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.

Friday, April 2, 2010

Are you gonna celebrate?

Wednesday mornings we have a team meeting at 9am. Those who are in the office are expected to join in person, rather than just dial in on the conference line.

During the past few months there have been a few weeks I’ve skipped the personal appearance. Instead I dialed in while I sat in my office with the door closed. I felt like I was doing the rest of the team a favor. I figured that no one really wants to sit across the table from someone with puffy eyes, a red nose, and face all blotchy -- obviously from crying.

The drive into work in the mornings is still a time of struggle for me. When I first started back to work last October, I was crying every morning during the 20 minute drive. Now it’s down to crying most mornings, which I guess is an improvement?

Wednesday of this week, during the drive I teetered. I felt the overwhelming sadness the hurt. It was incredibly intense (again and yes, still). My chest and throat tightened and the tears welled up, but somehow I was able to keep them from spilling over. I sat in my car a few minutes to gain my composure before gathering my stuff to head into the building.

The big hand edged closer to the 9 and I reluctantly gathered my stuff to head off to our status meeting. I felt very uncomfortable when Cottonmouth sat directly across from me (background on him is found in this prior post). I know that I need to address the unresolved issues there, but I am just not ready yet. I am not as violently angry at him as I felt a few months ago. So I know the time will soon come, but until then I will try to manage.

The meeting was the usual stuff, nothing out of the norm. At the end of the meetings they usually mention any company anniversaries or team members with a birthday. Thursday, April 1st is my birthday, and I knew it would be mentioned. Which I’m ok with, I like to celebrate birthdays. It’s a great opportunity to stop and take the time to let someone know what they mean to me personally.

So, of course my birthday was mentioned and there was a little chatter around the table. I mean, there could not have been a more fitting day for me to enter this world. I love to make people laugh and pulling pranks is a gift handed down thru the generations. Yes, I’m an April Fools baby, and it fits me to a T.

But this year is different. This year it’s hard.
This year early April was supposed to be our Little Flower bud’s birthday too.

This year I should have had a baby shower, not a birthday party. I should be doing the finishing touches on a nursery, and making sure my ‘hospital bag’ was packed. My birthday this year was supposed to be about the best gift in the world due to arrive any day.
I wanted so much to look into those eyes, to embrace her little body close to mine. I wanted to see the peacefulness on her face as she slept. I wanted the tiny little fist to wrap her tiny little fingers around my thumb.

But she is gone as are the hopes, wishes, and dreams I had for her, for us.
All the happiness I had thinking about my hubby finally getting to be a Dad. What I have instead is a cold stone to memorialize what will never be. It has no birth date engraved. It only symbolizes the death. How can someone die before they were even born?

So, as the comments of my own birthday were made around the table, my mind immediately went to her, and all the thoughts I already grappled with on my way into work. When a co-worker asked if I was “going to celebrate” I could barely hold it in anymore and I hid my face as I meekly answered “yes.” I was saying ‘yes’ just so the subject could pass quickly. But another person commented “Of course she’ll celebrate!” While another person said, “it beats the alternative.”

“…the alternative” is what I am already facing and I couldn’t hold it in anymore and I started to cry. The room quickly grew quiet and the meeting was dismissed. I was embarrassed as I gathered my stuff and quickly slipped away to my office without making eye contact with anyone. I closed the door and cried for the next two hours.

With her due date being only one week away, I don’t want to celebrate. I don’t want to clink glasses together and make a toast. I don’t want to laugh carelessly and pretend that life is grand and beautiful and wonderful and perfect.

Not right now.
Not today.
Maybe that time will come again. But for now I just want to get the tears out. I have another hole in my heart It needs to heal and mend some.

I am sure that I will always be sad to an extent. But at least I will have closure, unlike the ongoing and growing torment I feel about my son. With her I won’t have to look in the mirror and wonder (as I already do about him) where is she? -Or what she looks like? -Or if she is truly happy? -Or if she hates me for abandoning her? -Or if I’ll ever see her again? -Or if she’ll forgive me? -Or if she is being loved and cared for as I hoped? -Or if her parents are aware and are helping her deal with her adoption issues? -Or if she’ll include me/us in her life as an adult?

So, for now I need to grieve, to mourn, and to be sad before I can move on.
Are you gonna celebrate?
No. I’m gonna cry.


  1. Of course you need to do this to the best of your ability and I hope when you do it will lead to some healing for you and some resolution.You'll never forget, we never do, but the rawness will go in time and the hurtful, grating remarks will vanish.
    Take very good care of yourself, let anyone who wants to care for you do so, it might help them too.This is a very dificult, painful time of huge loss...very best wishes.

  2. Cheerio, I am so, so sorry for your losses and the insensitivity of those around you. I wish I could give you a big, big hug.

  3. Cheerio,
    I've been thinking of your loss this week, thought of it on your birthday too. I can't imagine how hard it must be. I hope that knowing you have so many that care for & love you helps lift you up through the hardest times.

    Take care,

  4. Von, thanks for the encouragement and for the reminder to allow people to care for me. I'm such a stubbornly independent person that I normally resist help. My hubby said that has been one of the hardest things for him to adjust to in our relationship.

    Thanks Amanda!
    I know that people aren't insensitive on purpose ... it just isn't on their mind like it is mine. Well, except for my "little angle" whom I've posted about in the past. The last three conversations I've had with her, all three of them (inlcuding yesterday) have been about her sister's pregnancy. Yeah, I understand that this will be her first nephew/neice. But I have to wonder if she's doing this on purpose just to hurt me?

    Hugs back (((jimm)))thanks!

    thanks, Susie...you're so right - it's mysterious how much it really does help to know how many people (many of whom I've never met in person or even talked to on the phone) have shown care and love. And yeah, it does help - warms my heart!

  5. Your miscarriage is still pretty raw Cheerio-this is the first birthday you've had since you lost her-don't get down on yourself or question how to deal will it, that is just extra stress you don't need. You feel how you feel. In time the pain with lessen, and when you want to celebrate, you will. You'll know. Some people aren't your friends either when you thought they were, that is why they blow you off, or talk about subjects that hurt you. As you weed the pain out of your heart, it is good to weed people out of your life as well. I'm sorry for the pain you are in, and I hope you don't mind a birthday ((((hug)))) from me anyway.

  6. awwww, IA - tx for the hugs, yes i'll accept them from you!
    yes, I am trying to weed out the friends - or the 'so i thought you were a friend' people. it's ironic how many people will defend the actions/inaction of these weed friends. But that doesn't change how i feel about it.

  7. hugs ((Cheerio))

    I lost my daughter to adoption in April 1998. I lost my son to miscarriage March 20th, 2008. I understand your losses, and send you some hugs. Cry as much as you need to for as long. I remember when I lost my son, it was so heavy on my heart. Not only did I lose my son, but the adoption loss was also magnified for me when I miscarried.

    Cry. Do good things for yourself. Take breaks from these "celebrations" for now if you need to. Give yourself space for as long as you need. Eat ice cream, and sit in your pj's and watch movies all day long if you want. Just take the time for yourself, and treat yourself well.

  8. Thank you for your encouragement, hatherrainbow ... wow, 10 yrs apart. Mine were 15 years apart. yet, there is no such distance in our hearts.
    I am sorry you too know both of these losses, and how losing a child to adoption makes losing a wee unborn one so much harder.

    I did wander over to your blog. I'll try to visit it again. The layout is great! Thank you for stopping by and leaving a note.

    ((hugs)) bacck to you!!!