Fear and Guilt

Well first of all I feel like I've got to get a few things out of the way. First, thank you all for the love and support as we welcome home our son in the most unexpected way. It's been two full weeks since we met, and everyday just gets better. I know for many of you reading this your heart still hurts. Your arms ache for a son or daughter of your own. Believe me friends, I still remember, so thank you for your love, encouraging words, and sweet gifts in a time where you yourself are not rejoicing. We continue to feel so loved. Secondly, as the last few weeks have been an absolute whirlwind, I'm sure some of you are confused... Since when does Amanda have a son? Don't worry, I think those same things everyday. You can get caught up on the story here and here.

You guys, mom guilt is real. I hadn't even met my son when I first felt guilty. The Friday night that we told the agency we were coming down for him, was a restless night. Sam was out of town trying to be responsible and focus on the continuing education course that his employer had already purchased. Anytime Sam's gone, my sleep suffers, but this night I had quite a bit to think about. I finally went to sleep only to wake up feeling miserably guilty and devastated that my son wouldn't be breastfed. This is in no way a statement for or against breastfeeding. I actually didn't realize I felt so strongly about breastfeeding until that moment. I had done a lot of research and intended to induce lactation if I had four or more weeks notice, but I knew (or at least I thought I knew) that sometimes breastfeeding is just not an option in adoption. And truthfully, a large part of my desire to breastfeed was for bonding and attachment. But that night I woke up and just felt so insanely guilty that I couldn't breastfeed this precious little boy. 

I still feel guilty about it. Just about every healthcare professional has recommended breastmilk for my little guy for one reason or another. Thankfully my cousin had a baby just a few days after he was born and she has donated some, but I still feel guilty that I, his mom, has to rely on someone else to provide for him. Honestly, it's probably a pride thing more than anything else. I've slowly come to see that this is just one of 10,000 things that I will probably feel guilty for over the next 20 or so years. 

Another thing that I'm coming to terms with is that motherhood is full of fears, or at least my experience is. There's obviously the very real possibility that the birth father could still come forward, and if I think on it too long, that fear is crippling. In true ignorance is bliss fashion, I generally don't think about it. But there are plenty of other fears that I do think about. I think most new moms worry if their babies are breathing. I'm no different. In fact, coming out of the NICU may be worse. In the NICU I had a monitor to tell me his heart rate, breathing rate, and oxygen levels. I literally sat for hours watching the green, yellow, and blue lines. Some times those lines were really scary. Alarms would go off. Nurses would come check on him. Now we're off the monitors and there's nothing to tell me if his heart rate is too high, or, more likely, if his oxygen levels are dangerously low. 

In addition to normal new mom fears like "is he breathing," "is he eating enough," or "is he in pain," I keep having reoccurring nightmares where he dies in some awful way. When we were in the hotel, I dreamed the hotel caught on fire and we were trapped inside. The firemen couldn't get to our window so they screamed that I should toss him. You can imagine what happened, I'm sure. I also regularly have images flash through my head of tripping, dropping him, falling on him, etc. I've watched his little head bust open on the concrete in my mind so many times.

In the midst of my self doubt, guilt, and fears, I'm learning a lot, not the least of which is one handed typing. I'm also learning to love and trust in whole new ways. A sweet friend shared this with me, and I'm finding it to be a great reminder every day. She said, "God loves and cares for him even more than you and Sam do and will take care of him." Thankful that that is true. The Lord promises that he knew my little guy long before I even knew he existed, and He has loved him well.

That's all that I can type with two fingers today, except that I'll add this: my dear, sweet friend A found out last Thursday that her fifth transfer failed. She is now out of frozen embryos, which is completely heartbreaking! She is also preparing to switch clinics which is incredibly overwhelming! Do me a favor and stop by her blog and give her some love and support. She's a one in a million and I'm rooting for her until she brings her baby home!