A piece of me is missing. Six and a half years ago, when I made the decision to place my baby for adoption, I also gave away a piece of my heart.

At times, the hole or missing piece feels enormous. While at other times it might not feel quite as big, but it is always there. While I was making an adoption plan, I knew it was going to be difficult and I knew life would never be the same, but I didn’t realize that there would be days that my soul would literally ache for that child. I honestly somewhat bought into what others were telling me; that I would be able to move on. But how do you move on when you have given away a piece of your heart? Move forward, yes. Live my life, yes, I can do that too. But pretend I never gave birth to a second little boy? Nope, I can’t do that one.

There are moments where it doesn’t hurt as much, but then something happens, a thought arises; and I am right back to that low point again. No matter how great my life is, how many of my goals I achieve, or even how involved I am in my son’s life through open adoption, a piece is always going to be missing.

An adoptive Mom once said to me that before she adopted her third child she felt like a piece of her was missing. Once she adopted her last child, she said she felt the missing piece no more.

So, if we look at it like that, we have one person giving away a piece of her while another gains her missing piece. Oh, how I wish there was a perfect solution. I wish that women didn’t have to loose a piece of themselves in order to do what they felt was best by their child and I wish that other women felt whole and didn’t feel like they had a missing piece. Unfortunately though, we don’t live in utopia. We don’t live in a perfect world because in a perfect world we wouldn’t need adoption and there would be no missing pieces. For anyone.

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