adoption is ugly

It's National Adoption Awareness Month.  If you've been on this journey with us for a while, you've seen us ache for children who need families, glow with anticipation, over-the-moon with tiny bundles in our arms, campaign the value and equal-ness of adoption as a way to build families, and truly delight in our children.

But let's be real.  Adoption is ugly.  You know that whole part about his first mom not raising him? We can't just skip that part or gloss over it or tell the story once and close the book.  No, he wonders and imagines and can't make sense of this reality of being adopted.  He wants to know e-v-e-r-y detail about his first mom and birth history, stuff we don't know (like why?) and stuff he isn't, in my opinion, ready to hear. It's a daily conversation we have, some days an ongoing theme, almost always initiated by him.  And if he's talking about it so much, I know it's on his mind even more. 

It hurts me.  Not at all because I'm insecure about my position of "Mom".  I've heard, and understand, some adoptive moms feel hurt, believing if a child wonders or feels sad about the loss of his first mother, she hasn't "done/been/loved/bonded enough".  We moms are great at blaming ourselves for things.

But it's not about me.  I'm Mom, and no one is questioning that. But I'm Mom because she isn't.  There is a brokenness in his heart and I can't fix it. That's why it hurts me, I am on this journey of grief with him.  As exhausting as it is, I'm thankful he allows me to be a part of his journey and pray that I will always be approachable and receptive with patience.  Because sometimes I want to gloss over the sad parts and get to the happy ending. I want to close the book and put it on a shelf.  Easy for me, I lost nothing and gained everything through adoption. So, in honor of National Adoption Awareness Month, I resolve to hate the ugliness of adoption with my son.