I’ve just realized that I’ve never posted pictures of Jonathan on this blog. There is a good reason for that and I thought I’d explain: Jonathan was adopted through foster care in Calgary and the way the system works here is that it takes about a year for adoptions to be legalized through the courts. Until that happens we are not suppose to publicly post any pictures…which is too bad because man is he cuuuute. But, I have posted some pictures (tsk tsk) that are blurred out or don’t show his face publicly, so why I have never done here I do not know! So there you go, and here you go – this is Jonathan…well the back of his head anyway;)
Visiting mama’s work
I’m not the mom I thought I’d be. This is surprising, as I think I know myself very well.
I thought I would enjoy being home more, enjoy the everyday things more.
I thought I would have more time to bake and sew and spend cold winter days cozy with a cup of tea and Jonathan by the fire…sigh.
I thought I would want two (or even three) Jonathans’. Ha! HAHAHAHA!
How different things are now on the other side of adoption.
This is not a bad thing, it’s just different than what I thought it would be.
I love him. I love watching him discover new things, figure things out, process information. I love seeing him being a goof ball, his crazy expressive facial expressions, how hard he tries to repeat words and say words again and again at my prompting and is always willing to try. Even his over-stimulated crazy out of control yelling and running on the spot not listening being at his worst – I love that too (I think I love that because I see it slowly getting better).
But it just isn’t how I pictured it all going down. I thought I would have more patience. I thought I would be better at spending more time working on speech and catching him up in different areas of development. I thought we would get out more and do more fun things. I thought I would meet other moms and have a new circle of peeps who could relate to attachment stories. I thought I would feel different than what I do…Instead I just feel tired (well not just, but tired is easier to write then trying to explain an entire gamet of emotions) and that although there are small windows of time that we can have fun or focus on some goals, it feels like I just grocery shop, cook and clean, run to appointments and often get frustrated over stupid things.
It’s not terrible or heart wrenching or anything that needs a whole lot of analysis (anybody who’s been within 30 feet of me in the last year knows I’ve exhausted analysis of all possible things in the entire universe) but it’s simply just different than what I thought it would be like. Perhaps because we are still in early days (just about to celebrate the 3 month mark of meeting Johnny Rocket and moving him in!) and perhaps I’m still adjusting to new routines and new roles (I admit I am feeling more settled now than I was just 6 weeks ago), but regardless of the reason, I’m surprised at how well prepared we were, yet how unprepared we felt when it all actually happened. I guess the lesson is nothing can prepare you for a traumatized little human moving into your life and heart. No books, no amount of home study, talking, planning, reading…nothing.
There is a poem by a woman, Emily Perl Kingsley. She is a writer for Sesame Street and a huge advocate for people with disabilities. She wrote the poem “Welcome to Holland” after her son was born with Down Syndrome. I’ve always loved this poem since I discovered it when I began working with children with disabilities 13 years ago. And now, I get it. Being a parent to a boy (two boys actually) who not only has a disability but who arrived in our lives by bypassing Italy altogether and instead detoured through Holland to even get here (read the poem, trust me it will make sense), makes me get it. AND, I think it fits with how I’m feeling about not being the mom who I thought I would be; it’s not horrible…just different.