Motherhood » The Chronicles of Munchkin Land

Mother’s Day Is Finally Mother’s Day

Adoption, in General, Motherhood 3 Responses »

May 092011

Everything kind of fell into place this year for me.

Last week was hell. I mean, it was really a personal hell for me. I think I drank my weight in Rescue Remedy, but I probably just cried it right out. It was a hard week and I haven’t even really had time to deal with some of what I’m feeling because life tends to get in the way of emotional healing.

But I just had the most wonderful Mother’s Day ever.

Sometime shortly after seven-zero-zero, my oldest son was thisclose to my face. “Happy Mother’s Day, Mommy.” I smiled and told him thank you and that his daddy was in charge. My husband left the room with him shortly thereafter and I hung out in bed, not really sleeping, but definitely enjoying the cool quiet of the room. Then my husband made me breakfast. And later, lunch.

I watched cheesy chick flicks. I read. And I napped.

I played Hungry, Hungry Hippos. I played cars. I read a few books. I chased my kids down the hall. We took photos in the yard. I talked to my mom, my dad and my mother-in-law. I wasted time on Facebook (and didn’t do any work online… well, until the kids were in bed). I left a message for my daughter’s mom. I opened cards (and laughed). I enjoyed my beautiful new plants and newly placed bird feeder (in a perfect spot for photography). I sent messages back and forth with some of my favorite moms.

And then my husband announced, “Appetizers!” And he put crab legs that he had been grilling (which I didn’t even know you could DO) on the table. NO FREAKING LIE. And then he served steak wrapped in bacon, mashed potatoes and zucchini for supper. And then butterscotch pudding (a fav) for dessert.

And the whole day, I felt light and airy. My sons repeatedly wished me a Happy Mother’s Day and told me that they loved me. Without prompting. I got kisses and hugs. And lots of food. And even more laughs. And it felt good.

I felt joy.

I said a special prayer with the boys before bed, thanking God for all of my children and went into the different ways that I am their mother. I thanked God for my mom, for my mother-in-law and for grandmothers. I got long-winded, but my kids were patient. I got more kisses after that.

Tomorrow will be a new week and I still have stuff to deal with. But today was about joy. I don’t know if it’s about the separation of issues. Or if it was my husband’s over-the-top awesomeness (because he knows how I struggle) (and, really, he’s just that awesome). Or if it was just the year that I was finally able to grow into who I am and be at peace on this day. I don’t know.

But I sure I hope I feel this good on Mother’s Day next year.

I Knew Everything. I Knew Nothing.

Adoption, in General, Motherhood 3 Responses »

Nov 162009

Four years ago today, I was a mother but I wasn’t a mom. I knew what motherly instinct felt like, that deep-seated need to protect at any cost even if it meant my own personal misery. I had felt the unconditional love that a mother felt. I thought I knew everything there was to know about being a mother. I had watched D parent the Munchkin. I had read some books. I was ready for it all.

I wasn’t ready for anything.

On this day before my oldest son’s fourth birthday, my oldest parented child, I am feeling nostalgic and introspective. I am feeling overwhelmed with emotion. I’m also somewhat amused at my past self. I think of how I felt and the things that I thought on this day, four years ago. I didn’t know that my kidney was shutting down and that I’d be induced the next day. I was just a 38-week pregnant woman who was uncomfortable, more so due to my kidney disorder. (My uterus at this point had totally pinched off the ureter out of my right kidney.) I was excited to finally be a mom after having been a mother for two years. It was a weird place to be and I felt alone in that thought process.

The things I didn’t know are the meat and potatoes of actual, everyday parenting. I didn’t know that my me time would be hard fought after my oldest parented child’s arrival. I didn’t know that you could love a child so very deeply and still be aggravated and frustrated. I didn’t know that everything you thought you knew about parenting was usually made null and void at some point. I didn’t know that the issues I thought I had overcome regarding the placement of my firstborn would rear their ugly heads and make it impossible for me to move forward as a mom until I got professional help.

It’s that last “didn’t know” that leave me feeling sad at times. I know that every mom claims that the first few months of her child’s life are mostly blurry, a series of sleepless nights erasing some of the memories. I worry sometimes that the blur was brought on by an inability to focus on the task at hand, caring for my son, due to a preoccupation with missing his older sister. I was so overwhelmed by the memories and flashbacks and guilt and feeling of loss regarding his sister that I found it difficult to truly enjoy our time together. I hesitate to take it so far as to say that I didn’t bond with him; I think we are truly bonded, deeply, on levels I didn’t know that I could be bonded with someone else. But I do feel that I cheated him out of some special time during his early days, weeks and months. I wasn’t as present as I could have been. I was lost in a world that the adoption industry doesn’t discuss with mothers who are considering placement. As I took care of that tiny infant who is now a smart, funny little boy, I kept wondering if I would have done the same things with my firstborn. I kept wondering if it would have felt the same. I kept wondering if I could have done it had I parented her.

I still wonder at times. Not as often as I don’t play the what if game (as much) after all of my years in therapy. But I wonder. Who doesn’t wonder?

I am so thankful that our small infants don’t remember their first days, weeks and months. I would feel eternally guilty if my oldest son asked me, “Mommy, why did you cry so much when I was a little baby?” (Of course, as I battled some pretty heavy postpartum depression with my youngest son, he could ask the same.) I love both of these boys with the fire of a thousand suns, just as I love their sister. As I reflect on this particular day in my history, I wonder how I would have changed my parenting had I known everything that I know now.

Would I have spent more time just cuddling in bed with my oldest son? Would I have allowed myself some more room to feel instead of ignoring the emotions for (approximately) three months? Would I have asked for more help? Would I have been more honest with myself, with those who loved me, when they asked me what was wrong? Would I have been easier on myself? Would I have laughed more at some of the things that I flubbed up? Or would I still have been tense and anxious, demanding perfection of myself since I felt, in my core, that I had failed my firstborn? I don’t know. I do know that I have managed to get one child to four (tomorrow) and another to almost two (next Tuesday) and they seem to be generally well-rounded. Despite my issues, they seem to love me. Despite my issues, I know that I love them.

So is it even worth asking all of these questions? In another four years will I look back on this post and laugh at everything I didn’t know about what was just around the next bend? I assume so. Life is like that most of the time. I’ve learned so much in the past four years, both about being an everyday mom and a birth mother. I assume that the next four years will bring about more things that I never knew I didn’t know… and hopefully a lot of wonderful memories.

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