hard as stone

it's been a long time coming.  
it's not about what "she" did to me, but about what i unknowingly let happen.  

over dinner in london will and i talked a lot about adoption #2.  we've been talking about it, praying about it, thinking about it - so many things to consider with #2 that weren't there with #1.  

there, when he told me that he felt like i was different since "that" time, it finally dawned on me that he was right and that since "that" day i've not really allowed myself to be myself.  i've been guarded. 

then, at created for care i spoke to an internet friend (that's what i call people that i stalk the blogs of but have never before met in person) and she told me about a similar situation and it struck a cord in me and reiterated the importance of following up on what will and i talked about the week prior.

then, after that i spoke to another internet friend over the phone and she and i chatted about these "things" that happen and the kind of ache it leaves on your heart.  i was finally talking about the actual neglect of the processing.

see, ever since september 6th 2011 - it's been hard for me to process my emotions.

it all goes back to august 4th, 2011.  on that day we had a face to face meeting with a family that was considering adoption for their baby.  the baby was due in just under a month and somehow our hearts thought that this was the one.  looking back (and even at the time) i think we just wanted to be parents so badly that we were taking all of these random "signs" as divine messages which really had nothing to do with anything at all.  we saw "the plan" in the situation's details and somehow my heart just knew this was it and we were finally going to be parents.  

i'll never forget going out into the parking lot after the meeting and standing by our car and just wailing ugly crying.  we were standing there under a tree that had prematurely (for the season) already started to lose some leaves.  i was wearing a navy blue dress and had my hair cut similarly to the way it is now.  the air was a bit warm, but not overly hot.  i was almost shaking because of these raw emotions.  will just stood there and hugged me in the parking lot.  the release was so intense i just could not hold it back.  then, it probably did not help that we allowed family to throw us a baby shower a few weeks later.  we got all sorts of cute little pink things, things with bows, things with ruffles, things with girly adornments.  it started making things really seem real.  this freight train was moving ahead - full speed ahead.

then nothing.  
breaks.  
zero.  

we waited past the due date, cancelled a pre-planned vacation and sat on pins and needles.  sleepless nights had already kicked in and i just knew this nervous energy was preparing me for a baby to come home.  but the days turned into weeks and our hopes started to fade.  then, on september 6th we were informed by an email from our social worker that the mother had actually given birth several weeks prior and elected to keep the baby.  then - just like that - it was over.

people have asked me if it was like a miscarriage.  i honestly think it was worse than the two miscarriages i have had.  the babies i carried never made it past 12 weeks, so in my preparedness in our home and in our hearts we never really got so far as to think that a baby would be coming into our house in a few weeks.  for me this really felt like a miscarriage at 9 months.  mourning the loss was hard.  i was grieving a baby that was never mine.  the baby hadn't died, i'd never seen her, never held her - she wasn't our baby.  however, that fact - even though we knew it - did not make it any easier to handle.

that same day we put our profile book back to active.  i wasn't wasting anymore time on hold and just longed to be a mom.  somehow it felt right at the time, but looking back now it was probably all too fast to fully process the grieving.

this is how i was handling it all at the time.  it definitely felt like i was processing it all, but the disconnect started even then:
eventually there will be peace 

but, that was the time that daxton's birthmother started looking at books.  she looked at ours, looked at some others, and then came back to our book.  perhaps if it wasn't in the pile when it was, she wouldn't have seen it and today i wouldn't be drawing choo-choo's on his chalkboard wall and hearing him scream "wow - too-too, yeah!"  it's possible i wouldn't get to be dax's mom.  (which is something i just cannot fathom.) 

we know that everything happens for a reason and we don't need to know the why behind everything and that we won't know the why behind everything that happens in our lives.  however, i'm still trying to understand this "practice" dry run failed match.

it hardened me.  made me less of a crier and harder to pull emotions out of.  even my dad has noticed.  nothing really makes me cry anymore, except for the fact that nothing makes me cry.  you ask yourself - why would you want to be a crier?  but, i was previously a very emotional person.  the kind of person who kept nothing in and spilled my guts to everyone.  and the parallel with the crying is the same as my ability to share, to feel, to get excited about things anymore.  everything just seems run of the mill and i am a quiet keep to yourself kind of person.  very guarded.  very protected.  it's a hard thing to know and then again even harder to know how to stop "being" this way when its not how you want to be.

awareness is half the battle, right?  

well, consider me aware.  extremely aware.