Thank you all for your thoughts, prayers, and support. I am feeling human again.
The faster I put these anniversary memories behind me the sooner I get to feeling normal again. It only really is a problem around the 10th of May which was Mothers' Day on his day of birth and was his actual day of birth, too. I have often thought, of all the days for birth, that's adding insult to injury. But it is what it is. After his birthday and the whole Mothers' Day affair blows over, I can go back within a few days to who I usually am. Sometimes I deal with it at other random times in a year. It has been 14 years and I am accustomed to this sorrow so I can go to public places where babies are now, and visit the maternity wards in hospitals too. Interaction with expectant mothers, new mothers, and families is part of my job. Staying in the moment is a skill I have learned, and am thankful for this as it is so important in my job doing ultrasound, especially because of my past. I try not to have to be at my job on the 10th of May, which alows me to manage my emotions in private. That is easier for me.
I did give him a name, written on his hospital ornamental birth certificate with the little newborn feet prints... His name is Markus Anthony on that certificate, and it says I am his mother. I named him Markus after a man who sang and played the guitar, whose music nurtured my spirits through the darkness of my pregnancy and I named him Anthony because it means pricesless, praiseworthy. I had to tell his adoptive mother once that "I don't know what happened to that piece of paper, I just don't remember..." But I know exactly where it is. It is in my special trunk of memories. It is all filled out and she is not on it. That certificate is mine, and so is the little newborn shirt that says "I got my first hug at Kootenai County Hospital," the blue card that says "Baby Boy ***, mother (Hottea), 7 pounds, 8 oz," and the wrist id band that says we belong to one another. He was my son once, even if it was only for a moment. I am entitled to this memorabilia. Nobody knows I have these things. I am entitled to all of what little I have that we once shared. Even if it is not much.
Some memories just don't die.
We have to become creative problem solvers, not just tolerant burden barers.