an outsider within

I'm borrowing the title and concept of the book Outsiders Within for this blog post because it is just so fitting and I couldn't resist. If you are touched by international and transracial adoption this is a must read.

During a recent get together with other women who have children I was struck by the feeling of being a part of the group, but yet not...

An outsider within.

I can relate to many of the topics discussed about infant care but when the "let me tell you about my labor experience" comes up I am unable to participate. Or when moms talk about how junior looks just like so and so. I can talk about how my son looks like his birth mom and how I labored in my own way to have a child but this isn't really what people want to hear about at that particular time. I don't want to stop their conversation by adding in my own reality because it feels sort of awkward.

For so long I worked to intentionally avoid conversations related to pregnancy and delivery. Now I find myself a part of this mom club where inevitably the a fore mentioned topics are discussed. Although I'm sure no one thinks twice about the fact that I became a mother through adoption, I feel like an outsider, like I don't completely belong to the club.

But yet I do belong.

Even though I don't feel it at the moment, the outsider within view will likely allow me to gain unique insights that may not be available to those who have entered into parenthood the "regular" way. My experience of parenting will be different. Not completely different in every way but perhaps the uniqueness of my family will enrich my life in ways currently unknown.

In the meantime, I'm still learning how to navigate the world of moms.

perspective at 2:00 in the morning

Baby T isn't a great sleeper, during the day or night. We're often up 2-3 times during the night, which in itself isn't unreasonable for a 2 month old, but T struggles sleeping anywhere that doesn't involve mine or D's arms. There are times when at 2:00 in the morning it takes 1 1/2 hours to get him back into the crib. (For interest sake I have thought of co-sleeping but he is a noisy grunty baby!).

I've found that I am in general less willing to "complain" about the things that are hard about having an infant in the house. It's not that I feel like I'm not entitled to talk about the difficulties because we choose this and wanted it for so long, but rather I very clearly remember listening to many, many parents complain about what they found hard and the whole while I was thinking, "yes, it is hard, remember to enjoy your baby and be thankful that you have one."

At 2:00 in the morning while holding baby T, watching the minutes tick oh so slowly on the clock, I do acknowledge that it is hard, of course I would love it if he slept great on his own and didn't need holding for an hour...but mostly I love the fact that I have the great privilege of snuggling this beautiful boy who is my son. I know that this time will pass too quickly and soon he won't want to be held and rocked for hours on end. Soon he will be too big (ok, that is coming sooner rather than later!) to fit like a puzzle piece in my arms.

I waited for a really long time to have the opportunity to be up in the middle of the night with a baby, I will be realistic about the hard stuff but at the same time I feel so blessed to gaze into the dozing eyes of this ridiculously cute sweet pea...even at 2:00 in the morning.

car seat tipping

When I was going through some low moments related to our infertility and dramatic adoption process I struggled with seeing families every where I went. This was a hard way to live since kids and moms are everywhere! Every time while in the grocery store I wanted to tip over all the car seats as a way to express my frustration! Of course I did not act on this thought...we likely wouldn't have been approved to adopt then!

I was struck the other day that I am now a part of the same club that I struggled with for all those years. Now when I'm in the grocery store with baby T are there any women present who would like to tip over my car seat? Likely there are.

I hurt knowing that I am now a part of what causes hurt for other women.

I'm not sure where to go with this except to continually be aware that there are many more "me's" still out there who long to have a family and for whatever reason are unable. To be sensitive to how much "family talk" I do when in groups. And to put myself out there and share my story so those who didn't need to give family planning a second thought become aware of and more sensitive to the rest of us.

i wished for you

As a gift T received the book "I Wished for You: an adoption story" by Marianne Richmond. I wasn't familiar with this kids adoption book. I opened it up during the get together.

I read this page...

"Did you ever think," wondered Barley, "that your wish might not come true?"

"Oh yes..." said Mama, remembering how long the waiting seemed sometimes. "I wished for you through many phone calls...and through mountains of paperwork. I wished for you while I waited and waited...and waited."

and cried.

I love this book. The story includes sections on first moms and transracial families. While there are parts that I don't agree with like insinuating through the use of faith based language that the adopted child was "meant to be." But these parts are small and overall think the book is really good. T has heard it (while in a dozy state) many times already and I can now get through it without shedding a tear!

this mommy thing

I’ve been thinking about this post for quite some time but I haven’t been completely sure how to articulate what I am feeling and thinking. I’m still not really sure. I’m a verbal processor much more than a thinker through writing. But I’m going to give it a try.

Many people have asked me how I am processing motherhood. The answer to this question is complex. I don’t feel like a mom. I mostly feel like a babysitter in an extended babysitting situation! I’m sure this whole phenomenon of not getting the mom thing right away is common for biological moms as well. I get that bonding and attachment are a process as is adjustment to a new life situation. But there’s more to my story because of how the adoption process weaved its way into my very core.

During a conversation with someone a few weeks ago I was able to clarify part of what I am feeling. I don’t feel as though I have earned the title of mother. Some have told me that I quite possibly have earned it more than others because of our journey (obviously this is not a competition). But I don’t feel it. I didn’t carry him for 9 months. Didn’t go through the nausea, weight gain, feel uncomfortable, have heartburn. And of course, I didn’t deliver him. To me all of these things are milestones, if you will, on the journey towards motherhood. It doesn’t mean that you are bonded instantly to your child after delivery but to me there a sense of entitlement. (By this I don’t mean ownership). My sense is that I feel this way because in general most people do build biological families and this is my frame of reference. In many ways I feel that J has earned her role as mother in T’s life far more than I have.

How many diapers do I need to change or how sleep deprived do I need to be to feel like I have earned this role?

I am also coming to realize how convinced I really was that I would never be a mom. Maybe not consciously considering we were actively pursuing adoption. But in my sub-conscious I was sure this would never happen. My brain knew that in all likelihood we would someday get picked by an expectant mom. But my heart knew that it would never happen. So now that I am a mom I feel like I’m living in a different dimension which requires me to shift my line of thinking and create a new paradigm. A new way of looking at the world. The world I knew was always about me not being a mom.

I’m now working at peeling back the layers so carefully placed on my heart. Those layers served an important function all those months…protection. Ridding myself of the protective layers is much easier said than done. We so quickly went from non-parents to parents. I’m still often shocked at everything that happened and can’t believe that the child in my house is really my son.

As I’m working through all these things I do know that baby T and I have bonded and are attaching. He knows my voice, calms in my arms, and locks eyes with me. He is adorable and an absolute blessing in our lives.

Baby T isn’t going anywhere. He is here to stay. On paper he is my son. I now need to believe it in my heart.

talking about race

I recently saw this video about how to tell people they sound racist posted on A's blog A+A adopt a baby. I posted it here for your viewing pleasure as well.

more about God and adoption

I was catching up on my blog reading and came across this interesting post called Oops, God Did It Again from Heather at Production Not Reproduction that I think needs to be shared.

Probably everyone by now has heard about the inept fertility clinic which transferred another couple's embryos into a woman, forcing her to choose between becoming an unintentional gestational surrogate or terminating the pregnancy. (She chose to continue the pregnancy and the resulting baby boy was handed to his genetic parents at birth.) Just a pretty crappy situation all the way around. Most coverage I've seen agrees that (a) both families deserve a lot of sympathy and (b) the people running that clinic are idiots..

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