I am Queen PMS. Find me a crown and a cape.
I am anxious and tearful and sad.
I am angry that I allowed myself to be hurt by someone I do not know and that does not know me. Thick skin? No stinking way. I am as thin skinned as they come. I can somehow let one hateful comment shut me down completely.
I know my intentions are good. I know that the love I feel is pure.
There are adoption haters, there are ART haters. We can’t win.
Do I think that I don’t deserve more children because God made me barren? And what is barren? Unproductive; Unfruitful. I’m actually neither. I have fantastically young and well producing ovaries, thankyouverymuch. It just so happens that my other half is *ahem*, unfruitful. So do I think that? that God has decided I’m unworthy? That my husband is unworthy? No. I think that we are given challenges, just like everyone else. Different challenges perhaps, but we all have them. Difficult, heartbreaking and seemingly unfair challenges. But it’s what WE DO about those challenges.
Many days I want to, and have, pulled the blankets up over my head and cried. I have questioned my worthiness. I have wondered, why me?
But as I’ve said before, maybe this is why. Because there are children who need homes. NOT because I am a psychotic baby stealer, but because some children are born into unfit homes. Because some children are malnourished and neglected. Because some children are dealt a shitty hand. Is that my fault? No. Is it the child’s fault? Most definitely not. Do they deserve to sit in foster care year after year, in case the parents finally decide get Their act together? No. They deserve permanency. They deserve love and hot meals and clean diapers.
If I can and am willing to provide that, how in the world does that make me a psycho baby stealer?
When we first got baby girl I experienced guilt that I didn’t think I would. Guilt because someone is losing their baby. But that IS NOT my fault. They were given every chance, fair and square. I’m just here to pick up the pieces, so to speak.
Anyway…that’s all for now. My heart hurts tonight. I will move on, but I’m having a hard time. Blame it on the PMS?
UPDATE: I would KILL for a bag of chips..oh wait, don’t alert the authorities, It’s a figure of speech. I promise no one will die over Ruffles
