the end

I was a mother for 34 days. It was exhilarating, tiring, emotional, wonderful, perfect, a mess, relaxing, stressful, beautiful, smelly, full of giggles and smiles and love. Tons and tons of love. It was a perfect 34 days.

Our sweet birthmother couldn't take the pressure from her family any longer. She gave up. We aren't mad at her- quite the opposite, our hearts break for her. We are furious, and every other strong emotion, at her family. They can rot in hell.

Words cannot express the sorrow we feel. The tears that have been shed by us, by our family and friends, are countless. And they won't be ending any time soon. I feel as if I could cry continually for the next year and my eyes wouldn't run dry.

Thinking back over the pain and heartache we've had over the past year or so, I laugh to think that I knew what pain and heartache was. I had no idea. This is pain. This is heartache. Knowing what a conniving and hurtful family she is going back to. Knowing what could have been, what life she could have had. Knowing what heaven on earth it was to be parents, and then to have that ripped away.

We have run away for a few days, we are living in the same clothes for a while until we feel that we can return home. Home to pack up her toys, her clothes, the formula we left on the kitchen counter, the bottles that are on the drying rack. We miss her more each minute. We miss our alarm clock (which Isaac said didn't have a good snoozing ability), our reason for getting up in the middle of the night, our reason for tiptoeing around upstairs, our reason for singing and playing silly games. We miss everything about her.

Handing her over to LDS FS and walking away last night was the hardest thing I've ever had to do. I wanted to grab her and run. I wanted to lay on the floor and kick and scream until I got my way. Instead, Isaac and I clung to each other as we walked out of the church building, both crying, both unbelieving that this was really happening.

I wish we could wake up from this nightmare.