Mama2Mama

I've been thinking a lot lately about the support that women provide for each other in so many different ways. It is so easy to believe that you are the only person going through this bewildering, sometimes agonizing, role of being a parent through adoption. (I prefer not to say adoptive parent as it is the parenting that defines me, not the adopting. Adoption was a moment; parenting is a lifetime.)

Anyway, back to what I was saying. It is easy to feel alone, afraid, overwhelmed, even embarrassed. I've been there. I've always considered myself a fairly intelligent, successful person. There weren't too many things that I felt could throw me off-balance. Infertility was certainly one of them, and it seems like parenting is another! In both of these journeys, I felt like I had no control over the process or the outcome. And, as an educator, I am rather attached to outcomes. I like good grades, a good paycheque, praise from those around me; you get the picture.

Well - almost six years into my parenting journey, I still have days when I feel like a rookie. Days when I would prefer not to tackle the issue at hand. Days when I don't want to be all therapeutic and focused on my child's healing. There are days when I'd just like to say, "deal with it" and walk out of the room. (There may even be days when those exact words are spoken - just saying, there might be those days every now and again.)

I have found a depth of understanding and reassurance in the women who I've met along the way. Friends I knew BA (before adoption) are still around, but those relationships have taken a beating. I don't want to make my kids look bad by telling the truth; yet, I need to tell the truth to someone. I need to say the words, "This is really flipping hard. I don't like this at all."

And, yet, I need to respect my children and their stories. I hesitate to write even this much, for I don't want my children to ever, ever feel that I regret the decision to join my life with theirs. I know that they would, if asked, say "This is really flipping hard. I don't like this at all" as well.

For me, those rare moments when I can come face-to-face with my own limitations in a nurturing, reciprocating environment are the moments that keep me going through the tough stuff.

I hope that, if you're reading this, you too have a network of support. (As always, I invite you to join our retreat in May, but this post is not really just for that.)

See you in May!
Teresa