I hate how I always feel like I'm asking for too much from my sons adoptive parents.
I hate how I can't support R through his breakdown like he supported me through mine.
I hate how emotionally numb I am.
I hate how much I've pulled away from friends in the last year. So much so, that when I finally do want to hang out, no one is around because they've all moved on in their lives with new friends and the people who are still around do not live in a close proximity to my home.
I hate the lack of post placement support from my agency. I feel like I've been hung out to dry. Oh, we sold your baby! We don't need you anymore!
I hate how my mom doesn't understand, won't ever understand, and doesn't have any desire to understand. "why are you so upset?" why do you freaking think, mom? Cause it has nothing to do with the fact that I'm grieving my son, my baby boy.
I hate ignorant, self centered teenagers who get to raise their babies. You are yelling at your toddler that he is an idiot, in front of strangers. What the hell kind of parent are you? Oh right, a lousy one. I also hate the little girls who have babies only to have the girls mother or aunt or cousin raise them. They carry the kid around like lap dogs in a purse until the kid starts crying, and they promptly hand it over to their mother/aunt/cousin.
I hate how people assume I wouldn't make a good mother because I placed my son for adoption. I know for a fact I would have made a great mother.
I hate that I worry I won't ever have another child. I've already had one miscarriage, what if I only got lucky with Robbie? And I gave him away?
I hate dreaming that I'm holding my son close to my chest and telling him I love him, and having him hold me back, only to wake up in the middle of the night to realize it was only a dream. That my son isn't here, my arms only ache to hold him, and I am alone.