to seep into many things, doesn’t it? My sweet neighbor is throwing a baby shower for me this Friday and I am dreading it. I should be thrilled that many of my dearest friends are getting together and celebrating this new baby but I just want to close the blinds, lock my door, and lay in bed and cry instead. Everyone is so excited for me that I am “finally” having a girl. Few of them know I already have a daughter who is graduating from high school this year. Those that do know don’t seem to grasp how difficult this is for me. Should be an interesting evening.

      Also, I am glad to know I am not the only one who has a hard time talking about this with the husband. It truly does add to the adoption mess – he thinks he has done something wrong and I can’t even tell him it isn’t him! Sometimes I wish he would just get mad and yell at me instead of being so tender and patient, then at least I would have something concrete to scream and yell about. Instead I just sit there and feel even worse because I lack the ability to talk to this man who adores and cherishes me and thinks I am the most perfect of all of God’s creations.

      Gotta go be a mom this morning –

      M.

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