Why couldn't I just leave it here, unfinished? I don't know. Yet, it haunts me.
This year, I become aware, one of the things I really needed to do was "Let go of the hard".
The adopting process was hard. The learning curve: hard. The first 2.5 years of becoming a mother: H.A.R.D.
Big hard. Heavy, hard. Guilt riddled, hard. Questioning of all that I thought I knew, hard.
I dug in. Dug in to survive. "Just get through. Just keep going on 'survival'. " That's what your friends how've BTDT will tell you. And they are right. I dug in. And dug. And dug. I built a big rut that we moved along in.
That rut was deep. For a long time I couldn't even see over out of it. But the truth is... it was all I knew for a long time. And I didn't fight my way out. I stayed right there. "Just get through. Just survive" I told myself.
I'm not there any more. I don't even know if I recognize that person who was.
I'm now in a place where I fucking adore my family. I want to be with my kid all the damn time. Seriously. I recognize how obnoxious that is. Totally. I own it. And I still will say it over and over again. Because, honey- it wasn't easy getting here.
Looking back- I can't remember the beginning.
My minds eye sees it as if, I witnessed it all. Not experienced. Watched it. A level of seperation. It was someone else.
How did I choose Ethiopia?
I don't really know.
How did you choose to adopt?
I don't really know.
In truth: I was a different person who began here. Who began in 'our forum'. Who sat in the home study agencies office asking questions. That wasn't me. Or maybe it was... but I don't recognize that person in me anymore.
I'm a mother now. It is truly defining. I know- it is but a season it will be the prevailing descriptor and soon, far too soon, another will come along. But for now. I move on. As a mother. A mother NOT lost.
When I look back at this blog, over the years, there is much I've deleted. I'm learning where to go for guidance and support. For the sake of my child, who is now a young boy, growing to a young man- I've learned to work my own issues and struggles as they are MY OWN and not place the pressure to change on HIM.
I regret viewing his personality traits and physical needs as needing to be 'fixed' or 'coped with'.
I was the one who needed to mature and use coping tools. You see, at 40 years old, the skills of developing an attachment with another human, who relied on me, had escaped me.
I was the one who broke, and needed fixing. Slowly, with tears, snot, vomit, shit, laundry, paste, paint, glitter, blood, pancake batter, sand and a bucket load of Grace-- the good Lord is putting me back together. He's not done yet. I hope he never is.
I'm letting this go. Letting go of the hard and heavy. I'm leaving it behind and moving forward. Goodnight sweet friend. You've been good to me.
PS- I'll write from time to time elsewhere. If you really want to read it let me know. I don't know why you would, but...