It is adoption awareness month. I feel like I’ve written down my journey and talked about it so many times- but I’m pretty sure the majority of those are the blog posts in my head. If not, perhaps it bears repeating….at least for my mental health.
Recently I was reminded by a friend that the more we talk about our struggles and are open, others are sometimes better for it. This may or may not be true for some, but at the end of the day I always prefer transparency and honesty to a facade of togetherness. From experience, that wall can only stand on its own for so long before it crumbles to the ground crushing you beneath it.
If you’ve seen my son- you know that what I’m about to say is true. He is FREAKING ADORABLE. His smile is just…well, it’s just magic. If he shines that grin upon you, you will feel as if he’s given you a special gift.
I treasure that smile, because some days? Some days are really hard. I say this not to betray my son- but as a way to embrace mama and babas that are struggling to keep it together...Cause I know from experience that when my kid has big emotions, mine generally follow as well. . I’m still figuring out how to deal. How to help my little guy deal.
Talk a mental walk with me for a moment. A little glimpse into our day-
I’m up, caffeinated, in my favorite chair, reading my devotions, catching up on facebook, (having already sent Wyatt off to school) when my sweet Alex comes running, “sneaking” around the corner, grinning ear to ear, bouncing into my lap for 5 seconds while I nuzzle his neck, kiss his face and smell his hair. I savor this moment- because I’m not sure what the rest of the day will hold. But for this 5 seconds we settle into one another; intuitively knowing that this hug is desperately needed to start the day right- if even just for this 5 seconds. Because 5 seconds later, like many 5 year olds I know, this mood can change in an instant. It could be due to offering him the wrong beverage, shirt, or his not wanting to wear socks on this particular day. Really, who’s to know? In this respect he is like every other 5 year old in the world. I know you mommas of 5 year olds feel me on this.
What sets him apart from many other 5 year olds is his history. The deep, deep layer of trauma that lays bubbling beneath the surface.
Let’s face it- adoption in itself can be traumatic. Put yourself in that precious child’s shoes for a moment. The separation from the mama's voice heard while in utero…being brought to a place filled with strange voices in a strange place with other children. The lack of necessary stimulation and attention leading to the development of self soothing behaviors, survival skills and necessary coping skills - just to get through the day. A new family arrives, taking him from the only environment he’s ever known, to learn new things, taste new foods, learn a new language. Exciting things, scary things……his brain is ignited and the stress response ensues.
Today I turned off the warm shower Alex was under after swimming lessons without warning.
That action I would pay for for the rest of the day. To do something without warning, was paramount to tragedy in his brain. Often times the fight response is ignited and I have to choose my next words and actions carefully. He is hurting. His developing brain has not learned the appropriate responses because all he was worrying about for the first year and a half of his life was to survive. Sometimes I choose poorly. The good news is...I ALWAYS get a redo.
I never want to purposely diminish what he views as important compared to what I view as important. There is a significant disparity between what I view as a stressor and what he does. That shower was warm, it was soothing, comforting- and then without any warning it was ripped away. I had not given appropriate warning, I had not verbally given him a chance to prepare that this wonderful relaxing moment was going to end. The fact that we were running late to school and needed to eat lunch, and pick up the backpack I had forgotten at home was of absolutely no consequence to him. I turned off his shower- and he reacted. It is moments like this ALL through the day. Many times in hind site and reflection I can see why he reacted the way he did. In the moment? SO much more difficult.
I lean into what I know. This. He feels safe with me. He knows I will love him regardless of his behavior. His behavior is NOT who he is. It is a symptom of his trauma that piece by piece we will work through at developmentally appropriate ages.
Why take the risk on adoption..on a child, whom, in many cases you have no idea a thing about their history, or family background? Why you ask? Because adoption is life transforming. I have a strong faith, and for me, that translates beautifully into the picture of adoption. I have been adopted into the family of Christ. My Heavenly Father has unfathomable love for me. He is my protector, his is my rock, my stronghold. The fact that I can bestow love onto a child that is fatherless is a GIFT.
The question been brought forth before- What if he turns his back on you one day? Says you aren’t my real mother? Well, I certainly didn’t get into this journey to be loved. It is a hard, yet rewarding road. I’m not in it for the promise of adoration or accolades. Will and I are to love our children well, to spill out the love that we have from our FATHER onto our children. There is never the promise that this will be returned..nor should we ever give with the expectation of getting back. That is not the purpose or intent of this journey. Alex is not lucky we adopted him. We are not heroes for adopting him. We are not good or special for loving our son into our family. The last thing I’d ever want is for someone to say I admire you. Please don’t.
What I have learned on this adoption journey is for goodness sake, Aly, this is not about you. It has taken me a long time to get to the place (and still!) try not to view his behaviors as a personal attack. He is growing- learning to trust, processing his past, his present…what exactly that all means. When his brain is filled at that moment with all the feelings and all the thoughts, the propensity for him to explode is high.
What does this mean of me. As a frazzled, emotionally and physically worn down mother...what does this mean?
It means I need to seek help. Help is not synonymous with being weak. Going to a therapist to obtain more coping skills to help me help my son is planning, not giving up. Joining a support group of parents who get it, all the trials, pain and deep hurts is not weak. Being honest is NOT weak.
Alex has taught me to love more deeply. He has taught me to be more empathetic. He has taught me patience. He has taught me to rely on my Jesus and not on self help books. He has taught me to slow down. He has taught me better time management. He has taught me to embrace, love and appreciate my family of origin- to appreciate the ability to KNOW them. He has taught me that help is not weakness. He has taught me to be transparent and to open myself up to having deep friendships. I feel that the Lord has used this child to transform our lives. He is so so precious. My heart could nearly burst at what I wouldn’t do for him- and it makes it so much sweeter that my Father feels the same for me.
So yes . Adoption is not for the weak of heart-BUT... it will break you down and mold you into the best person you could possibly be. Trust me.
My eldest is so patient with me as I navigate through these uncharted waters. Everything we go through with this boy is a first. As soon as we think we have this parenting thing figured out, we end of circling back.... Through it all? Wyatt teaches me to be my best self. He accepts my apologies, my requests for forgiveness, and we both try just a little bit harder....(most days!)
I've learned to cherish our early mornings together..replete with snuggles while sharing a cup of coffee and tea through bleary eyes. 
I cherish his tender, servant heart and his willingness and excitement to work with the little kids at church. 
