I have a 16-year-old son whose loser father first offered to pay for an abortion, and then bailed altogether when I said no. I didn't want to be a single mom and raise my boy on welfare, which is the life we were in for, so I placed him for adoption. It, much more so than my childhood abuse, has destroyed my life. The suicidal depression? A lot of the PTSD? All stem from this.

My family wanted nothing to do with it, for years. I was an embarrassment, you know. Independent of her a-hole son, the sperm donor's mom and I have been friends for years. She never wanted anything to do with it, either.

In mid-March, about a month after I got out of a week-long hospital stay (there goes that active suicidal ideation again), my son's adoptive mom tracked me down. We had communicated once or twice a year for the last few years through the adoption agency, but she did some Internet sleuthing and found me on her own, and contacted me without telling the agency she'd done so. I was over the moon, of course.

So, she's sent me lots of pictures, and I sent him a huge box of presents for his birthday in May, etc etc. People are getting better about talking about it with me.

I emailed his adoptive mom today and asked if she would send me a school picture, when she got them. She wrote back, said sure, told me what he's been up to the last couple months, attached a new picture (every time she writes, she sends a picture, I love her for that!). I, being disgustingly proud, immediately forwarded it to everyone I know. :-)

That means I also forwarded it to the a-hole's mom. She wrote to thank me. I said I was just glad she was willing to talk about it now, after not having been interested for so long. She said she was never all that interested in having a grandchild, but is interested in his life and progress now, and hopes I'm "getting over it" now.

Why do people think you can "get over" the soul-crushing pain of not raising your own child? Because I have some limited contact now, a now-former friend told me on Mother's Day, which kicked my butt this year, for some reason, that "there are a lot of people who have reason to grieve on this day, but you aren't one of them." It's people like that witch who convinced me to save it for my birthmoms group. Nobody else understands.

I keep trying to educate them, but you know, my grief is NEVER going away. Ever. I'm thrilled to death that my son is happy and healthy and well adjusted and loved beyond measure, but I really wanted to be a mom, and a lot of people convinced me I'd be a crappy one, and I believed them, and I never got another chance. I'm 40 next year, never married, never had another child, and the grief from THAT is overwhelming, much less that of missing my son.

I adore my therapist because he gets down in there with me and tries with all his might to feel and understand and grasp my pain, but he can't, really, in the end -- he's a man, for one thing. Men can never relate to children in quite the same way, since they don't have them as roommates for 9 months. But I can't find ANYBODY willing to get down in there with me and try, or even just to hold me and let me cry and feel sad. I'm supposed to be "over it." Somebody please tell me how to do that?

candy