Love and Motherhood

Today I sit here and think of my foster daughter. She turned ten on Saturday. She was in my life for a year and I haven't seen her for almost six. That's the funny thing about love and motherhood, it doesn't have to be biological and it can happen in a short time. I will always think of her as my daughter.  She was a part of my everyday and my number one job was to take care of her. The foster agency asked me if I wanted to adopt her because her parents couldn't handle the responsibility for their own reasons. I hadn't thought about adoption, I wanted to, but it wouldn't come to be. The grandmother that didn't have time for her when she went into the system now wanted to adopt her.  She would be transitioning out of my home. About a month later she was gone. Her grandmother was not happy that her granddaughter had been in the system and called me mom.  As if it was my fault, she wanted nothing to do with me and I have not heard from them in more than five years. How is my foster daughter? Is she doing well? How could I love her and not the son I gave birth to? 

As I continued therapy, I continued to learn what things might have contributed to my fears and depression. I hadn't thought about it, but I had lost my foster daughter and miscarried my first pregnancy. Having a child, up to this point, had ended in tears and heartache. I was terrified that it would happen again. These things paired with the c-section and blood pressure complications could have caused these struggles.  There is no way to know for sure and I don't dwell on the "why". I might have ended up with Postpartum Depression even if everything was easy and I didn't have this history.  

Each time I had therapy I felt stronger. I was learning and I was growing.  Soon I was down to going once a week and then every other week. We continued to explore techniques that I could use at home.  My therapist suggested that I write letters to Philip about the things I was looking forward to.  I wrote about his first vacation, Halloween, Christmas, and visiting the pool.  I started to look forward to things instead of dreading them.  I don't know when it happened, but one day as I held Philip in my arms, I felt love.  It hit me like a flood. I looked at him and thought he was the best thing I had ever done.  He wasn't just the cute baby that I was caring for.  He was my baby! It took me longer than I thought it would, but it came! I love my son! Life is not hopeless! I am strong!

I am not saying life is perfect, because frankly whose is? I enjoy being at home with Philip and watching him grow and learn. We have traveled to many places this year and I have enjoyed every minute. Even with all my struggles, this has been one of the funnest years of my life.  We have been to Oklahoma City, Nebraska (twice), Colorado (twice), Chicago, and England! 


At this point, I feel better, but my day is still shaped by Postpartum Depression and Anxiety. It comes back to the pills. I am hard on myself and want to be done with them.  I also feel like others are judging me and my handful of pills in the morning and again at night. I stopped taking my anxiety medication for two weeks and started having problems at night again.  I hadn't tied myself to my bed for a while, but I couldn't quiet it. I needed the medication, I still couldn't do it alone.  I went back on the medication for a few more weeks and decided to try stepping down again.  I am now off my anxiety medication and my sleeping pill.  I'm sure it will be a while before I am off medication completely, but I am working on it!

Until next time...