The Fallout

I keep staring at the cursor, thinking I need to write.  I need to talk about the visit, I need to say SOMETHING. But there’s nothing there today.  For reasons I don’t think I can really put into words this was an incredibly hard visit for me.  I’m sad today, empty.

Sometimes there is a fallout after a visit, I know that.  Most of the time I try to focus on the good while I settle into the hard, I have come to learn that I have to embrace both, the  hard feelings won’t go away because they aren’t fabricated or false, they aren’t even heightened they are just exposed after a visit so pretending they aren’t there doesn’t help in the healing process.  They are how I feel and I need to feel those and can’t bury them.  But this time what’s been exposed has put me in a position where I don’t know if I can make it through by doing what I normally do.  And to complicate things I’m feeling cut off from talking about it all.

You see, I’m having a hard time feeling at ease with my son and his family, some of these reasons might be based in reality, others might be of my own imagination, but what I’m fearing is that most have some semblance of truth and the more I focus on them and see that nugget of truth, the worse it seems and the more gaping a hole will be created in our relationship.    So I’m trying not to focus on it.  So that means I’m can’t really talk about it because I’m trying not to think about it.

So that leaves me feeling raw, exposed, and cut off from talking about it.  But at the end of the day I’m sad, I feel empty and now I don’t want to talk about why because I’m afraid it will make it all worse.

But I can’t and won’t leave it like that, because even as I muddle through the tough emotions, openness always comes with some joy and that joy should be shared.  So some of the joyful moments – I had the joy of playing trains with J, the joy of getting a couple hugs and kisses from him, the joy of watching him watch the circus and the joy of watching his cousins at the circus as well, the joy of hearing him recite his favorite book.    He’s getting SO big, like completely a 4T wearing, 44 lb 2.5 year old who towers over most kids a year or two older than him.  He still has the baby cheeks and the baby legs and the two year old attitude, just in a big body.  He’s also super smart – memorizes books at an alarming pace and at daycare is tasked to help the kids (most of whom are older than him) with things like getting off their coat or putting on their shoes because he is good at it and if he isn’t helping he gets bored.  He still loves animals but it seems he’s at least starting to show an interest in trains.  He gives joy to his family and everyone who meets him.  He’s a pretty amazing little guy.

And even in my most empty feeling, I never forget him, his joy, his light.  It makes it easier, but it also makes it harder.  I know that doesn’t make much sense, but I’m starting to think open adoption rarely does.