"Let us a little permit Nature to take her own way; she better
understands her own affairs than we." ~Michel de Montaigne, translated
I believe there is a natural order to the world.
Basic, simple, fundamentals that our world is based on.
Sunlight makes plants grow.
Plants produce oxygen.
The moon controls the tides.
Drop something and gravity will make it fall to the ground.
Children are conceived and are meant to be with their mothers and not strangers.
Sure we can disrupt the natural order of things but we do so with some degree of risk.
I believe this constant ache I feel, this longing, this loss for the past 22 years is the natural orders attempt to restore what man (and woman) broke.
It is not natural for a child to be given away by his or her mother.
It is not natural for a child to be raised among strangers who deny who they are and where they came from.
I visualize my life on a straight line.
I was living life on that line and then I became pregnant. Natural order would dictate that my child would be raised by me. That she would live with me. Had she done so, my life line would have continued in the order that it was intended.
But the laws of man and someones god interfered with the laws of nature and split that path.
While a bend in the road may not be the end of the road, it was indeed the end, according to mans law, of my motherhood.
But nature felt otherwise. I always was her mother. I always felt like her mother. Yet I was not. I lived on that bend, that curvy road, for 22 years. And then I found her.
And the line came back to its original place.
But there is still a fluctuation, a gap, missing natural material. Natural order wants that back. Natural order wants to restore the order.
My body, my mind, nature, still demands me to be my child’s mother yet I am not. I could not be. She doesn’t view me that way. The laws of man say I am not.
I have her back yet I dont and still the natural order continues to bang on the door of my heart.
If I were to draw a picture (and I am a terrible artist especially with the Paint program) it would look like this. (Click on picture for larger version)
See that straight line at the bottom? That is my life, then it curves and that is the period of time I am without my child.
Then I find her and the line is restored but there are voids on the original path. Some of the original path was lived, some was not. And between the path and the curved line is static, blackness, energy, agitation. Nature attempting to pull me back to the path.
Nature never letting me forget that I am living the wrong life, an unnatural life.
Odd but thats my explanation.
A force greater than myself, greater than what my conscious mind can understand is supremely pissed off that I gave away my daughter.
I broker the natural order.
Even more peculiar, now that I draw that silly sketch, is that it resembles a pregnant stomach?
I know I can never get those lost, curved years back, I can never appease the powers that be. I can never be the mother I should have been.
What can I possibly do?