You've Got (No) Mail

Since Roo was placed on Wednesday, I have gotten e-mail every day from P and M. It's been great to read about my Roo - how she's eating and sleeping, what she's been up to, what relatives she has met. I read every e-mail at least ten times, at least four when I first get it and many, many times thereafter. And when I get each new message, I read every message over again, in chronological order.

I hadn't realized how I'd come to rely on my daily RooMail until today. I didn't get any e-mail today. I know it's foolish to expect that they have time every single day to send me e-mail. They are busy people, with two children under two, and lots of family visiting. I don't - I can't - expect them to update me every single day on Roo's progress.

And yet I sort of wish they would. Today I feel I especially could have used some Roo news, to make me feel better again about my decision. It's not like there is ever a second of the day that I don't wonder where Roo is, and with whom, and what she is doing, and how she is doing. I think constantly of what she'd be doing were she here with me, and wonder what new routines she has. There is never a time when I don't wonder what she's up to and if she's happy.

I have spoken to S, and to a few birth mothers I know, and the consensus seems to be that in a few weeks the pain won't be quite so fresh, quite so acute. Unfortunately, no one has any suggestions as to what I am supposed to do in the meantime. How do I occupy my time while the pain is still fresh?

I've just re-read all my RooMail and I'm feeling a bit better. But still ... I wonder how her first day at church was. I wonder how many people fussed over her, complimented her sweet face and sweeter disposition, what little outfit she wore, how many people were surprised to see P and M with a new baby (they planned on surprising a lot of people). I wonder if she was good during church. If she tried to sing during the hymns. If she napped at all. Every iota of information about that baby is absolutely fascinating to me.

I wonder if I'm doing myself a disservice, being so brutally honest about things on this blog. I think P and M read it sometimes, and I'm not sure who else does. I don't want P and M to feel like they've got some mentally unstable birth mother they're tied to, or one who is overly demanding or not understanding.

But then, I think, I would be doing myself a disservice if I was dishonest about my feelings through this process. I think that, later on, it will be good for me to read this and see how I've progressed. And maybe there is another birth mother out there, or potential birth mother, who can benefit from my story - not just my story, but my complete honesty about the emotional toll that adoption takes.

I don't want to forever feel so acutely the loss of Roo. It's all very fresh right now - it was only four days ago, for Pete's sake! - but I hope that someday soon I will be able to better control my emotions and share my story. S has invited me to go on what she calls "the circuit," telling my adoption story. I'm looking forward to it.

I'll need to condense it a bit, obviously. The whole world does not need to know about my emotional waffling and gentle sobbing. But I think there is definitely a message in my adoption story. I think it's that it is never too late to do the right thing for your baby.

And that e-mail helps.