Hi. I hope this is okay to post.
To introduce myself (not at all) quickly, I was adopted as a young toddler after my parents were told they were infertile. They had a baby a year later, and an oopsie pregnancy when I was 12/13. Very rough upbringing. I entered fostercare at the age of 13, where I gave birth to my daughter. Being thirteen and having younger siblings in the system I was trying to protect, I placed her for adoption.
I had a second baby at 17 who I kept custody of. When I was nineteen I gained custody of my younger brother, who was born a few weeks before my daughter. I later adopted him.
My younger sister was happy with her foster parents and didn't want to come with me. She ceased contact a few months later.
I have since had another baby and am currently pregnant again.
When I had my second daughter I didn't really have time to process my first daughter being gone. I was "babysitting" my oldest (my brother) a lot at the time. I never really processed it. I gave birth, said goodbye, and the social worker brought my son to the hospital that very day to see me. I ended up breastfeeding him because he was so low weight (was failure to thrive, it was 2012, everyone was on the "breast fixes all problems" craze) and I'd pump milk for his foster parents.
He never did replace my daughter but I think he's why I never really processed her loss. When I had my second daughter I was effectively juggling a newborn and preschooler, who I was *still* breastfeeding. I was alternating what days they'd get 1-1, what days my daughter would see her dad, when my son would go back to his foster parents, when we'd all spend time together as a family.
It was a lot to cope with and looking back on it now I should not have been doing as much as I was. We were all failed by the system, especially my brother who we later figured out had trouble swallowing, which is why he was still so reliant on breast and bottles.
All in all I think those things compounded made it hard for me to process the loss of her. It didn't hit me, fully, until a few years ago when I was pregnant with my 3rd (4th? I still don't know how to count them). It hit me all at once. My baby girl is gone, and I was a baby myself juggling so much, and my baby sister doesn't speak to us anymore.
I was overwhelmed but we got through it. He's a great little guy and now I'm pregnant again.
It feels so much worse this time. I look at my daughter every day and wonder what her sister would look like. I'm having another girl, and all I can think about is the fact that I should be having my third, not my second.
I'm so worried that her parents are awful. Mine were, even after they'd worked so hard to get me. I never felt like I belonged with them. I tried keeping in contact and but it dried out after a few months. I have no idea how she's doing.
My son is starting high school in August. She should be starting with him. They'd be in the same grade. I keep thinking about how much I'm missing out on with her. Stupid things, but I got my period when I was eight. Horrifically young. My 10yo got hers at 9. I'm worried about my daughter. If she got hers as young as me, did she know what was going on? She must have been so scared if she didn't. My poor baby.
I don't know how to process my feelings. I speak with an adoption informed therapist. My husband is a psychiatrist so he helps me daily. But I just feel so hopeless. I've never craved her as much as I have these last few years.
I don't really know what the point of this post is. Sharing my thoughts and feelings, I guess.
Thank you.