Today, was a rough yet beautiful disaster. It started with my son waking up at 3am tossing and turning. He couldn’t get comfortable, no matter how much he tried. His little belly was grumbling with pain. The impending alarm was approaching at 545, can you guess the outcome?
You guessed it, this mama is running on no sleep.
Normally, I would be cranky at such a thing. Be resentful that I couldn’t get any rest while Justin snored away. Yet I was filled with so much love and gratitude that my baby, my son still needed me. You see there have been many times that my toddler cried when I came home, for in his brain he must have known mommy is home therefore daddy must leave. I felt that my world was constantly crashing down, my heart broken into a million pieces. Shouldn’t he be running into my arms after not seeing me all day? Shouldn’t he miss his mommy? What am I doing wrong? What is wrong with me?
Motherhood was a catalyst for my healing.
It allowed me to break free from the misconceptions and beliefs that held me in my own miserable contempt. Most of these I had acquired throughout life by others who seemed to have it together. Motherhood forced these emotions to surface in such a profound way breaking the illusion of these chains that I thought were long gone, but truly there was more depth then I could ever have imagined. I could either let this break me down by gnawing at my soul, or I could allow this to build me up to be the person I aim to be.
I wouldn’t be me, if I didn’t do both. I do not regret any of it for it has taught me the value in darkness and how it is the epitome of light. For you cannot have light without first enduring the darkness. You see I dwelled in the pain, and I swam in the darkness. Depression overwhelmed me for what seemed like eternity, crying so loud but noone could hear me. He was a part of me, literally, a part of me. Why is he so far away? He heard my heartbeat, the blood pumping through my veins, the air in my lungs and yet he cried when he saw me?
The more I dug deeper the bigger the wound I found. I thought I was a terrible mother, which is why he preferred to spend his time with daddy. The truth is even more raw, for it cuts me at my core. I tried so desperately to be the cool mom that he would want to see, but even that didn’t work. What he really, truly wanted was the genuine mommy. The mommy that has feelings, who he can see and feel. But I was afraid. I was trying so hard to be the perfect mom, to make sure all of his needs were met and wants were taken care of. He could tell I was burnt out, he could tell I was in pain yet denying it. He knew. He just knew I had the weight of the world on my shoulder. I didn’t know it at the time, but I do now.
Being adopted comes with its own root of problems, but for now let me shed some light on one of my many insecurities. The fear of abandonment. I have this reoccurring fear that grips me so bad that I am never good enough for those around me and they will just up and leave. Now with that being said can you imagine the pain and agony I was feeling. Those around me did nothing to help ease my emotions, they did nothing to reassure me that all was well. Even if they did I wouldn’t believe them anyway. His actions solidified my fear and kept me stagnant as if I was literally a deer in headlights. But I know way too much now. This wasn’t who I was becoming, this isn’t me.
When I finally came to terms with it, I realized I could breathe. I could literally feel like the weights were slowly being lifted. I began seeing Jack for who he truly is, and not someone I could keep by my side forever. I saw his personality bubble even more. When I see him being sweet and thoughtful, it brings me to tears. For instance, when he brings me a drink because he knows its mine and I am thirsty, or he sees mickey has a booboo so he puts a bandaid on it and kisses it. I often let him figure out things because I am curious as to how he will figure it out, there is never a doubt in my mind that he won’t. I just want to see how his brain operates. I encourage him to try, even if sometimes I am completely exhausted. I dont want him to fit in, I want him to stand out. I want him to be able to say I can do this even when people are filling him with doubt. I want him to be whole, and come from a place within. I let him feel his emotions, I let him scream and shout. I understand. I am there for him when he needs me, I am there for him when he wants me. Above all else, I know now that I am his safe place. But first, I am my safe space.
With time, he will understand that and embody it as well.