“Is this thing still on?”
This is how I feel about my blog. I’ve written countless posts over the past five months…in my mind. None of them came to fruition, and it’s time to bite the bullet and talk about why. I used this blog throughout the beginning of our marriage and our experiences with infertility because it gave me a chance for catharsis and processing, and in order to provide people also experiencing infertility to read about it from a personal point of view. I promised myself I’d be truthful, and I hope I succeeded in that. There was good and bad, tears and endings. I thought I would do the same through foster care and/or adoption.
I was so wrong. See, the problem is that admitting that not only is adoption hard but also being a mom isn’t always fun means admitting that I’m not very good at what I wanted more than anything. Admitting to being depressed after your adoption feels like the whole world is going to judge you and find you lacking. Admitting that falling in infatuation with your son was the easy part, but being almost unable to feel loving toward a child as he’s in the midst of crisis and trying to be unloving is a hard thing to admit. The truth is ugly and hard, and it’s impossible to come off looking like a good mother most of the time. So I chose to keep quiet, denying myself my favorite outlet and distancing myself from all my friends in order to maintain a halfhearted charade. I Fakebooked and occasionally outright lied. Chances are if you asked me how we were in the past year and a half and I said “great!”, I was lying through my teeth. I’m sorry. If you know me personally, you know I abhor lying. But the truth was far too hard.
The truth is our son came to us with issues we never saw until he got comfortable, and in the process of unpacking his baggage he uncovered all of ours. The truth is that many days I hated myself, hated being a mom, and hated most of the people around me, even as I loved them. The truth is that the past 18 months were harder than anything I ever imagined and I walked through the blackest period of my life I’ve ever experienced. The truth is I failed over and over and over, I distanced myself from my son daily, and I just wanted to crawl in a hole and hide.
Somehow through all of this B3 begin to trust us, to love us, and to outgrow so many of his frustrating behaviors. He started having more good days than bad, and started showing us the resilient, sweet boy we were hoping was in there. His forgiving, loving nature began to smooth my edges. His need for a different manner of parenting showed me a different manner of parenting. I learned from him, we grew together, and we’ve emerged on the other side hand in hand, firmly attached and completely in love. We have rough days sometimes but now they’re handled with patience and peace more often than not, and we don’t get derailed. Somehow we’ve ended up exactly where we need to be, and I’ve never been happier. I have a lot to write about now, after the fact. It’s time to get truthful.