My brain hurts from all the intense thinking about adoption.
My heart hurts from all the hurts that others, that my son, and that even I have, are, and will endure because of adoption.
My sense of community hurts because we so often, over and over fail each other, fail to meet others where they are in their journeys, fail to have compassion, fail to try to say, “I’m having a very hard time understanding what you’re saying and it’s causing me anger and hurt. Can you explain that for me some more,” and instead lash out — myself included, ohhhhhh my goodness, myself included.
My sense of commitment hurts because I put the words out here, right on my blog: Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a hard battle. ~ Plato — and I don’t always abide by that.
My sense of justice hurts because sometimes it seems like there is none for some people in adoption — for the adoptees who cannot have the records that they are entitled to; for those, adopted and bio, who grew up in abusive homes; for the adoptees whose first families refuse contact; for the first parents whose children refuse contact; for the first parents who have had open adoptions closed tight; for the adoptive parents who want open adoption but cannot get it for their children just yet; for the first mothers who experienced undue coercion to place their child(ren); for those who never got to meet their first parents due to untimely deaths; for so many, many others.
My soul hurts for those who feel that they’ve lost a part of themselves for not living with their first families or for being denied the truth of who they were and are by their adoptive families or by others.
My eyes hurt from crying tears of understanding, tears of hurt, tears of pain, and tears of empathy for all of those hurt in any way by adoption or by the misunderstandings that arise in the confusing world of the adoption triad.
My hope hurts when it seems that all I can find in Bloggerville is gloom, despair, and angry words flying around towards others in the triad. My. hope. hurts.
__________________________________________________________
It scares me a bit when my hope hurts.
Hope is one thing I usually have plenty of.
*sigh*
We are all hurting in so many ways.
We all have hurting parts.
All of us.
All. Of. Us.
Try to Hope. Heal.
Become US.
Bring back HOPE.
Not for me.
But for you.
And mostly
for the children.
HOPE.
Not hurt.
*HOPE *
