Quote:
|
Originally Posted by Mockingbird
It has just sort of hit me that no matter how much time I spend talking with my son, I can never reclaim that time that I gave up. I missed all of his "firsts". I missed the birthdays, family reunions, holidays with Santa and the Easter Bunny and fireworks. I am jealous of his aparents. I am really GRIEVING now. I'm afraid that the bits of time we have together won't be enough to hold us together--we don't have those memories to share--and he may be lost to me again. This may sound stupid, but I feel like "I want my baby and I want him NOW!" I feel so depressed.
|
What you're feeling right now is so totally normal in the early stages of reunion. I think it hits all of us sooner or later. I remember the first Christmas I spent with my then 18-year-old son back in 1990. I had taken him to an annual Christmas event, where we met up with friends and family on the seashore. Everybody was having the time of their lives...the weather was perfect, and bonfires were roaring. As I was standing there with my son, I spotted a little boy, maybe 3 years old or so, who was playing down by the water's edge. And suddenly I was consumed with grief...it just washed over me like a huge wave. It was then that I realized I was grieving for my little boy, even though I was standing right there with my armed draped around his shoulders.
Just let yourself feel the grief and sadness...acknowledge it...and let it go. Don't try to bury it inside yourself. There were numerous times during those first couple years of reunion that I felt grief about missing out on his childhood years. The pain lessens a bit each time. Heck, I'm not sure if it evers goes away though. I've been in reunion now for eighteen years, and there are still some days I find myself wishing that I could have had those childhood moments and experiences with my little boy. Sometimes it's hard to look thru my photo album of his childhood pictures. I want to reach right thru those photos, and take him into my lap...to rock him...to sing to him.
One thing that helps me deal with the occasional grief and feelings of loss is by practicing a certain visualization/imagery technique I came up with many years ago. I sit alone in a quiet room, close my eyes, and picture myself sitting in a rocking chair. On my lap, I'm holding my infant (sometimes toddler) son, who reaches up to stroke my face. I inhale his baby smells, and listen to his baby talk. Sometimes I sing a lullabye to him. I don't know why this particular meditation works so well for me, but it does. The sadness always lifts, and I'm left with this feeling of wholeness.
