The Odd Life of Allison T.

Today was the last day of summer vacation and I took my daughters to see the Odd Life of Timothy Green.  I don't think we were five minutes into the movie before I started crying.  It brought back so many memories:  happy ones, sad ones, and angry ones.

I had that conversation with a doctor.  The "we've done everything medically possible but with your conditions if we do manage to get your pregnant again you'll have the same result: first trimester miscarriage. Your body is not conducive to children."

"Your body is not conducive to children."

I had a box.  A pretty and expensive carved wooden box with an angel on the top and painted in rainbow colors.  It held the only ultrasound picture I will ever have.  The grief/loss/sympathy cards I got when we lost Miller (that's our baby's name) and my hospital bracelet and petals from flowers that were sent and a pair of socks I'd bought when I allowed myself to believe it was possible.  I took it to work for a "share" day when all the counselors brought in something that changed us, forever defined us.  I got busy and forgot to take it out of the car.  My car was broken into, Jeff's work laptop was stolen and they took the box.  In just the same instance as Miller was gone so were all of the only reminders I'd ever have of him. 

Watching the parents in the movie bury their "child" it brought back memories of that box.  They wrote their hopes and dreams for their child on paper and placed it in a carved wooden box and all my hopes and dreams had at one time been stored in a carved wooden box. 

Watching this play out on the big screen caused me to sit back and remember what was once a very big part of my life.  The parents tell the story of Timothy as they are speaking to an adoption agency.  Timothy was only with them for a short period of time. Just enough to show them that they are capable of being parents. 

Sitting two rows in front of me were my two girls.  They didn't show up out of no where but they might as well have.  I know very little about their pasts.  I don't know much of their stories.  I don't know the pain they have felt or still feel.  I just know that lately I haven't been 100% certain if we should be parents.  If we're capable of being good parents.  Teen girls aren't easy.  Foster parenting isn't easy.  Going from being happily married just the two of you to a family of four with each person bringing his/her own baggage to the table feels impossible most days. 

I cried through 80% of the movie.  I realized that no matter how long I live I'll always miss what would've been.  I'll always worry if what I'm doing is right. But I'll always be thankful for what I have had and do have.