I have NEVER experienced anxiety in such an extreme form as I did during the 60 day waiting period when Ava’s birth mom could have with drawn her consent. I don’t think I can really describe it to anyone and I believe the only people who could understand that level of anxiety are mothers who’ve either had to give back adopted babies when consent was withdrawn or mothers who have lost babies at birth or shortly after birth.
I know all women experiencing the bonding differently. For some it is instant and for others the bond takes time to develop. For me, it was almost instant. In the second Ava was born, I felt something change instantly inside of me and I felt a love so intense that I didn’t think it was possible for it be any stronger even though in the months since her birth that love has, seemingly impossibly, grown stronger and stronger. But what really took my breath away was the sense of protection I felt over Ava, it was/is so strong that I know that without a shadow of a doubt that should my child be under threat, I am capable of committing the most heinous acts of violence without so much as a shred of compassion for the being on the receiving end of said violence. I knew, the day after Ava was born, when I woke up that morning and looked into the carrycot at the sweetest little baby in the whole word, I knew without a shadow of a doubt that I would stand in front of a speeding train to save my child, I knew I would fight with every breath left in me to save my child, her life is so much more important that my own.
So now, imagine that intense feeling of love and then living with the knowledge that someone could within the next 60 days, come and take her away from me and I would have to resist the natural instinct within me to not kill, mame or violently destroy whoever that person was.
Last night, I like to many other Mom’s and Moms-in-waiting, watched Carte Blanche with a sense of horror at the details of such a cruel adoption scam unfolded. My heart broke for those children who are being treated like puppies, stuffed in a cage in a pet shop window, enticing customers to come inside. And of the couples involved. Infertile, sad, broken, hurting desperate couples who just want their aching empty arms filled, being lied to, being deceived, being manipulated and used and I felt sick and I felt heartbroken.
But most importantly it reminded me of the risks involved with adoption. Granted, as long as one tries to follow ones head and not ones heart and always always always work through a reputable social worker, the risks are substantially reduced but still. These are innocent children and our fragile hearts on the line and Pandora’s chest has been once again opened and all the anxiety of our application to adopt again has been let out to wreak havoc on me.
I’ve worked hard at keeping my fears locked deep inside me, especially with our second application getting closer and closer. I’m really terrified of facing the 60 days again. Of all the uncertainty during that time. Of wanting to protect my heart from being broken, but of wanting to love that tiny baby with all abandon.
I’m really really scared.