So now that my daughter is home from Russia, people tell me I'm lucky. I'm lucky that my little girl came home potty trained, that I didn't have to go through that horrible newborn stage, that she sleeps through the night, that I don't have to change diapers or clean spit up, etc., etc., etc. Wow, I am so lucky. Why do people feel the need to tell me this? Am I lucky that I missed the first three years of her life? Am I lucky that I have missed and will miss my birth daughter's entire life? That I never got to take care of either of them as a baby? To see their first teeth, hear their first words, watch their first steps, comfort their first cries? How does that make me lucky? Is my daughter lucky that she spent the first three years of her life in an orphanage without a mother? Or that she was ripped away from her birth mother when she was born? That no one cradled and adored her when she was a newborn baby? That no one was there to rejoice in her firsts or comfort her cries? That she had to wait and wait and wait for someone to come and rescue her? That she lost everything and everyone she knew, including her country and her language, in order to be my daughter? Or am I lucky that I couldn't get and stay pregnant again after my daughter died? Am I lucky that I didn't have to go through labor to bring my daughter home from Russia? Was it an easier pregnancy? (I have been pregnant 3 times. It was not easier.) Am I lucky that I didn't have medical bills or a physical recovery from childbirth? (I did have bills ... lots of them.) Or the "pain" of carrying a child for 9 months? Am I lucky? Really? Am I lucky that I had to watch my son grieve and coach him through grief while dealing with my own? Am I lucky that he still feels that loss even though he now has a sister through adoption? And that I do, too? If I compare my life to those around me who have never experienced infertility, miscarriage, the loss of a child at birth, secondary infertility and adoption, all I can say is that they have NO clue what they are talking about! I am not lucky. My daughter is not lucky. My son is not lucky. My husband is not lucky. We are thankful to have each other and to finally be together, but lucky is not a word I would associate with my experience. We will have to continue to deal with our own grief throughout our lives. Having another daughter does not replace the daughter we lost (nor would it be fair to expect her to). She will also experience her own grief as she grows up and realizes what she has lost. I even catch glimpses of that now when she looks at photos from her old life or sees someone caring for a small baby. Yesterday, a friend came over with her 8 month old. I could see it in my daughter's eyes when she was asked, "Do you remember when you were a baby?" If she could have answered, I would have expected something like this, "Yeah, I remember. No one loved me like that. You're daughter is lucky!"
Thanks for listening ...
