I wish I knew that even though it feels like time is flying, it isn’t. Time is moving at the same pace it always has. What that means is, you don’t have to decide today.
You can take a breath. You can let your heart and your mind sit with the reality of what’s happening. You can ask yourself, “What do I want to do?”–not just what you think you should do.
You’re allowed to imagine. You can picture what life might look like if you choose to parent. You can also picture what it might look like if you choose adoption. One of those visions might bring peace. One might not.
Either way, time will pass. Let yourself use that time wisely, but don’t rush it. Don’t make a forever-decision in a single moment. Let yourself think. Let yourself feel. Let yourself breathe.
2) People’s opinions are just that: opinions.
I wish I knew that even when people mean well, they aren’t the ones living my life.
They might offer advice, share their opinions, or speak from their own experiences, but they aren’t walking in my shoes. They don’t carry what I carry. They don’t face what I’m facing.
Some voices come from love, and some don’t. Either way, it’s okay to listen and reflect, but it’s also okay to gently hold space between their words and your heart.
You are the one who knows what you’re living through. You are the one who will live with the decision. This is your story. It’s okay to trust yourself with it.
3) Grief and peace can go together.
I wish I knew that sometimes life is complicated, and that grief and peace can live in the same home. The same heart.
Adoption is complex.
You might feel both heartbreak and relief.
Grief and peace.
Loss and love.
All at once.
That doesn’t mean you’re doing it wrong. It means you’re human. It means the decision matters. It means you’re feeling the weight of love and reality at the same time.
4) I’m stronger than I know.
I wish I knew how strong I really was.
I used to think being strong meant bottling it all up. Wiping away tears. Pretending I was okay. But strength doesn’t always look like that.
Sometimes strength is asking hard questions.
Sometimes it’s sitting in the unknown and still showing up with love.
Sometimes it’s choosing with care, and letting yourself feel the weight of it all.
It’s waking up each day after a decision that changed everything… and remembering your “why.”
5) I’m not alone.
Hear me on this last one…
I thought I was alone.
But I wasn’t. And neither are you.
There are other women who’ve walked this road, quietly, with pain and bravery woven together. And when one woman meets another who’s made this kind of choice, there’s a bond. A quiet understanding.
It’s the silent whisper of deep love, deeper than the ocean.
And like the ocean, love holds both light and darkness.
Wonder and weight. Beauty and ache.
And somehow, both can exist at once.
I’m grateful I found those women early.
But I never want you to feel like you’re alone.
Reach out, sooner rather than later.
This is your story. Your journey. Your decision.
You get to write this chapter.