Sometimes I feel as though because I get to see my son and have communication with his adoptive parents that I should be completely happy with my open adoption situation. While I love his parents as though they were my own family, that doesn’t take away the pain and regret that I feel over my decision to place.

I often question if I did the right thing. In my head I know I did, but my heart sometimes tells a different story. Sometimes it hurts deep down in my soul that my son isn’t with us. Could I have accomplished everything that I have if we had chosen to parent him? No. Chances are pretty good that I would still be mentally unhealthy, I would be struggling financially, and I would be a single parent. None of those are things that I wanted for Punkin.

I would be telling a lie if I said I was happy with my choice. I made a choice that was the only choice to make for Punkin. I am not a radiant, happy first mother who feels that she filled a gap in a couple’s life by giving them her child. I am a woman that did what I had to do at a very difficult point in my life.

As far as how lucky I am that I get to see my child on a continuing basis goes, I see him because it is best for him. Is it good for me? Oh sure it is, I love getting to see him and getting to see how he is growing up. But at the same time every visit, every phone call, every picture, reminds me of what I am missing out on. I am missing out on all of his firsts, all of the laughs, all of the joyous screaming. I hear those things in the background of phone calls and get to see them once every three months.

So is my story a happy one? After a bumpy start, Punkin’s parents and we have a good, open relationship. I can’t complain about that. So I guess that I am happy with the situation as it stands. I’m just not happy that we have to have this situation at all.