About Cheerio

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In general I am a cheery and energetic person. But I am enshrouded in a cloak of iron. That cloak is the weight of greiving my son, whom I've lost to adoption.

Tuesday, January 29, 2008

Poem to "My Lost Loved One"

I am standing here in darkness of night.
Surrounding me are trees and vines, 
Coldness and fright.
There is a dense fog encircling me.
It covers the ground, 
Swirls around the trees.
A fog of thoughts and memories
It chills my skin, 
Makes it impossible to see.
How did I get to this haunting place?
Alone, I look around 
But no footprints can be traced.
Mocking voices carry thru the air
“You know what you did- 
Did you know it would lead you here?”
Why is it I keep hearing his name?
I echo the sounds, 
Crying out to him just the same?
I listen intently to hear a reply.
None is returned. 
Of course not! That part of me has died.
The sting of truth, the pain it inflicts
I should have held on to you 
Instead I released my grip.
My heart, it aches like never before.
The pain is intense. 
I can’t believe they closed the door.
In my anger and pain I furiously swing.
Trying to ward off 
Taunting thoughts attacking my brain.
It's of null affect on this fog in the dark
I sink to the ground 
From the weight of grief overtaking my heart.
My little boy, little boy, my firstborn son
I let go of you 
When I should have brought you home.

Friday, January 4, 2008


This journal page was actually written 12/1/07, and I'm just posting it here, so I can keep it together with the rest of my on-line journal.


There was recently a post on a forum I’ve joined. One woman asked the qustion “Why do some women say they ‘lost’ their child to adoption?’

It is indeed an excellent question. Since I am one of those women, I replied the following: I used to say that I placed my son to adoption. I agreed to a semi-open adoption. All I wanted from his adoptive parents was pictures once a year.

I realize now that it was smoke. 
 Semi-open adoption is a myth. It doesn't really exist, because there is nothing legally binding (in my state) to enforce 'promises'.

So, when the pictures stopped, 
I lost sight of my son, literally.

I don't have identifying information (last names, county, or city) so I don't know where he is - THEY may know where he is, but I don't...so to me he is lost.

I also use the term lost, becuase it's like the sand that slipped through the hourglass. You can never have that time back again – it’s lost.
 I'll never be able to see him as a cute little boy, I'll never be able to watch him ride his bike for the first time, he'll say the 'darndest things' and I won't hear them. 

He's grown from infant clothes, through tots, elementary school. I'll never be able to see him building friendships- growing- and learning through those stages of life. The time is gone, forever lost

The experiences he had, without me being a part – they’re lost.

Lost, because that's how my heart feels sometimes. It’s wandering in loneliness and searching in darkness, hoping someday to be found. 

But for now, it’s just lost.

And when something is lost or missing, the experience is loss. My son who is missing from my life, from my sight, from my love -- the loss is intense, deep, and tragic. 

Here are some of Webster's definitions of 'lost' :
-no longer known
-ruined or destroyed physically or morally; DESPERATE
-taken away or beyond reach or attainment: DENIED
-unable to find the way
-no longer visible
-lacking assurance: HELPLESS;---this to me is the heaviest of all.

I am a mom who lost her son to adoption. 
It definitely describes where I'm at.