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The feeling of surrealism as I allow my son to be adopted

Yesterday I heard the news that the second psychological evaluation of my husband and me had not been favorable. I cried in the presence of the social worker who has the same first name as my mother. I had to leave the room to collect myself. I pretend that I’m coming to terms with it when I’ve talked to the few people I’ve told so far, but I’m not really in full belief of the reality of what will happen over the next year or so while my little baby boy stays with this family who will take care of him as he grows up.

The adoptive father, Tyler, is in the Navy and will be moving with the whole family sometime next summer. I know intellectually that it is the right thing. By now, I’ve become sure of it. Still, the motherly feelings arise and I feel as if once again it has been shown that I’m unfit, that I haven’t done my job. I know in my mind it’s not the case, but how to I shake this feeling?

My old boyfriend Eric, who is still a friend but I mostly talk over text message, told me that I have to take care of me now. It’s hard to accept. My job should be to take care of my child first and foremost. But now I’m not. I must accept. I’m trying to practice radical acceptance from my DBT (dialectical behavioral therapy) sessions.

I know they love him very much and that he will have the best life this way. I know it, and I know it well. I just feel it’s unfortunate that I have to hear about it maybe from a distance if it at all.

The family agrees with the idea that the social worker suggested of a Facebook page to keep in touch as he gets older. Maybe even as he becomes an adult one day, he will come to look for me. My mother thinks he will. I don’t know what I’ll say to him on that day if and when it happens. Some future events aren’t meant to be prepared for, and I’ll bet that is one of them.

I love my son with 101% of my being. If the best thing for him is to let him be with another family then so be it. I’ll have to get over it.

I talked with a good friend from the housing I used to live at, Shelter Cove. Samson Wright, he contacted me on Facebook. He told me he had a son who would be 11 right now, but he’s in Heaven. He said he’s managed to move on. He agreed it’s rough but you have to move forward. Everyone is saying how strong I am to make this decision. It’s been less my decision than the psychologists’, but I suppose I am making the decision not to contest. I am practicing my belief in peace.

I told my friend Eric that I’m thinking about getting back into art and going to art school, possibly in San Francisco. I talked about being an art educator. That would be later. My financial picture doesn’t allow it right now.

The feeling as I go through this loss is, as the title of this entry says, surreal. I’ll learn to live with the idea that he’ll be probably moving around due to the adoptive father’s job. I’ll learn to appreciate that he has had the best opportunities given to him because of this (I hope). I will still try to include him in financial planning from my family. And he will always be my son. I’ll never forget him, and I’ll always think about him. Always.

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About theworldofwilma

I'm a mom, a wife, a daughter, a niece, a cousin, a patient, a friend, a woman, a client, a parent, a vegetarian, a believer, an environmentalist and probably much more. . . but mostly I'm just me, quirky, silly ol' nonsensical Wilma, and I wouldn't have it any other way. In addition, I am just recently new in the world of self published, self illustrated children's literature. Please see some pictures from my first work. I invite all interest and dialogue from illustration artists, authors, publishers, marketers, writers of all kinds, parents, or anyone interested in the printed word for young readers. I am just starting out and want to learn all I can.

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