There are some nights when I’m caught off guard.

I miss her everyday. But it’s just part of my reality most days. I accept that she’s not here. It sucks. But I do laundry, play with the boys and generally live my life. But tonight? I found myself actually crying real tears. I don’t cry, outwardly, all that often about missing my daughter. And when I do, I feel very strange.

You know?

I mean. I’m lucky. I have a relationship with her. She got on the phone again the other day and told me, yet again, that she loves playing with me. I’m so darn lucky. But as I was standing here this evening, I was just overwhelmed with missing her. I was awash in the lack of her presence. I stared at her pictures on the wall and tears just poured down my face.

It’s hard. These moments. Sometimes I feel all put together and adjusted to what is our reality as “mother” and “daughter.” But then just one thing will trigger an emotional breakdown. I don’t even know what the trigger was this evening. Perhaps it’s just because she’s on my heart and mind right now. I don’t know.

And it’s evenings like these that make me want to slap people who tell me that I should get over it. Or that I didn’t love my daughter. Or that she’s better off without me. Or that my pain isn’t real because I chose this or since I have a relationship with her. Or any other myriad of stupidity.

I hurt sometimes. More often than I admit to anyone other than my Husband. He sees the tears. He hears my fears. He holds my hand when I can’t find the words to explain the pain. I have faith that if something was to happen to me, he could  explain to her someday that she was always loved, always important and always so very special to me. Even still, I know that’s not enough.

So I suck it up and I push forward. I don’t “move on” or “move forward.” I continue on in my reality, accepting the highs and lows as they come. I often think that lows follow on the coattails of highs. Just simply to remind me not to get too cocky in this fickle world of grief and loss healing.

I don’t have the answers. But I do have a daughter. And she’s awesome. And so is her Mom.

In the words of SNL tonight, I don’t know what the blog I’m blogging about, Sonic the Hedgeblog, so I’m going to go to bed and read for a bit and hope that the Sandman comes before another wave of tears. I hate going to church with puffy,all-night-sobbing eyes. So not awesome.

I can’t get real specific because, well, I don’t even want to. But, I had to share some of it.

As my loyal readers know, I’ve been in therapy for awhile now to deal with a lot of the anger, guilt, grief, loss and so on that are associated with my placing the Munchkin for adoption. Nothing is “resolved,” of course and I don’t expect to one day wake up and no longer feel the after-effects of relinquishment. What we work on is coping with these issues in an appropriate and healthy manner. It’s been a long, arduous process, of course. As of last year, I still managed to flub up some issues in our relationship as I didn’t appropriately handle my own anxiety or communicate it in the proper manner. After that not-so-awesome experience, my therapist really worked with me on avoiding a similar issue.

I’m gonna buy her a cookie. After I buy myself something nice.

Again, I’m not going to be specific. But, suffice it to say, I received some not-super-awesome news. Instead of flipping out and saying things I would regret, I calmly replied. I put myself in the shoes that were being worn for a moment. I considered what I would do in a similar situation. I considered my own family. I considered what I would want for my children. And I responded in an authentically supportive manner. No anger. Honesty. Open communication.

I feel pretty darn proud of myself. I mean, the situation itself isn’t resolved. I’m praying for it a lot. I’m worried about various aspects. But I trust the people involved in it. And, surprisingly, I now trust myself to deal with it on my end. I didn’t fly off the handle. I didn’t say something I regret. I didn’t make someone feel bad for being human and doing the right thing with a difficult situation. I’m kind of sad, yes, but so are the people involved. So that’s not even unique to me.

I put in a lot of work in therapy this past year. I was wondering if it had helped. I was wondering if I would still become impulsive and say stupid things when presented with hard situations. And the work paid off. Honestly? I have tears in my eyes. Unless you’ve been through similar therapy to work through how you respond to situations that are completely out of control, I don’t know if I can actually explain to you how … great? … it feels to see the result of your hard work.

I’ve always talked about open and honest communication. I’ve always talked about respect. I’ve always talked about considering the other side of the coin before lashing out. But I’ve had my own missteps in that process. It’s hard. I mean, not just in open adoption but any relationship. I’ve even noticed myself calming when my Husband gets called out to a fire on Christmas Eve (yes). Some of this “crap” that I deal with is SIMPLY OUT OF MY CONTROL. And learning to accept it has been difficult. Learning to be gracious about what I cannot change is even harder.

But I’ve made progress. And dang if I don’t think that I deserve to treat myself to something new and nice.

I feel proud. Strong. And hopeful. I had hoped I could make it to this point by the time the next “issue” arose. (Because issues will arise, folks. Can’t avoid them.) And I’m hopeful that I’ll just continue to make progress by the time the next issue arises. Progress. It’s good food.

(Thank you for putting up with a vague post!)