I got an interesting e-mail regarding a previous post in which I stated that this adjustment period would be easier without adoption issues. By “interesting,” of course, I do mean scathing, rude and rather off base. I was accused of “wishing my daughter away” and not “cherishing her being.” I find that pretty incredible, knowing who I am and how I feel about my daughter.

My truth is that I do have a daughter, relinquished for adoption. I love her as much as either of the boys currently making my life busy. They live under my roof and do things like make laundry and big messes. She doesn’t live under my roof, true, and I don’t do her laundry or clean up her daily messes. But, gosh, I love her.

But there are days that I wish for things to be different, even just emotionally. Somedays? I’d would much rather be living in denial. There are days when I wish that I didn’t fully understand everything I have lost by placing her for adoption. There are days when I wish I was still drinking the Adoption Kool-Aid, oblivious to the grief, the loss, the unethical treatment, the lies I was told and the fact that things like that are still happening to mothers and their babies. There are days when I just want the world to switch into “Perfect Mode” so that no one feels like I do, either regarding adoption or even parenting in general. I mean, to be honest? My definition of a “Perfect World” has expanded in the past six days to include the fact that breastfeeding would ALWAYS be easy and painless for mothers so that ALL mothers could breastfeed their children without becoming OMG, SO OVERWHELMED.

But the truth remains that our reality is what it is. I make the best of it. I accept my role in the situation. I accept that since I am no longer in denial, there will be moments (days, weeks, months) of pain. I accept that I can’t have that perfect scenario that I’m dreaming of. I accept my daughter for who she is, no matter who she decides to become.

And I also accept that there will be days when I need a freaking nap.  An ice cream sundae. And a break from adoption.

End NaBloPoMo. (Expect a lull here leading up to Munchkin’s birthday.)