I just wanna feel normal again

I have been crying or on the verge of crying for the last few days. Since Isaiah's birthday I have been falling apart more and more.

These two weeks are the worst.

Every year from April 29th until Mother's Day, I am a complete wreck. It takes so much work to function properly, but somehow (definitely by the grace of God), I manage.

This is the time of year that I relive EVERYTHING. I don't try to, the memories just keep flooding back and in an instant I am 23, post-partum, feeling abandoned and looking for a clue as to what comes next.

I still looked pregnant a week later and I remember waiting for a bus when a man asking when I was due (rude!) and I broke down crying and told him about Isaiah, the adoption and the stupid cow of a nurse that made me carry him out. When the bus came, he didn't get on. I don't blame him.

I was in Target with friends when I started lactating and I had a melt down as they frantically searched for boob pads.

I didn't think I could take anymore of this.

I remember wanting to end it, but I couldn't bear what that would do to Isaiah once he was old enough to understand. 

The day I had to sign over my rights,  Isaiah was a week old. The clerk explained to me in everyway she knew how that this was irrevocable. That no matter what the Strides has promised,  I would have no rights to Isaiah and Illinois does not recognize open adoption agreements.

I will admit that it felt like hours until I signed the papers,  but once my pen left the paper, I remember feeling like I would survive this.  I didn't know how or when, I just knew that I would.

When the day comes when I can say that I have, I will let you know.

Looking back,  I know I have come incredibly far. Little by little I have been able to move on with my life.

Moving to Terre Haute was a huge step because I have never been more than 45 minutes away from Isaiah and his family. I lost touch for a while,  and I felt both miserable and free not being someone's birthmom even for a little bit.

Though I have no regrets, it sometimes cripples me that I can't shake this title and I am pretty sure my self esteem won't recover from the hit it took while earning it.

I am always going to be Isaiah's birthmom. Though I am in no way ashamed of him, I am still ashamed of me. In my mind I am always going to have to live down the decisions I made almost eleven years ago. 

Don't get me wrong, there are times when I am fine. When I can talk to him on the phone or visit without falling apart. There are times when I can share my story with more peace than I know what to do with.

This is not one of those times.

I know I am not in a good place.

This place is as dark as it is cramped. Only room for me and Jesus, he'll lead me out when I'm ready.

Just pray for me.