Ramblings

I wish things could've been different like the way I got pregnant, stability, and being able to parent. We, as birth moms care more about our babies and what's best for them at the time, not what's best for ourselves. Adoption is hard and love together! It's hard to carry a baby around for 9 months, get attached, love that baby, and wish we were in better situations. But we have that selfless love... We have openness in our adoptions, (most of us birth moms). I think jealousy hits when we are able to be apart of our birth children's lives, see them being loved, and want what we let someone else have. I know it's hard because I see how much T loves my birth daughter and how happy she is to be a mother and it makes me jealous for that! I struggle to keep my head above water daily with grieving, Thinking about what ifs, and kinda hating myself because I loved my birth daughter so much that I knew she deserved more and my mind kept telling me that if I were to parent how happy I'd be, when really I'd go stir crazy... Sorry for the ramblings. All this to say, it's hard watching from a distance and not close up as we want.
Its hard to say how I think she (my birth daughter) will feel because I tried to "prepare" myself for what I thought I'd feel but it was all different for me. I had the adoptive mom and a friend in the delivery room with me... I had so many visitors back to back that I wanted to get to meet my birth daughter, but on the way home from the hospital I felt empty all over, not just because I was leaving w/o my sweet baby girl that I'd just given birth to two days ago, but because I didn't get much alone time with her... The only thing that helps me, post placement are the things that belonged to beloved while we were in the hospital and pictures. I kept those things by my pillow because I felt some nearness. I cant say I've given myself time to grieve, because I can't fully accept that this is real and the feelings and emotions are so raw. But what I can accept is that she is so loved and wanted.