The day we lost our daughter, and all the days thereafter

IMG_2730Two days ago (could it really only be two days ago?) we lost our daughter.

There was one last smile and unknowing giggle from her perfect lips, one last peaceful drifting to sleep in the safety she knows as my arms, and one last reach to her daddy’s cheeks to wipe away his tears. And then she was gone.

In a world where these things aren’t suppose to happen, where birth fathers don’t appear, seemingly from the ethers, linger for three months while leaving their child to be cared for and to bond with others, only to appear a week after signing a consent to adoption to take her from the only home she has ever known, how can anything make sense again? Because these things don’t happen.

Good people who hold on to every drop of hope for four years, grasping at faith like straws in a haystack, who open their hearts and trust with the naivety of belief in the goodness of others, can’t possibly wake up six months later to an empty home, to empty hearts. Because these things don’t happen.

Oh but they do. Unfortunately they do. And when they do the world never turns on the same axis again, and life never makes the same sense again. Yet, if asked to do it all over again, knowing that in so doing our hearts would be ripped to shreds by lies, manipulation, and deception, I would say yes without a moments hesitation.

Loving our daughter for four months was the greatest honor and privilege of my life. And though the hole in my heart that was made the day we lost our daughter will forever remain for all of the days thereafter, I would not give back one second of loving her for its wholeness.

The day after she was taken from our home, taken from our arms, the spring blooming plant in her room burst open in bright red flowers. In the middle of winter life bloomed. So too I know that Mea will bloom, in the middle of the storm, she will bloom. Because although she could be taken from her home, from our arms, the seeds we planted and watered while we loved her never can be killed, even in the middle of the coldest winter.

Burn brightly little ray of sunshine and know we love you always and ever.

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21 comments

  1. Oh my goodness. My heart is breaking for you. I will say so many prayers for strength and mercy for you in the coming days, weeks, months and years. I cannot imagine such a loss. This is so unbelievably unfair that I can’t believe it. 😦

  2. I am so sorry. I am crying for you and her. But you are right – those four months are something you both will always have. Sending you lots of love and support in this tough time. Big hugs.

  3. I am so sorry to read this news.. I am crying as I can’t believe how unfair life can be. Sending you a big cyber hug xx

  4. Mere words can not express the heartfelt sadness we feel for you all. Know we are praying for love and comfort to surround and keep you all through this.

  5. I just burst into tears. I am so sorry. As a mama who has had to say goodbye to a daughter in a similar (yet different) way, it is a unique and eternal pain that most cannot appreciate or comprehend. I am so very sorry this has happened. This is a beautiful post.

  6. spicerthompsons · · Reply

    I started reading your blog years ago when my husband and I were struggling to grow our family. You were very inspirational to me when I needed it most. I read your post today and cried. Cried for you, your family, your daughter. I am an adoptive mother and I told myself that I would love our son unconditionally as long as we could. You gave your daughter an amazing gift by doing that. No one can take away the fact that you were her mother during those crucial 4 months. I am so very sorry, I am certain that words cannot learn the pain. Know that you will be in my thoughts and prayers. Thank you for truly being an inspiration.

  7. spicerthompsons · · Reply

    I found your blog as my husband and I were struggling to grow our family. You were an inspiration to me when I needed it most. When I read your post today I cried. I cried for you, your family and your daughter. I am an adoptive mother and told myself I would love our son unconditionally, I would not guard my heart because I knew he needed us. I admire you for doing the same for your daughter…what an amazing gift you gave her. 4 incredible months of unconditional love. No one can ever take away that you were her mother, loving her with all your heart.
    I am so very sorry. I am certain that words cannot numb the pain you are feeling. Know that I, a total stranger, will be thinking if and praying for all of you. Take good care of one another.
    Heather

  8. My heart goes out to you and your family. What a terrible way of losing your daughter, I’m so so sorry for your loss and that you had to let her go. You bravely opened your home to her, and a piece of your heart will always be with her. Sending healing and hugs.

  9. Came here from One step at a time!
    So sorry to hear! Thinking of you!

  10. What a sad time you are in. We lost a baby boy due to stillbirth and I can imagine that our grief and your grief are quite similar. We all planned for many years together with a very much loved and wanted child and then suddenly, without warning, that hope and plan was ripped out from underneath us.
    So sorry for your loss. Take the time you need to grieve.

  11. There are no words, yet you still find strength and light in the darkness. I’m very sorry for your loss.

  12. I am so so sorry. I cannot even imagine, it makes me ill to read this thinking of what you must be feeling and going though. So sorry

  13. I am so sorry for your loss. As an adoptive parent, I understand all of the legal “craziness” that surrounds consent – but this just doesn’t seem to be in anyone’s best interest.

    We have adopted three wonderful kids, unfortunately, we lost our daughter at 8 weeks due to multiple medical issues, including a heart condition. Even though she was only with us for 8 weeks, she was, is and will always be our daughter. I understand when you say that you wouldn’t trade the time with your daughter. I hope those memories bring you comfort while you grieve.

  14. I am so moved with compassion for you and your family. I remember when the magistrate requested us to place a newspaper ad for the 2nd time because the birth dad may have missed the first one. Don’t know what I would have done if he responded… Keep strong

  15. Thank you all for your kind words, and caring support. Though I know that the only way out is through, I’m not sure that we would have the strength to keep pushing through without so many people in our lives holding us up. Thank you for your support during this excruciatingly painful time.

  16. St. Elsewhere · · Reply

    Here from LFCA….

    I am so sorry. It’s heartbreaking and extremely painful to be undergoing what you have just survived. Wishing you much strength.

  17. I’m so so sorry for this absolutely devastating loss. You have loved this beautiful girl, your daughter with all of your hearts and that remains forever. I am stunned that this kind if thing can happen in this world but I know that it can and it’s not fair. It’s excruciating and imagining myself in your place and yet I know it’s a hundred fold my imaginings. Please take strength from this community. Huge hugs.

  18. I am so incredibly sorry. This is so painful. I wish this wasn’t happening.

  19. Came over from Lost and Found to say how very sorry I am that you lost your daughter – no other words seem adequate – just sorry.

  20. My heart hurts for you. I can not imagine the loss of something so desperately wanted and even if I could words are so inadequate and seem so empty. I’m so very sorry that you had to experience this heart break.

  21. I am so sorry. In our adoptive journey the mother changed her mind 24 hours before we left to pick up the child. I have spoken to other couples who went through what you did. My heart is broken for you, your husband, your daughter and your families. No words are adequate.

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