I've been away from the blog again for a bit, but back to finish up this last post.
Understandably, we went through grief over this failed placement. I took the next day off of work, and while I said I wouldn't ever cry in the nursery, believe me... there were tears shed in that room.
I sat on the floor, by the change table and the crib, and cried. I played the mobile, smelled the baby clothes lent to us, fingered through the books.
I wondered why this was happening, that the thing I wanted the most in the world not only was not happening for me, but was tauntingly being held close to me only to be jerked away at the last second.
I went through every question that the birth mother asked. Was it something we said? Was there something that we could have done differently?
There are no easy answers. We kept telling the birth mother that she had to do the right thing for her and her child, whatever the outcome. I am proud that we were so steadfast in this, because it says a great deal about who we are, and the kind of loving parents we would be.
What next? We have told our social worker that we are still interested in adopting, and thus are back in the pool of prospective parents.
There are good days, and there are bad days. We are still grieving. All we can do is take it one day at a time, and hope that the little one that was not meant to be ours is doing well with her mother.
