Good Morning "Kid", Goodnight My Son!

It's been almost 9 months since we brought Amay home....and though at first I thought that the waiting period was similiar to 9 months of pregnancy, I now realize that these first 9 months of him being at home have been more like being pregnant with him......the first three months with him made me nauteous....just like my other 2 kids did in my tummy.....i had morning sickness to say the least...I woke up every morning feeling sick to my tummy.....and it was exactly how i felt when I was pregnant.....thinking to myself, why did i want this kid so badly....he makes me feel sick.....and yeap, i felt the same during pregnacy...there were often times that my 2 bio kids made me feel so sick in my tummy that i thought exactly that....and frankly speaking, it was just a matter of getting used to....during pregnacy, my stomach was trying to get used to the hormonal changes that often made me throw up merely at the smell of certain things....and with Amay, the first three months was very similiar...I was getting used to the sight of him, the feel of him, and even the smell of him...I had mentioned in my earlier posts that sometimes it felt wierd to wipe his "snot" or to clean him after he had used the bathroom....b/c often, it just felt "unnatural"......and as the end of the "pregnancy" has come, i feel excited for what the future holds for us....his touch feels more natural, his new "baby" scent is something i am now getting used to....and though he is 4 years old, he is still my little baby that i need to nurture like an infant.....he often lays in my lap and curls up in fetal position...wanting so badly to be a part of everything i am...he touches me as if he has never touched another person before...he holds me as if he is on the top of a mountain about to fall off and he needs to hold on for dear life....and he smiles at me as if nothing else matters but that i love him....and with every touch, every hug, and every smile, my heart breaks into a thousand pieces...b/c frankly, it is a lot of pressure....i am everything to this child, and to me, sometimes he is just a kid and sometimes he is MY kid.....though that statement might feel a bit insensitive, i am not one to sugarcoat anything.....regardless of who he is and where he comes from, i love him.....so very much....i just wished that loving him wouldn't take so much energy out of me.....there are days where i try to not look into his eyes, b/c i know his big dark eyes will take me to a place where i don't want to go....and if i stare long enough, i will shatter and fall apart....if i look hard enough, i see my little Amay in the cot at the orphanage all curled up without anybody to love...without anybody to hold...without anybody but himself....and i don't want to stare at him that long...b/c i don't want to hurt the way i know he has hurt.......but as his mom, i have to go there...i have to heal his wounds...but I don't know how...and that makes me feel unfit and vulnerable as his mom...how does a mom not know how to heal her child?....when he hits me or pinches me or does something unexpected, why can't i just look into his eyes and remember that he comes from a hard place..?...why do i keep letting myself forget.....i keep telling myself that nothing bad has happened to Amay...that he is fine and he is going to be fine...that his first 4 years were fine and he is just a regular toddler with regular tantrums....but I NEED to stop saying that to myself....i need to let my heart come to terms with his past and accept the fact that my son comes from a hard past...and that my son might never heal from it...and that his first 4 years were more influential in his life than i will probably ever be......and if i try to make him a "normal" kid because it makes me feel less hurt, i am just hurting him more....by not giving him the attention that he needs.....

I know that this isn't a sprint...adoption is a marathon.....and i am in it for the long journey...but every morning, i wake up and start sprinting....i don't know why i keep sprinting during this marathon...b/c i am out of breath.....so out of breath that i can barely talk to anybody anymore.....i need to slow down.....i need to pace myself.....one hurdle at a time.....ONE. HURDLE. AT. A. TIME.!!!!

Since the day we brought Amay home, things have been tough for me..on an emotional level....love him, in love with him, annoyed, love, more love..more annoyance...sad, sad for him, pity for him, pity for me....and the list goes on....but for those moms out there in my boat...feeling what i am feeling...i am here to tell you that things get better with time.....you won't always feel like a horrible mom...or a horrible person...and you will come to love this kid....who also happens to be your child.....

the first few months with Amay, i used to wake up dreading having him come into my room...b/c first of all, i am not a morning person so i don't want any kid coming into my room at 6 am whining "mommy!"...but to have Amay come in was different....as soon as he said "mommy" i would hide under my covers wondering "who is this kid and why is he calling me mommy?"....and every morning i had to remind myself that he isn't just any kid, he is my son...but who does that?...what mom has to take time to remind herself that she now has another child....these are the "unnatural" parts of adoption...that sometimes you go to sleep and forget in the morning that you have a child.....maybe he can call me "aunt" for a while is what i used to think....i didn't want the pressure of being a mom for him....by him saying "mommy" it automatically meant we had exchanged vows...to love and hold til death do us apart...that i would care for him and love him unconditionally no matter what happened.....and wow, that was a lot...from going to a whole bunch of paperwork where you were the "adoptive parent" to a kid crying and whining at 6 am calling you "mommy!"...let's take a step back....wait, let's take a whole mile back....so, as the wierd mom i am, i thought of fun ways where i would be happy to see him in the morning...i changed his pajamas to something cute..i wasn't fond of his yellow spongebob pajamas...i didn't like them, and surely, i thought that if i changed his pajamas to something cute, it would make me love him more in the mornings....and no, it didn't work...i still woke up every morning thinking good morning "kid?"....and went to sleep saying good night "kid"....

Now, 9 months later...i still wake up every morning thinking Good morning "kid?"...and i start my day with the awkward feeling of who is this kid in my house...and as the day goes on, he touches me and i remember that he is my son...and he says "i luv you" and my heart melts...and he hugs me and becomes limp in my arms....and by the time it is noon, i am reminded that this "kid" is my SON...MY SON...my beautiful, incredible, resilient, awesome, loving, hurt, wounded, insecure, but MINE....and so as the day goes on, we have our moments where i get angry at him..and moments where i am not sure how to deal with him...and moments where i wish i could reverse time and had not missed 4 years of his life...and moments where i want to look into his eyes and see all the pain....and moments where i am so busy with all the kids that i know i can't look into his eyes b/c crying a river isn't part of the schedule for the day...and moments where he cries uncontrollably...moments where i feel that everybody is doing better with him than me...and i am supposed to be his mother....and moments where he hits me and pulls my pants down to get my attention (yeah, happened today and i give you the okay to laugh about it!)..and moments where i have run out of answers...and as a mother, i should never run out of answers, right?...but that is what adoption is all about.....so to those mothers out there who have reached out to me numerous times about their struggles....i want to say that adoption makes us feel vulnerable and incompetent at times....but at the same time, it humbles us....and that is what Amay does...he humbles me....by letting me know that i don't have all the answers...and it is okay.....b/c he doesn't want me to have all the answers..he just wants to know i love him even when he pulls my pants down when he gets mad...i do still love him, i just need to be better at showing him....so now, 9 months later, as he sleeps in his bedroom while i write this, i say to him "goodnight my son, sweet dreams..."...and in the morning he will probably be just a "kid" again....but i will continue to fight until this kid never feels like a kid to me again...just my son...every morning and every night.....that is why he is here....to have a mother every morning and every night.....good night my dear son!!!