After seemingly hundreds of different documents, a hefty bank transfer, and no small amount of nerves, my partner and I finally posed for a picture to celebrate a huge privilege and big step: home ownership. It is a dream home, a perfect little duplex in paradise for us to call our own. We are both so excited. I smiled for the photo, shook our realtor's hand, and walked back to my car. Once I had snapped my seat belt in I suddenly felt a heavy sadness come crashing around me, welling up my eyes and making my stomach flop.
Here it was: grief. Grief?! What for? On this huge exciting day? It seemed to come out of nowhere. I didn't regret the house or the cost or anything, did I? I tried to put my finger on it and one painful solitary thought exploded in my head. "I want to tell my mom." Except...I couldn't. My bio mom is fighting for her first low-income housing opportunity in 20 years an ocean away. Her phone may not be working anyways. I didn't want to burden her with my own success. And my adopted mom? She simply couldn't recognize the significance or know how to celebrate this moment. She hadn't texted me for days even though I told her when we were closing. I was alone again.
Oh.
There it is.
You see, adoptee grief isn't reserved for birthdays or relinquishment anniversaries. It can hit us like a train at any major life event - marriage, career advancement, home ownership, and of course, children of your own. It is a lifelong companion waiting its turn the moment you let your guard down. And it sucks.
Comments