Grief

NOT BAD NEWS, JUST THOUGHTS...

Sorry, I felt like I had to begin with a disclaimer or people would assume the worst. On to the regular post.


Not that long ago, I read, "Grief isn't something you move past- it is a weight that you learn to carry." I can't find it now, so I can't cite the source, but the truth of it has lived with me and helped me understand grief better. Don't worry- we're not in some awful place right now- I'm just being introspective. That's probably why I can write about it with some clarity instead of watching Sleepless in Seattle on repeat. What- you've never done that?

I think there are things we grieve that have so little weight that we forget them almost entirely (like high school boyfriends). They feel heavy with loss at the time because we haven't adjusted to the new burden, but then we barely even notice them.

There are things we mourn that we only feel occasionally, like the times I miss Los Angeles. This type of a loss feels heavy momentarily, like the strap of my backpack slipped off for a moment, but then it balances back out.

Then, it seems, there are losses that are so heavy that they are a part of who we are- struggles that cause an almost consistent ache, burdens that may feel slightly lighter over time, but the load you bear can never be rid of these. The trick, I'm finding, is to learn how to carry those so that we continue to move forward, instead of being buried by them.

Yesterday we had our now 2 year old's birthday party (!) and I was talking with a fellow foster mom about how she's going to talk to her kids about their birth parents. She has two bio kids and two foster sons, about the same age as our two sons, and these four sweet boys have suffered such devastating losses in their few years- losses I will never completely understand, and losses that they don't fully comprehend yet. These are things we will have to discuss, and we are committed to discussing openly to fight the stigma surrounding adoption and foster care... but that doesn't mean it's easy, or even that it will get easier.

Paul and I have grieved many things in our combined years, some of those things more tangible than others. He lost his father after years of separation, and I watched him grieve not only the loss of his father, but also the loss of what could have been- possible reconciliation, possible grandparenting, possible friendship even. We grieved the loss of our expectations through the fertility struggles- the adorable White Picket Fence family we had planned was no longer a likelihood, and the loss of that dream was difficult. We grieved What Might Have Been, as so many do.

Even now, my grief feels so small when I have these two amazing blessings in front of me- these two wonderful children that have so much more to grieve than I will ever know. We prepare for those conversations, but what do we say? How do we prepare them for a time when this grief will be a thing that they have to carry more independently?

I don't have an answer, but I know that we are devoted to trying. We will help them carry this weight for as long as possible, as many others helped us carry our burdens. We can't carry it all, and we can't carry it forever, but we will try to teach them how to persevere and come out stronger because the other option is sinking beneath it all, and what kind of a life is that?

Thank you for the many people that helped us carry our various weights until we were ready to handle the losses more independently- we are in debt to those that kept us looking towards the horizon.



In other news-

We are SO STINKING CLOSE to this adoption being done! We have a tentative court date (that has already changed once), but the boys should legally be ours by the end of April!  Let's just pray my heart doesn't give out before then. Sorry I'm awful at the updates- let's all pretend I'm going to get better at that, okay?