The tears that come with making such a complex decision are heavy.
This is not a decision you make lightly. It’s not a single choice made in passing. It’s one you wrestle with, debate, circle back to pray over, and sit with in the quiet. And even when you finally land on your decision, even when your mind feels settled, the weight can still be so heavy.
The tears, as I know them, come from the very core of your soul.
There is a part of you that cried long before logic ever caught up with your brain, a part of you that knew what your heart was holding, even while you were still trying to reason it all out.
I KNOW that weight. I KNOW the heaviness here.
Hear me out, I want to walk with you through this, from the other side of the computer screen. I’ve been on this journey for some time now, and I know the different “departments” you will pass through. Each door you walk through carries its own emotions, its own questions, its own stretch of road to walk. None of them mean you’re doing this wrong. They simply mean you’re processing.
I think we are often programmed to avoid grief because it hurts, and it does. But it is okay to face it. It’s scary, yes. Still, when you allow yourself to face the grief and the pain, something meaningful can grow there. Grief does not mean you made a mistake. It does not mean you should regret your decision. It means what you are doing is heavy. It means it is real. It means there was genuine love and care there.
Birth mothers are often quiet about their journey because the emotions feel conflicted. Pain and grief and love? How can those things exist at the same time? But we see this coexistence everywhere in life.
We see it when a parent sends a child off to college, proud and aching all at once. We see it when we care for someone who is sick, or when we leave a relationship that once held real love, or when we choose stability over a dream we once imagined differently.
Adoption is similar, holding two truths at once.
You are allowed to have a heavy heart and believe in your “why.” You are allowed to honor your child and their life while still grieving the parenthood you chose to allow someone else to carry. You don’t have to erase one truth to validate the other.
And you do not have to present yourself or your decision as a pretty little gift wrapped neatly for the comfort of others.
The raw, real version of you choosing something that hurts and still carries meaning is far greater than anything you could ever dress up or soften.
The tears are heavy because the LOVE is heavy. Carry that close.