I’ll write my thoughts on this later. I grabbed this from my personal journal and am cross-posting it to this blog. I have a lot to write on this post later but we’re in the midst of packing. My mind is in twelve million different places!

Today is quite emotional. Tonight I will have dinner with the adoptive parents: J and D. My Mom and Dad will be there as will Jua as forms of support. Of course, I will keep my chin up. I will act as though this is the most normal thing that anyone has ever done. I mean, everyone hands their brand new screaming baby over to people they don’t really know, right? I think that I will have J drive me and him separately so that I can cry afterwards. I will cry.

It’s funny. Back in the day when we were friends, Beth and I used to joke that someone should follow us around with a video camera because we lead such comedic lives. It would have made a hilarious reality sitcom. Now I feel as though I’m part of some badly written teen/young adult drama. It’s even worse than Felicity. Right now and I fear for quite some time part of the soundtrack will include the song “Baby” which is just about to come out on Dave Matthews’ solo debut. He wrote it for his twins as a lullaby. It’s striking far too close to home with that knowledge and the words.

I will hear the song over dinner tonight. “Baby, it’s all right. So stop your crying now.” We will be making small talk, discussing things about the child. “Nothing is here to stay.” The future and what it does or doesn’t hold. “Everything has to begin and end.” Oh, yes. I fear that as soon as I step into the Mustang after dinner that I shall let forth a river of tears that I haven’t yet. True, I’ve cried. Oh, I’ve cried left and right. However, tonight’s dinner will make everything all the more real. I will be handing my precious, precious Munchkin over to these people in less than three months. Sweet baby.

I will never understand why doing something that I know is so right hurts so, so bad. I am literally giving away a piece of my heart, myself. This child has half of my genes! It really is a physical giving away of myself. And that feels so strange. My motherly instinct wants to hold onto this child and say, “No! This child is mine! You can’t have!” What good would that do anyone? What good do I ever do anyone?

I’m sorry, dear Munchkin. I know that you didn’t ask for this.

And I don’t think that I will ever be able to listen to this song after December. It’s too close to home. Too close.

Enough. I have to pull myself together. I need to go look like a normal person for the day with my hair done and normal (maternity! Ha!) clothes on and a smile. A smile? How the hell does one smile during a situation like this?

How does one continue breathing?

So much to say. But later. Just take that in for now.