Mommie or Bust ~ A Mother’s Journey Through Adoption

My kindergartener asked me this question this morning while eating his breakfast. "Mom, on the day that I was born, did Daddy's boss give him the day off to come meet me?". "Yes sir", I said. "That's AWESOME", he said. I adore his innocence.

I have spent so much time worrying about staying in tune with where my children are at emotionally in life and with their adoptions, that sometimes I forget to allow myself my OWN feelings. Watching #parenthood this week, I got lost in the scene where Kristina was giving birth and for just a moment, I felt envious. Why? The experience. That is all. Just the experience. I have everything else that comes with motherhood, but I don't have that experience of giving birth. That doesn't make me less of an adoptive mother, but just a realist. Trust me, I wouldn't change a thing. Just curious about the whole thing...you know?

As I have said in the past....my life changed a little over a year ago.  A family car accident. I don't look any different on the outside....which makes things challenging. Most of my injuries were neck, back , knees and closed head injury. Close friends see the differences, but if you didn't know me, then you wouldn't know that my processing center was affected. I forget words that used to flow freely. Short term memory loss. I have headaches everyday. I have nausea everyday. I have confusion. Light sensitivity. Blurred vision. Severe shoulder pain. Hip and neck, thoracic and low back pain. Oh, and did I forget traumatic stress? As if that is not enough, I can no longer run with my husband. No longer play golf with my friends. No longer play soccer with my kids. Until recently, I couldn't really venture out socially. We have attempted vacations, some were complete failures, some just disasters, some went fine. It depended on the level of activity. It has been a roug...

Hope is an image of goals planted firmly in your mind. When looking at life before you, hope lines the paths you find. Hope is a well of courage nestled deep within your heart. When faltering in fear and doubt, hope pushes you to start. Hope is an urge to keep going, for limbs too tired and weak. When apathy stills all desire, hope sparks the fuel you seek. Hope is a promise of patience, as you wait for distress to wane. When all you can do is nothing, hope pulls you through the pain. Hope is a spirit that lifts you should heaviness pull at your soul. When torn apart by losses, hope mends to keep you whole.

At every point in the human journey we find that we have to let go in order to move forward; and letting go means dying a little. In the process we are being created anew, awakened afresh to the source of our being.

I remember that crazy spring day that hubby and I  brought home our beautiful baby boy from the hospital.  Our fourth adoption.  Third boy.  I was a proud mommie.  Once again it was unexpected, but joyful.  He fit right in.  I remember when, at 5 weeks, my baby number four first slept through the night....like an angel.  Bliss ... I remember the time when my baby number four made the big leap to big boy underwear....NO More DIAPERS.  Yay!  My hubby and I were elated.   We had been doing diapers for 8 and a half years straight. For years, my fourth child walked up the long sidewalk of the preschool with me to drop off his brothers or sister, year after year waiting for his turn.  On the day he graduated from that preschool, I cried.  Not only because I was bubbling with pride , but it was the end of an era.  We would not walk up that sidewalk again.  Last kid, first day.  No...

I must share a great moment with you.  My nine year old, who is quite the intelligent child.... Lord knows, he didn't get it from me.  That is adoption humor, in case you are wondering. ha ha.   Anyways, he has had many questions lately.  They run the gamut from, "Am I Polish?" to ......"do birthmom's change their minds about adoption?".  Lately, I just wear my Adoptive Mom Armor and charge right in to the gauntlet of adoption questions from my children.  I joke, but, you have to.  A sense of humor is required for this job.  Anytime they ask if they can have "a private talk" at bedtime with me, I excuse myself briefly and run into my room, take a deep breath and then.....head back bedside.  I am not nervous about their questions, I just like to be relaxed when we have these talks.  As I said at the beginning, he is very smart and difficult to give vague answers to.  With him, I must be prepared for 20 questions and bucket loads o...