My heart is vulnerable.
I am not vulnerable often because it's my greatest fear. My heart
beats daily, but the sounds are often muffled by the walls I put up to
hide the sound. When I think about my son, Noah, the walls of my heart
open and I am reminded that I was fortunate enough to find true love
when I was 18. He was born eight years ago today and adopted by two
wonderful human beings about two months later. This morning as the
clock struck 5:58 AM (the time he was born), I was thinking about my most recent visit with him and how he’d grab ahold of my hand, or lay his little head on my arm or across my lap. There were few moments where he wasn’t studying my face or looking for common mannerisms between me and him. I’d casually express my like or dislike for things and he’d reply, “I feel the same. I think it’s because we share DNA.”
The exchange of love over that course of three days was enduring,
joyous, and I’ll admit, at times exhausting.
That sounds bad, but I don’t mean it to.
My body’s response to all that love was, at times, completely void of energy. When you haven’t been around someone who loves you that much in a long time it takes a lot out of you to process and receive. Giving love was easy. I’ve been selflessly giving that boy love since the day he was born. Sitting and taking it all in face to face, body to body, had it’s overwhelming moments.
Most of the time I’d cry. When I’d hit an emotional peak and my fight or flight response would kick in, I’d cry. It was in complete awe of Noah and the life his adoptive parents have cultivated for him. He plays piano, is in advanced swimming, can ride a two wheeler like a champ, loves healthy food, has impeccable manners, is disciplined with his chores, sings, acts in plays, and the list goes on. He’s being raised as a devote Christian, and though I’ve battled with his adoptive mother over this, I can say that lifestyle has benefited him and adds to the amazing foundation his adoptive parents are building for him.
When you give your child away you don’t know what to expect. I thought I lost everything the day I gave him up for adoption, but I feel blessed that things have gone the way they have. There is so much unconditional love in his little body and so much gratitude for the sacrifices I have made for him. I am blessed in that Noah’s adoptive parents want his birth family included in his upbringing. I feel honored to be chosen to be his mother. Not one ounce of regret lives in me for my decision. I planted a seed and I get it watch it grow and am fortunate to have so many loving individuals water it.
I am not vulnerable often because it's my greatest fear. My heart
beats daily, but the sounds are often muffled by the walls I put up to
hide the sound. When I think about my son, Noah, the walls of my heart
open and I am reminded that I was fortunate enough to find true love
when I was 18. He was born eight years ago today and adopted by two
wonderful human beings about two months later. This morning as the
clock struck 5:58 AM (the time he was born), I was thinking about my most recent visit with him and how he’d grab ahold of my hand, or lay his little head on my arm or across my lap. There were few moments where he wasn’t studying my face or looking for common mannerisms between me and him. I’d casually express my like or dislike for things and he’d reply, “I feel the same. I think it’s because we share DNA.”
The exchange of love over that course of three days was enduring,
joyous, and I’ll admit, at times exhausting.
That sounds bad, but I don’t mean it to.
My body’s response to all that love was, at times, completely void of energy. When you haven’t been around someone who loves you that much in a long time it takes a lot out of you to process and receive. Giving love was easy. I’ve been selflessly giving that boy love since the day he was born. Sitting and taking it all in face to face, body to body, had it’s overwhelming moments.
Most of the time I’d cry. When I’d hit an emotional peak and my fight or flight response would kick in, I’d cry. It was in complete awe of Noah and the life his adoptive parents have cultivated for him. He plays piano, is in advanced swimming, can ride a two wheeler like a champ, loves healthy food, has impeccable manners, is disciplined with his chores, sings, acts in plays, and the list goes on. He’s being raised as a devote Christian, and though I’ve battled with his adoptive mother over this, I can say that lifestyle has benefited him and adds to the amazing foundation his adoptive parents are building for him.
When you give your child away you don’t know what to expect. I thought I lost everything the day I gave him up for adoption, but I feel blessed that things have gone the way they have. There is so much unconditional love in his little body and so much gratitude for the sacrifices I have made for him. I am blessed in that Noah’s adoptive parents want his birth family included in his upbringing. I feel honored to be chosen to be his mother. Not one ounce of regret lives in me for my decision. I planted a seed and I get it watch it grow and am fortunate to have so many loving individuals water it.
- Dana Allen
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