true life hot mess mom

These words are from my own personal account of the past 10 years. The other members of my family mentioned here have their own perspective, however, this is MY adoption story.

Oh, hey! It’s me. I’ve hit a new decade since I started this blog. Which is WILD. A lot has happened in the past 10 years. I haven’t wanted to share much about it for privacy reasons but mostly because I didn’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings.

What? I’m a people pleaser. We all have our problems. Ha!

But enough time has elapsed and I’ve learned a tremendous amount. Such as,

Nothing is permanent.

Whether it be physical, like the car breaking down, or emotional, like a stressful experience; it will only last for a season. It’s not permanent. Now, I know there are physical things in our lives that are permanent, like a leg amputee learning to use his new prosthetic. But the emotional response in that situation will only last for a season.

That’s right, a season. It’s temporary.

There were seasons when my heart sank into my stomach everytime the phone rang. My son ran away again, or my daughter needed picked up from school for SI/panic attacks/headaches/stomach aches/low-grade fevers caused by anxiety. Those were exhausting seasons and I’m going to be honest, I wasn’t always my best. I tried so hard to keep calm and be present in the moment but my body had other plans. The anxiety… whew.

We are currently in a different kind of season where majority of our children are young adults, living their lives and making their own decisions. With our youngest still at home and 2 more years of high school, I feel like there is a light at the end of the tunnel. As I write this, I wonder if my readers are thinking that I sure am complaining a lot, but I don’t think of this as complaining, I think of this as explaining.

When you go through the adoption classes; you are told horror stories; on purpose. This educates others on what it’s really like. And again, this is my personal adoption experience. If you are in your research phase of exploring foster/adopt, read many blogs before making your final decision–not just mine.

I’m not calling our experience a horror story by any means. It could have been much worse and trust me, I thank God it wasn’t. But it has been difficult and because we are their parents, we will forever adapt and change to the circumstance. Being their parent is permanent, but our emotional response is only for a season.

Our experience starts in October 2014, just a week before Halloween. The middle boy of the sibling group of three, was the cutest 9-year-old boy with a lisp and little pudgy belly that pushed his pants down. I can still remember his black trash bags and the distinct smell of his clothes. Clean, but different. It was getting dark and the town we were meeting in was an hour away. Even though he had a McDonald’s trick-or-treat Happy Meal tub, I was starving.

After talking his ear off for an hour, we made it back to our local grocery store. His request? Green apples. I wanted pizza and confessed that I loved cardboard pizza. The cheaper the better. He really wanted green apples and nothing else. So that’s what we got. Green apples for him. Pizza for the rest of us.

The innocence in those first few days were emotionally gripping. I was hooked and so in love right out the gate. I remember trimming his finger nails and toe nails. I couldn’t believe how long they were! I joked about them being razor sharp talons. He laughed. But the way he looked at me while I trimmed his talons will stay with me forever. I told him that moms and caregivers trim their children’s nails. He thought it was funny but softened. It was awkward for him to have someone show him tenderness and care.

This memory breaks my heart in two ways. 1. He was such a sweet 9-year-old-boy who had no idea how to behave in social/personal interactions. 2. My absolute innocent belief that true love and time would fix everything.

My uncontrollable urge to help others is, well, uncontrollable. I also love making connections with others. It’s how I read their personalities. Only problem is, I tend to like everyone. I mean, I don’t personally think it’s a problem, but others say it can be a problem. I guess. I end up making the connections, big or small, thinking the connections have turned into a trustworthy bond/relationship. Only to find out later on, that the bond was really only one way. Mine.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m sure for my son, there was something. He still mentions the chili I made as his favorite dish and remembers me playing “farm” with him. I also know that his trauma caused his inability to bond with us, but at the time I didn’t know or understand that.

We lived in this bubble of discovery as we got to know each other. After a few months, we moved in his little sister. Then a year later, we moved in his older brother. After that, we entered a new season.

(I will be posting my story in pieces. It’s heavy for me. But please, if you find encouragement from my story, reach out, and if you’re willing to, share your story to encourage another reader.)

Stay kind, love jes