Moving on

What could I do other than move on with my life? She had not been a part of my life for a few years, and the chance phone conversation we had obviously gave me quite a bit to think about.

I played the conversation over and over in my head. The more I thought about it, the less I understood why she said all of the things that she said about me to her friend. It was like she was talking about a completely different relationship...not ours. The things she said were not even true. We talked on the phone often, but at random times throughout the day...not way late so I was keeping her up. She usually came to visit me instead of the other way around because of her family at home. She always told me it was easier that way. I am not sure what she meant about not telling my family about her. It was difficult, but I told them about her before I ever started my contact with her.

I was beyond confused, but had no choice other than to move on. I had wanted to know what happened, why she stopped all contact with me...I got my answer. Not at all what I wanted to hear, but it was an answer.

I am pretty good at hiding my feelings. I had years of practice, so it really didn't take much effort to muster up a smile and act like everything was OK. Any spare time that I had, I filled it with other tasks to keep my mind busy. The key was to stay as busy as possible so I didn't have time to think. If I didn't have time to think, I didn't have time to feel. That was the plan, at least. However, this was different. It was much more difficult than I thought.

The fact that I was rejected by my birth mom for the second time hurt me to the core. No matter how hard I tried to bottle it up and stuff it as deep as I could, the reality was still there. Every time I looked at one of my own kids, I wondered "how could a mother reject her own child?". I understood the adoption part of it...she was young, she thought she was doing the right thing by me. I got that. I had accepted that. But to be given a second chance, just to reject me again was like a slap in the face. I started questioning myself and wondering what was wrong with me. Why didn't she want me? What made me so unlovable?

A couple months had passed and still no word. You would think, by now, I would not be holding on to the hope that she would call or write. She had proven to me that she was not interested. She had completely bashed me and our relationship to a new friend of hers, but there I was...still waiting, wondering if today was going to be the day.

After talking to my bf's one day, I finally got the push that I needed. I was forced into reality and realized that I had 3 babies of my own that needed me. I had been so depressed and so hurt by everything that had happened, that I was not the mother that my own children deserved. It was time for a change. As much as it hurt, as hard as it was, I HAD to let her go. So, I sat down and wrote her a letter.

I can't remember everything that I wrote about. I told her that it would be the last letter or form of contact that she received from me. I took the comments that she had made in her letter into consideration as I wrote it, mentioning several false accusations she had mentioned. It wasn't an angry letter, but it was very honest and straight forward. I mentioned feeling hurt about the things that I heard her say. I told her that if she would have voiced her thoughts and feelings to me, we maybe wouldn't have got to the point we were at. I told her that I was hurt, but needed closure to the situation so I was basically saying good-bye. I told her from that point forward, the ball was in her court. I had tried and tried to force a relationship that she obviously resented and I was done. I wanted her in my life, but I didn't have anything left. I fought for four years, and received nothing...not one letter, one phone call, absolutely nothing.

It was around Christmas when I wrote the letter and for some reason I felt compelled to include our photo Christmas card. She had not seen my 3 year old and 9 month old before. I had withheld sending pictures with any letters I wrote her while we weren't talking. It was really just my way of controlling the situation as much as I could. Crazy, but true. In order to truly move on, I felt like I needed to let go of my anger towards her and the situation as much as possible. I guess the pictures were a peace offering of sorts.

I read the letter twenty times, at least, before I finally sealed the envelope and dropped it in the mail. As I dropped it in the mailbox, I did feel a small glimmer of hope as I walked away. I hoped that maybe she would find it in her to want to call me. Maybe something I said in the letter would move her just enough to want to reconcile our relationship.

Hope was the only thing that kept me going. Others may think of it as a weakness...pathetic, ridiculous, naive..whatever you want to call it. However, for me, hope was the one thing that no one could take from me. When I found myself in the darkest moments of my life, all I could do was hope for a sunnier tomorrow. So that is what I did.