Letters to Lillian

Letters to Lillian
First it was two,
then we had you.
Now we have everything.

Letters to Lilly,
our daughter through adoption.

Monday, September 10, 2012

Keep your face to the sunshine and you cannot see the shadow. It's what sunflowers do.

Sunflower fields forever


Little One, when I was little I had trouble sleeping. I attribute it to having multiple surgeries at a very young age- I would go in to the hospital, and wake up unable to move. I was terrified to go to sleep for fear that I'd wake up in the hospital. So when my Mom worked nights as a nurse, my Dad struggled to get me to drift off to sleep. He'd kneel down next to my bed, stroke my hair and try to get me to relax. One of our nightly rituals was him talking me to sleep, and often times he used (what I didn't know at the time what it was, but with adult eyes I now know) meditation.


He would push my hair out of my face, and whisper to me, "Imagine you're in a sunflower field. All the bright sunny flowers are everywhere - as far as the eye can see. The breeze gently sweeps through the field and the sunflowers wiggle, and the wind blows your hair. The sky is big and blue, the clouds are fluffy enough to sleep on."  It would go on for hours and hours. Eventually, my mind would be fully immersed in that sunflower field, and I would feel relaxed enough to give in to sleep.


I cherish that memory, Lo.



This week was a rough one, sweet baby.


 


We thought we were so much closer. We had a lead. We met her in person. It all seemed so perfect..until her name glared on one of the scam boards.


An emotional scammer- not looking for money, just craving attention- had us sucked in and made us more hopeful than we'd been in a long time. We were all excited at the possibility of having you here by October, the due date she gave us. She sent us sonogram pictures. She told us we were chosen. And then it all came crashing down.


And I feel like ever since that fateful email that it was all a sham- that all our dreams were false- I feel a bit numb. I feel like I can't even cry. I feel like it's going to take a lot for me to trust that this will work, to trust another contact or lead. We've had our hearts broken twice now, once with a fall through and once with a scam. The scam hurt far, far worse. The fall through was meant to be, it was fate. The scam was all smoke and mirrors (we don't even believe she was actually pregnant) and for no purpose other than someone elses selfishness. How could anyone do that? How could someone be so mean and hurtful? And she was not only scamming us, but at least six other hopefuly adoptive couples. Why would someone do that?


Because they are hurting, too. Badly.


It's sad, and I feel terribly bad for this person. She needs help that we cannot provide for her. She needs to find peace.


And it hurt. A lot. Depths of your soul, how am I going to make it through this alive kind of pain. But for you sweet baby, for you I refuse to let it overcome us. I'm a fighter when it comes to you. I won't give up. Not now, not ever.



Your Dad and I went to a local sunflower field on Saturday. After this week of the highest of ups and the lowest of downs, we needed to step off the rollercoaster and plant our feet somewhere familiar. To us, the most familiar place is nature. 

Driving up the road, out of nowhere we saw it, a gold mine- a sea of yellow beauty. The kind of beauty that only comes from nature, or God, or whatever diety you believe in. It's not beauty from a photoshopped magazine. It's beauty one rarely sees with their naked eye.

It gave me hope, that beauty still exists in this world. That faith, hope, and love are alive and well and on their way back into our lives.

And as I trunched through the waist high field of sunflowers, nothing but yellow petals for what felt like miles, I finally felt free.



 

We're going to focus on the positive. It would be easy to throw our hands up and say, "Well, this is too hard. We're not good enough for this. It's just not meant to be. We've just been hurt too much already." But kid, I'm not, nor have I ever been, a fan of easy. Life is hard. Adoption is hard. But the outcome...my God, baby, the outcome is going to be worth every single heartache we've ever had. I will not give up on you. Not now, not ever.

I will not give up on everyone else either. Your first Mom is out there. I cannot be doubtful when she comes into our lives. I cannot second guess giving her my love, just because one other sick person misused it. I refuse to let that person win. I will let your first Mom win though. I will love her with everything I am,  for your benefit and your sake. And I will not lose my faith in humanity or the good in people.

Sometimes, sweet baby, people hurt. They don't know why all the time, but they will try to take it out on you. First of all, you're better than that. Don't let it get to you. Secondly, know that it's not personal. It's not about you or what you stand for- it's about their pain and suffering. People that hurt other people are in a bad place, and they need understanding and love more than anyone else in this world. That doesn't mean that responsibility rests on your shoulders- a lot of times it is outside the realm of what you can give. So my only advice when encountering someone that is in so much pain that they use it against you for no reason is this: respect yourself enough to give them space, and respect them enough to know it's not about you.

So that is what we're doing, Lo. We're letting go of the hard feelings, and looking to the sunshine, just like the sunflowers taught us to.



 

I'm no longer afraid of sleep. My parents helped me get over the fear. And though this experience has been a life lesson, we won't let it get us down. We won't be afraid of this proccess- because in the end it means having you here in our lives forever. And that is all that matters.

 



The good thing about faith, Little One, is that the sun always rises tomorrow. It hasn't let us down yet.

 

With my petals outstretched to the sun, ignoring the shadows but looking for you,

 

Love always,

Mom

 

1 comment:

  1. Love you two. I'm so optomistic that I did what I've always done, start a baby project, and co ntinue to buy the neccessities, and the cutest of pleasurable clothing! I know that you're out there somewhere, and I know that it is soon. My prayers revolve around you, our grandsons, and our 4 kids (daughters and their husbands), and your grandpa. We are strong for your mom and dad. While this was the roughest week ever for them, I see a stronger, focused, smarted couple e merge.

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