After Braydon was born, I struggled badly with Postpartum Depression (PPD). My case of PPD started as ‘normal’ postpartum side effects and eventually manifested into a blow-out fight with Corey that ended in me locking myself in the laundry room for over an hour. Shaking. Crying. The whole nine yards. Coincidentally, this occurred the night before my 6 week postpartum appointment and so even thought I didn’t want to, I went, I was honest with my doctor and have religiously taken anxiety medication ever since.

3 years later, I no longer struggle with depression, sadness and being overall ‘down’. However, anxiety is something that I struggle with daily.

Side note, I do attribute my anxiety to postpartum. This was a major factor in deciding how to grow our family. I do not feel like I am ‘good’ at making babies. Despite the fact that Braydon is perfect, he was born with a low birth weight and one kidney… Something I have never quite forgave myself for. Pregnancy and postpartum took a huge toll on my emotional health. BUT - I want to be very clear… Braydon did NOT break me. I genuinely think Braydon saved me. The only ‘cure’ I have found for my anxiety is being around him. It is a big burden for a 3 year old boy, but when he is with me the world is right.

On Wednesday, we received a very upsetting update from our case worker. Her and Birth Mom (BM) met in order to discuss the hospital plan. From this meeting, she had noticed several red flags. One red flag in particular, she categorized as severe. The major concern is that BM may have been dishonest about her intention to place for adoption. It was discovered that BM had told other key players that BM was bringing baby home… So our case worker told Corey and I to brace ourself that this may be a failed adoption. A failed adoption? What does that even mean?

These past few days, I didn’t even want to consider the possibility of a failure, let alone put that energy out in the world. I thought that talking about it would make it real. So we have been staying positive, staying busy and in order to avoid talking about the adoption - staying home.

But, not talking about this possibility has made my anxiety grow to a paralyzing height. So my hope is that by sharing, I can start to conquer my anxiety demon.

If this is a failed adoption, it means all the preparations were for not. The nursery will remain empty. There will be no use for the diapers, wipes and clothes we have carefully folded.  It means our daughter may never lay her sweet head on the satin car seat headrest made just for her. (#naturalhair #chocolatehair #vanillacare). It means Braydon will never hold his baby sister. Guys - We have named her. Loved her. Opened our home and hearts to her. She is ours whether she gets to come home or not. It means we will lose her.

Logistically it also means a lot of money and time lost - but that is so far on the back of our minds it doesn’t matter yet. We know that ‘what’s meant to be will be’ and ‘our missing piece is out there.’ Again, none of this helps when we think about her. Our daughter.

The possibility of bringing her home is also very real. Because of this, I do not feel like my fear is justified. This is partly why I didn’t want to share. “Oh Grace - Making a big deal about something that has not even happened yet…”  Justified or not, my reality is that joy has been completely overshadowed by fear. I don’t know how to stop that…

Wine, prayers and snuggles with Corey and Braydon help.

XO&.