Becoming the "Perfect" Mom

"You should try to breastfeed him, he'll never be grateful, he can't do what your other kids can do, you never know what his genes are, you shouldn't have adopted a child whose caste you don't know, if you fed him more he wouldn't hoard food, if you fed him less he wouldn't hoard food, he'll forget he was adopted, don't remind him that he is adopted, he will never be able to do what you expect him to do, I told you shouldn't have adopted, adopted kids will always be a problem to the family."  And my favorite, "You are lucky that you missed his infant years so you didn't have to wake up every 2 hours!"

These are some of the fun things I've heard through the years.  And though I have never been angry with any comment that has come my way, I would be lying if I didn't admit to the stress and doubt it has caused to me as a mother.  Back in May, we celebrated three years with Amay.  And though I haven't had a chance to sit down and really appreciate the progress we have made as a family and the progress Amay has made, I am able to find myself in awe of what the past years have meant to us.  Amay is doing extremely well, with a few bumps in the road.  He spent the past two years in Kindergarten as we decided to give him the extra year to grow emotionally while at the same time allowing us to separate the two boys in grade level.  So now, as we move forward, I have a kindergartner, 1st grader, and 2nd grader.  And I. AM. READY. for school to start.  This summer was busy.  We cried, we laughed, we screamed, and in the midst of all the fun we were having, we often even got bored.  As Amay gets older, we have found that he has had many regressions.  He continues to struggle with food and his emotions.  His good days are great, but his bad days often cause the whole family to curl up in fetal position.  When he struggles, the other two kids struggle as well.  And the whold family falls apart.  And everyday, we wake up praying for a better, easier, smoother day.  And many days, our prayers are answered.  And those days are beautiful...full of lots of laughter and love.  But the other days are full of lots of tears, doubt, emotions, and screaming.

As I continued to struggle to become Amay's mom,  it became clear that I would never be his "perfect" mom.  He made his feelings obvious many days when he screamed "I hate you!" or "You are a bad mom!".  And I cried, and I listened to everybody's advice on how to love my son or how to be a better mom.  I listened as the mom in the grocery aisle told me "cherish these days, they grow up so fast".  But the worst feelings were the feelings of being judged.  The feeling of not being enough.  The feeling of not being the "right" mother.  The feeling of somebody doing a better job.  I wanted to be the "right" mother for Amay.  I wanted to feel at ease with every decision I had made for my son.  But often, my son didn't feel like my son.  My son felt like everybody's "experiment".  Everybody had something to say to either me or to him.  I wasn't doing enough and for sure, they could do a better job.  And these feelings for the past three years have made things harder and painful.  I have always known what Amay is capable of.  I will admit that I am not easy with him.  And I will also admit that I expect him to excel and do his best.  I don't let him play the "adoption card."  He is NEVER allowed to play the adoption card.  We can work through his "adoption" issues, but I never give him a free ride just because he is "adopted".  Learning is harder for him because he had a traumatic childhood.  Food issues are tough for him.  Attaching and expressing love is hard for him.  Controlling his feelings are hard for him.  But I will never allow him to think it is okay not to work through his problems.  When Amay first came to us three years ago, people told me that it was going to be hard for him to read and learn.  And it was.  It was extremely hard.  But we worked through it.  We worked through the tears and made time.  And as he struggled to learn two languages, we continue to believe in his potential.  We worked on his confidence and his self-esteem.  We continued to tell him that he can do whatever he puts his mind to.  It was vital for him to believe in himself.  And I think it is extremely important for Amay to have a good sense of self and potential.  As he gets older, his "adoption" will become a big part of his identity.  But if he can continue to remember that "adoption" doesn't define him, he will conquer his fears and his past.  And we have finally realized that we can't do this alone.  Therapy will have to become a part of his life.  And so we have started therapy for him again to help him navigate through this journey.

As for me, these past three years have led me to this phase in my journey.  A time in this journey that I no longer care what others think.  I know that most people have the best of intentions in mind.  I don't want to feel judged anymore.  I know that I am doing the best I can.  I know that my son has made amazing progress these past 3 years.  I know what my son needs and I know that often, I struggle to give it to hime.  I struggle as a mom.  But i've seen many moms struggle.  Biological moms struggle just as much as adoptive moms do.  Every mom has a day where they wish they could go back to "pre-kids".  And every mom has had one of those days where she has locked herself in the bathroom or closet and just cried.....for no apparent reason, but just because she needed a good cry.  And of course, my kids have gone to school with different socks on.  I've forgotten to do laundry and had to have my kids wear the same underwear two days in a row( don't worry, i turned it inside out).  I've yelled at them and practically kicked them out of the room just so I can get some alone time.  I've had days where I have admitted to my husband that "I don't really like them too much today!"  I've had grumpy days and many UGLY days.  My kids have seen the worst of me.  Amay has definitely seen the worst of me.  But i've realized that it doesn't matter.  I might not be a perfect mom, but I am HIS mom.  And that, my friends, is PERFECT.

Adoption has made me Human

It's been 2 and 1/2 years since we brought our son Amay home from India.    Sometimes I still think about the first week of being home with him.  The horrible feeling of not knowing what to do with the "stranger" sleeping in the other room.  The helpless feeling of being a "new" mom to a child that was four years old.  Things at home have been better...a lot better.  Lately, however, he has been displaying a lot of anger and defiance towards me.  And I know a lot of moms, adoptive or not, can relate to kids not doing what they are told to do.  As for me, I am used to having the other two kids who "usually" do what I tell them to do without a full blown tantrum.  Amay, on the other hand, has reverted back to his violent behavior towards me.  The puzzling part of all this is that he only does it to me.  I can't understand why he is so angry at me, but most of his tantrums end with him hitting me, then telling me that he doesn't like me and lastly but the most hurtful one, "YOU are a bad mother!".  My husband has told me over and over again not to take it personally, but I can't help but become limp with every word in that sentence.  All the anger directed at me cripples my every effort to make things work.  God knows that I am trying, and learning to love him, and trying to see past his trauma.  But adoption has made me Human.  Sometimes I forget that I am a mom to this angry child.  Sometimes I forget the natural feelings of being selfless as a mom.  He often becomes violent and then tells me I am a bad mother and then asks me for a hug.  And sometimes, I don't want to hug him.  I want HIM to hug me.  I don't want to make him feel better.  I want HIM to make ME feel better. And that is not what a mom should ever feel.  A mom should always put her child's feelings and needs above her own.  But sometimes it hurts so much that I want him to make it all better. I want him to take the pain and words back.  Sometimes I want to be angry for all the effort I make that just results in me being a "bad mother".  And I know that early child trauma changes a child.  And it effects him and will effect him for the rest of his life.  I. KNOW. IT. ALL. Most adoptive moms know that their child has been through trauma.  But no adoptive mom can go through every anger tantrum remembering the child's trauma. Sometimes adoption forces me to become Human and to feel human emotions.  And human emotions often can be scary.  As a mom, your job is to comfort and love your child.  But as a human, your instinct is to survive.  And adoption sometimes tugs at my survival instincts.  There are days that I don't want to love, to comfort, to learn from my mistakes, to be patient, to do any of it.  Somedays I just want to survive.

While discussing some of the anger issues with my adoptive moms group,  one of the moms, who also happens to be a therapist, told me that anger is a secondary emotion.  That there is always something behind anger.  That we don't just become angry for no reason.  And of course, there is a lot of truth to that.  And I know that Amay isn't angry at me as a mom to him.  Perhaps he is angry at what mom means to him.  Perhaps "mom" means abandonment.  Perhaps "mom" means a safe place where he can be angry.  I actually don't know what causes him to be so angry at me.  And the truth is, sometimes I am so angry at him.  And so when the adoptive mom suggested that I, too, look for a reason to why I am angry at him, I realized that there were so many reasons that I have kept bottled up in an attempt to be the mother he deserves.  But as I thought more about my anger, I realized that adoption has made me human.  And I am trying so hard to be a mom to him.  During his violent tantrums, I want to love him because that is what moms do.  But the "human" part of me just wants to yell and not deal with the deeper issue of trauma.   For the past 7 years, since the birth of my first child, I have been just a mom.  I have been selfless, loving, caring, and everything that a mom does without questioning her efforts.  But lately, as Amay regresses, I have been in survival mode again.  I desperately want to feel like a mother again.  I desperately want to soften my heart and feel the joy of being a mother again.  I desperately want not to be angry at him for "disrupting" my normal and making me feel incompetent as a mother even to the other two kids. I desperately want to feel a "biological" connection to him.  Most adoptive moms will say that anger, attachment issues, and such are normal during adoption.  And I agree.  I agree they are normal in adoption because adoption makes us human.  Anger and having to "learn" to love your son is by no means normal in motherhood.  But it is if you are just human.  It is normal to have to "learn" to love another human that says you are a bad mother.  I get it now.

When all is quiet and I am no longer in "fight or flight" mode, I sit in my bed and think about the amazing awesome blessing that sleeps in the other room.  And I feel like a mother again.  And it is the best feeling in the world.  I love him so much.  There is a part of me that is glad that it hurts me so much when he says mean things to me.  Because 2 years ago, if he had said that he hated me, I could have cared less.  He was a stranger to me and I hadn't even really accepted him as my own.  And that is the brutal truth.  And now, 2 years later, his anger seaps through my heart and rips it apart.  My husband often tells me to let the pain go, and I know I should.  But I can't.  I want to be the best mom I can be for him.  And if his words continue to hurt me as much as they do, I know that one day I will be the mom he deserves.  I will continue fighting those words in my head and dig deeper to heal his anger.   And though it feels horrible, it is therapeutic to know that it hurts so much because i love him.  I love his soul and I love his little heart that needs so much healing.  I am lost as a mother because I don't know how to heal my son.  I am angry as a human because all of this hurts.  Adoption has made me human, and I had forgotten that moms are human too.