16 and pregnant...

I confess, I watched the season finale of "16 and Pregnant," (again, don't judge) because Adoptive Family Magazine had given it praise on it's reflection of adoption. That was a mistake. Ryan found me in bed, crying under the flannels, overcome with grief. MTV didn't glamorize teen pregnancy and their reflection of a birth mom's decisions was respectful and totally pro-adoption. The truth is, the show made me feel like I have not given Etienne and Zeke's birth moms enough thought or grief. Two years ago, when we were waiting for a referral, I said random prayers for our birth moms. A year ago, when we were just trying to survive moment to moment, I never thought about those women in Rwanda. Now, after being home 15 months with E and Zeke, I can't even think about that last moment without aching. How that would have felt to set your child down; knowing you would never feel them or smell their breath or hear them cry again. That the life you had forced you to walk away. Not long ago, a woman from our church, who has a heart for God and I love dearly, said something along the lines of "that will be hard for the boys to know that their mother couldn't love them enough to keep them." It was like a punch in the stomach. I guess I just assumed that people in my generation understood that the act of placing a child in adoption is the most sacrifical gift of love a parent could give. I realized that our duty to our 2 birth moms in East Africa will never end. I will defend their love for my boys until everyone gets what love they have.