So I had to step back from adoption for the last couple of months. I think we all need to do that from time to time. But, just like every year, the month of May is here. My son was born 15 years ago, May 30th.
As soon as May 1st rolls around on the calendar, my emotions go into overdrive. Mind you, I think about my son every single day. Sometimes it is a passing thought, sometimes there is a more steady stream of emotions. May brings flowers, warmer days, and an emotional sledgehammer to my heart.
I read a very dismissive statement the other day from an adoptive mother. She stated that it must be a hard day once a year on her adopted child’s birthday for his birth mother. As if the only time us first mothers think about their children is on that one day a year. Fuck off is not a strong enough sentiment for that adoptive mother.
Every time I have to write a check, or make an appointment, or simply check what the date is, when I see the word, May, I feel like someone slapped me hard in the face. It is just another reminder of the mistake I made, the regrets I have, and the longing for my child. Couple that with Mother’s Day being this month and it’s a wonder I haven’t taken a long walk off a short pier.
I wonder if there will ever come a time when the month of May does not feel like a punch in the gut. It has been 15 years, so I am thinking I already have the answer to that question.