On My Heart: One Year Later

Today marks the first birthday of Baby M.

For those who are new to our blog, Baby M was the nickname we gave to the baby we intended to adopt last year. We were matched with his mother through our adoption agency in June 2011 and upon his birth on October 3rd, she changed her mind and the adoption was disrupted/failed. You can read more about what happened here and my reactions since here and here. 

It is hard to believe it has been a year since he was born. A year since my heart broke when I received that awful call early on a Monday morning. A year since my faith fell apart. A year since we lost our son to be.

I think about him, that tiny boy who would have been ours, all the time. I look at my daughter while she is sleeping, while she is nursing, while she is cooing at me and think that he has already been through a year of milestones. But who was there to see it?

I have no idea where he is, if he is being cared for and loved the way he deserves, as any child deserves. Although he was taken from his mother by Child Protective Services and placed into temporary foster care, I have to believe that by now, by his first birthday, he would be in a forever home with a family to call his own. I have to believe he is ok. I am still angry at how this story unfolded for him. He was the victim in all of this. 

For myself and for my faith, I am still at a crossroads. I do not understand why this all happened and although my precious miracle daughter is here with us, I don't believe that God would have taken one child away from us in order for us to receive another. I don't believe he works like that. I doubt I'll ever understand why this happened in my lifetime.

My heart has slowly started to mend over the last year. My pregnancy and the birth of Brighton have been the catalysts for substantial healing, but I still feel the depth of sorrow at times. In those quiet moments as I pace the floors with my baby wrapped in my arms, I feel the residue of sadness wash over me from losing a child, even if he was never mine. Part of me wishes I could have held him just once, seen his face, smelled his newborn smell. I wish I could have told him how much we loved him, how so many had prayed for his life. I wish I could have told him goodbye properly. Instead, I said it aloud through my tears, thousands of miles away from him.

Baby M will forever be our son, even if its in the theoretical sense. We loved him as any parent loves their unborn child and we lost him in a way that feels more like a kidnapping than a miscarriage. Right or wrong, this is how we feel about him and his story. Right or wrong, we will always consider him as part of our family; we will always love him; we will always wonder where he is and pray that he is happy and healthy. 

As for my heart and faith, I know I will continue to heal, but I have changed since that day one year ago. I lost a little of my faith in people, a little faith in God and His goodness. I don't know if I will ever be the same. How do you go back to the person you once were after something like this? I don't think it's possible. 

But this shouldn't be about me and my heart - it's about him, the first child I ever loved as my own. I wanted to make sure we honored him today, on his special day, even if he will never read this.

Baby M, I love you. I pray that you are in the hands of parents who love you as much as we did, and still do, and that your life would be filled with joy, hope and love. I desperately wish we could have been a part of your life, but we hope and believe the best for you and your years to come. 

Happy 1st Birthday darling boy.