This week is an exciting one for me, because on Thursday I begin classes to become a foster parent. I will be privileged enough to welcome some beautiful child into my home for a moment in time and share my love. For some reason though, I am plagued by this feeling...I can't explain what it is, almost a longing, an ache, something bittersweet. Almost like I will be able to hold something for a moment, only to have it torn away.
I had a dream last night that a beautiful baby boy needed a home and I had one to offer. He was so beautiful, he even looked like me. He had my eyes and my smile and he was a lovely shade of golden brown with the blackest hair and those little perfect fingers and toes that babies have. I put him on my breast to see if I could make milk for him (keep in mind, its a dream) and I could, I did. He became our family. I taught him to walk and talk and the children were overjoyed with their new brother. Then...his real mother wanted him back. In my mind, I was trying to think of any way to keep him because he was my son. And I was broken, because I had to let him go. I woke up, still broken.
Very few people know that I carried a 3rd baby in my body. I was 5 months pregnant when someone else's cruelty stole him from me and further ensured that I would never carry another child. Every time I think about it, it feels like yesterday and it hurts the same even though it has actually been over 5 years. So, I don't think about it, and I tell myself that I should be over it and it wasn't my fault and all that other stuff that we do to make our feelings seem irrational so that we can get over them. But last night, I dreamt of my baby. And he was perfect. When I woke up, I just knew that he was mine.
The other problem with waking up from that dream, is that I really WOKE up. I realized a lot of things about myself that have to change. I've spent 5 years of my life blaming myself for something that I felt I could've prevented had I made better decisions. Yet, the cruelty and sickness that dwells in other people is beyond our control. Yes, we can avoid certain situations but at times, the 'right thing' to do is coated in this cloud of haze that no one can see through. It wasn't my fault. I've been telling myself that all day. It. Wasn't. My. Fault. I also realized that I've spent 5 years feeling like I don't deserve a 'good' man or a 'good' husband because I can't give him babies, I can't do the one thing that makes me feel like a woman. How fucked up I have been all these years... I deserve what I put out there. I deserve the very best of everything because that is what I offer to those I love and oftentimes to those I don't even like. It wasn't my fault. I have two perfect children who receive the very best of me at all times and make my heart smile. It wasn't my fault. I have a lovely home filled with love and laughter. It wasn't my fault. I love harder than anyone I know. It wasn't my fault. People throw their babies away everyday and I can't have one...still, it wasn't my fault.
When I decided I wanted to foster, I said to myself 'no babies'. Everyone wants the little babies, and the older children need homes...plus, what if I can't let go? But, it doesn't matter how old a child is...when you love them, they are yours. Last night frightened me, because I started to think I may be making a bad decision again and setting myself up for terrible heartbreak. But I'm not. I can do anything. I have too much love to offer to keep it to myself. And poor Bailey & Elijah feel smothered at times. Lol. Not really, they revel in my love and share theirs so freely as well. Those are truly MY children. Their personalities make me feel like I have done something wonderful with my life. And I have. I still have an overflowing cup of love to offer to others and I need to share that. So even though I don't think I will ever 'get over' my baby, we have room in our family for more. And more we shall have.
Last night I dreamt of my baby, and he was beautiful. I miss him even though I never knew him and my heart aches for him and my broken womb. And...it wasn't my fault. It's time to move on, though I will never forget him, never let go of him, never get over him and never stop loving him. It's time to take that love, blanket my children with it and open our home to someone who needs us. Not me, US.
Last night I dreamt of my baby, and he was perfect. He wants me to move on.