It makes me wish...

So I'm a part of a community of open adoption bloggers that the amazing Heather of Production, Not Reproduction has created. She even interviewed me in January and it was a huge honor. Her latest interview is with the author of Adoption in the City. The author, Racilous, is a birthmother.

After reading Racilous' interview, I clicked over to her site, and...well I can't stop reading. It makes me wish so many things. It makes me wish I were a better adoption blogger, a better adoptive mother, and a better participant in the adoption triad. Her words make me long for something different.

I occasionally blog about adoption and I am proud to be an adoptive mother, but I don't think I use my voice like I could. I like to think, correctly or not, that I have the ability to share information in a way that may help. That I have knowledge and experience to share, and I don't. I talk about myself, Husband, Pie, I share my writing, but I don't talk all that much about our fight with infertility or our incredibly long and difficult journey through adoption. I tend to hold those things close to the vest and I'm not sure I should.

We are transparent about the adoption. What I mean by that is that we already talk to Pie about it, we talk to her about her bios, we embrace all of her ethnicities and are happy to tell anyone the story. But is it enough? Should I be doing more? Should I be striving to share this journey with others? Racilous is using her experience to start a support group for birthmothers through the placement agency. It humbles me. I have only reveled in my own good fortune. I have done nothing to help others. But what would that even be?

With each word that Racilous writes a small hole opens in my heart. I have been devouring her posts. I feel like stumbling across her blog has given me access to the other side. Access I shouldn't have. It seems like I now have a secret look at what Pie's bios are going through. I keep reading and re-reading her posts and each time I'm left longing. Longing that I was different. Longing that Pie's bios were different. I truly think that the way things are right now are the best they can be right now. But again, is it enough? Could I be doing something better that would make things easier? Can I let go of my fears and acknowledge that this situation will always be more difficult for the bios. It will always be more awkward, more sad, more grief-filled for them.

While I do believe that the bios are absolutely sure that not parenting was the right choice for them, I also believe that it breaks their hearts. But what do I do about that? I don't think they are in a place where things can be different right now, but how will I know when it can be? What would that look like? What am I really, honestly willing for that to be?

I'm not sure what it is, but there's something about Racilous' writing that resonates so deeply with me. I am pouring over her words and feeling the confusion and uncertainty of open adoption wash over me. I am soaking in the 'what ifs' until my fingers are water-logged and wrinkled. I don't know what, if anything, will come of this wondering, this longing, but something...maybe...