Terrible, Beautiful

January 28, 2012  Terrible, Beautiful

Leaving the hospital today was one of the most emotional moments yet for me.  It was rushed… we arrived at 10:30 and everything was set and ready to go.  The nurse came in to give us discharge instructions as we dressed Brooklyn in her first ever outfit.  M. had packed the room up and got the baby stuff together for us.  We all walked out together, Stefani, Brian, M., myself, Brooklyn, and a wonderful nurse named Melissa.  Melissa asked me if I wanted to push the baby in the stroller, and so I did.  I went first and everyone else was behind me.  At the elevators, I noticed that M. was crying. It was the first real hint of sadness that I’d seen.  It hit me like a ton of bricks…this overwhelming sadness and sense of loss.  The nurse walked next to me as they rest of them went ahead.  She asked how I was, and I tried to tell her how hard it is to be with my greatest joy and someone else’s greatest pain all at once.  It’s “hard to hold” as Portia, one of the other Open Arms social workers who was here this weekend, said.  Hard to hold.  Yes, we have to have a place for the sadness as well as the joy.  Melissa reminded me that what we’re all doing is good.  M. made a wonderful decision in the best interest of the baby.  She put Brooklyn’s needs above her own as any loving mother would do.  She is in turn, helping us, and we’re helping her by raising this baby in a loving home filled with security and happiness.  Oh, my heart hurt and I couldn’t stop crying.  Stefani looked at me and said “it’s Terrible beautiful, isn’t it?”.  Yes.  That’s exactly it.  It’s a terrible, beautiful thing.  Deep, deep sadness, and joy without boundaries.  We packed little Brooklyn into the car and M. left to go get a cigarette, which she’s been dying to have for some time now.  It made it easier to drive away, and Stefani said “Have the best ride of your lives” as we left.  Brooklyn was crying… what a glorious sound!  Amazing.  We had some quiet time in the hotel, and then after awhile, Stefani and M. came and we had a few hours of time together.  We got takeout from Applebees, and hung out in our hotel room, literally passing the baby around the circle.  M. is quite the storyteller, and so we enjoyed just listening to all she had to say.  We feel like we need to absorb it, write it all down, every detail about who M. is, what she’s like, what she likes and doesn’t like, what she says.  I want Brooklyn to have it all some day.  They only stayed for a few hours, then they left again and we just sat and held and starred at our beautiful girl.  We’re in love.  We’re in awe.  We’re mesmerized by her.  We all met up again for pizza and beer tonight… yes, we all had beer.  Stefani and I had Mike’s black cherry hard lemonade, and M. and Brian had Yingling.  We just sat and laughed and talked and relaxed while we again passed the peanut around the circle.  This is such special, special time.  I will never, ever forget it for as long as I live.  Now, we’re all tucked into our own little space.  Brooklyn is spending her first night away from the hospital with her Mommy and her Daddy, with Stefani and birth mom M. right down the hall in their own rooms.  I’m not sleeping, but baby and Daddy are.  I wonder when the paranoid part goes away?  The part where you’re convinced your baby is going to stop breathing if you close your eyes for awhile?  My first night as a worried mommy.  That’s why I’m awake.  I am so, so grateful for the opportunity to lose sleep over worrying about my child.