I took the kids sledding last week, and we had a great time until I got plowed down by a teenager on an out-of-control snow tube. I mean plowed down. Tossed like a rag doll-lost a boot in mid air- struck my head on landing. I got CLOCKED!
As I lay on the snow I thought, "I hit my head. Hard. I can't get up."
Then I became aware of crying and my daughter's voice. "Get up, Mommy. Mommy, get up! Get up!!" But I couldn't get up. It was more than a full minute before I could even speak to let her know I heard her, and the impact that had on her will haunt me for a very long time.
At first terrified, she became angry - really angry - when I finally got up. She broke down sobbing, "I thought you were killed! I thought I was going to be without a mother forever! How could I grow up without a mother? You can't leave me like that!"
And in that moment, I didn't care about anyone's "expert" opinion. Adoption is a loss. It is. I know she was talking about me, but I also know that the loss of her first mother waits somewhere inside her. And even if she isn't aware of that loss yet, I am. And the thought of her losing two mothers brings me to my knees.
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