adoption · faith · parenting · questions

I Wonder….

When Little Man cries, I wonder…
     *Does he miss Mama S?
     *Is he crying because my body is still foreign to him?
     *Is he in pain somewhere down deep inside?
     *Physical pain? Emotional pain?
     *Is he overtired and overstimulated?
     *Is he bored? Is he hungry?
     *Does he wonder who the heck I am?
     *Am I really even the slightest bit competent?

When Little Man smiles in his sleep, I wonder…
     *Can he talk to Jesus? Is that whay he’s doing?
     *Did he talk to/see Jesus before he was born and he remebers that?
     *Is he dreaming of Mama S?
     *Is he dreaming of me?
     *What do babies dream about, anyway?

When Little Man curls up on my chest and sighs in contentment, I wonder…
     *Why is he getting so big so fast?
     *Will his life be marked with pain and suffering? (aren’t ALL lives marked with pain & suffering)
     *Will he be a mighty warrior for God?
     *How sufficient is God’s healing grace? Will he hate me? Keith? Mama S?
     *Does he know how much I love him?
     *Does he know I’d give my very life for him?

When Little Man talks to us, I wonder…
     *What on earth is he saying?
     *Why is he so happy? Shouldn’t he be wounded?
     *Can he understand me?
     *When I repeat his sounds, am I saying something I shouldn’t (like baby curses? angry words?)?
     *How could God bless us with such a perfect child?

When I think about being a mother, I wonder…
     *Am I doing this right?
     *Heck, not even right…am I doing this competently?
     *Does everyone question themselves?
     *Am I making right choices?
     *If I let him sleep in my arms…am I spoiling him?
     *If I make him lay in his crib…am I harming him?
     *Am I interacting enough?
     *Too much?
     *Should I be doing more?
     *Should I be doing less?

Parenting is hard. I keep saying that.

But it’s rewarding.

When Little Man looks into my eyes…when I feel I can see his very soul…and he smiles at me with his big toothless grin…tears come to my eyes.

He knows I love him.

I know he loves me.

When he curls his massively long baby body around me while I’m rocking him…when he nuzzles his head up under my chin and wraps his arms around my neck…

He knows I love him.

I know he loves me.

But adoption is full of pain…and sadness…and loss.

And I am accutely aware of that.

My joy came at the expense of somenone’s else’s.

Little Man had no say in whether or not he was adopted by us.

So when he cries…I wonder…why…

And then I wonder…

I KNOW God is big enough to heal anything…ANYTHING…including the pain and loss my son will suffer (is suffering? has suffered?) because he is not “of us.”

But do I trust God enough in that area?

Are the naysayers right? And if so, how come every adoptee I meet in real life – EVERY SINGLE ONE – affirms our family…our choices…

Isn’t that God?

And I wonder…why isn’t that enough for me?

6 thoughts on “I Wonder….

  1. The naysayers are wrong. For every online naysayer I've met, I've met four or five very happy and well adjusted adoptees. I believe that this is God reinforcing our decision and H's.

    He may miss her, but keep in mind that their period of grief probably isn't very long. Their brain chemistry is focused on survival, and when surviving is met easily, as it is with you I'm sure, then they fall in love with their provider! That would be you!

    He loves you, you are HIS. I have no doubts about that, if he looks at you the way little J looks at me, there is nothing but love there. 😀

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  2. I wanted to restate my earlier statement: Naysayers aren't wrong to feel the way they do, they are wrong to treat others who disagree with them the way that they do. They are acting as activists instead of informing. Which I find icky in all areas of life.

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  3. Great post! I have felt or currently feel most, if not all of those feelings.

    This is why I feel blogging is such a blessing and curse. You meet peole that teach you so much and open your eyes to so much, but I also believe that most people turn to support online when things aren't really that good (most adoptive parent blogs are started during the wait, many adoptee blogs are those that aren't particularly happy with thier adoption story). Obviously a gross generalization here.

    I was reading back on some old, pre-placement posts and I sounded REALLY sad and angry and jealous and all sorts of nasty. Although I was some of those things some of the time, my blog portrays that was all of those things all the time. Honestly though, as hard as it was going through IF and waiting, I was happy. I think that may be the case with all memebers of the triad. Do we all tend to over highlight the negative when hiding behind the computer screen.

    I know I didn't blog as much when things were (are?) going awesome. There just isn't as much to say and discuss.

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  4. You know, I've reconnect with many of the adoptees I grew up with and there was a startling amount of adoptees my age growing up in my area. Many of them while claiming to be happy have decided NEVER to discuss it because they know how hurtful it would be to the families raising them to ever bring up the topic of adoption. One woman I know told me she brought up to her adoptive mother once as a teen that she had an interest in finding her birth mother, her adoptive mother crumpled to the floor sobbing and that was the last time my friend ever brought it up. She is currently getting therapy for “abandonment issues” but she doesn't tell her adoptive mother out of fear of hurting her.
    I know the easy answer is to say you know many adoptees who are perfectly content however, many of them act this way out of fear.
    I'm not saying there are adoptees who are pain free and uninterested in finding bio family, I just know too many adoptees who hide all of that from anyone they think may be disappointed in their pain.
    Even my own sibling who has never ever wanted to know anything about his heritage or his bios and calls himself a “happy adoptee”, admits that he has anger towards his birth mother for giving him up.
    And he has a right to feel that way, it is after all his life, his experience. I grew up with this guy, he is my brother, it took us over thirty-five years to ever have a conversation with each other about adoption.
    Many of us adoptees can be very private about the things that give us pain, especially if we think it will hurt our parents.
    Me, I've been outspoken about my ambivalence over being adoption since I was four years old and realized what adoption really meant. I've been fortunate though, my parents were really supportive and acknowledge my feelings.
    I'm a happy, successful person. I have a wonderful family and a wonderful marriage but I spent my entire life wondering why until I finally learned the truth. It wasn't pretty but it was mine. I deserved the truth and I had to wait a long time to get it.
    Anyway, I think it is great that you are thinking and being compassionate towards your child. He needs that much more than being told that it is abnormal to feel sadness about being relinquished.
    At this point though, he is a little baby and you definitely can not drive yourself crazy wondering what he is thinking. My advice is to love him, nurture him and be supportive when and if he ever expresses his feelings or asks questions about being adopted and relinquished.
    Sorry for the book here but that's how I feel.

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  5. Thank you for sharing your heart! Your feelings and fears are real and valid. I am sending you a hug right now and one for your beautiful son.

    We talk about Aliya's birthmom a lot, we don't want her (even for one second) to think that she was unwanted or unloved by her birthmom…this simply isn't true. It is because she is loved that J was able to give Aliya a chance at life, Just as S did for your little man. Hold onto that!

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  6. I also have felt or do feel many of these things! This is a great post. To me, the mere fact that you do wonder makes you a great mom. It's the ones who don't take the time to wonder such things that really end up doing the harm.

    Melba

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