This afternoon was spent sifting through photographs posted on FB. Of my child. At Disneyworld. She's 17.
It feels almost unreal, seeing her with her father and stepmom.
I hear it from other people from time to time. "How could you give up your child? I could never do that!"
I admit, it was difficult. I cried myself to sleep the night she left that final time, 13 years ago. I've cried myself to sleep many nights since then. It's never an easy thing to give up your child, whether it's adopting them out, or in my case, surrendering them to the other parent because you know--you *know*-- you can never care for them the way they need to be taken care of. Sometimes being an adult is knowing your limits. Sometimes "doing the right thing" is the opposite of what people expect you to do.
I gave up trying to justify it a long time ago. All I know in my heart, is that had she stayed with me, I couldn't have guaranteed her a "normal" childhood. Because I have no clue what that is. Could I have kept her? Certainly. But would she have the same opportunities she is currently able to have?
Sometimes letting go is the greatest love of all.