In 4 months, Lord willing–we will find ourselves at the hospital again to bring home another baby. Baby #6. Oh I’m beside myself and can’t WAIT!
Expecting this time around with older children has led to more questions–MANY more questions about how things work;). Momma–are you going to chew your food better so the baby can eat it too? Momma–how does the baby sleep in there? Momma–how long has the baby been growing in there? And the questions progress to the point of your beginning to buy lovely educational books;).
All this baby talk, the my older kids have been asking even more questions about what it was like when they were born. We popped in a home videos tonight and watched some of their first days–ending on Frank’s (our last biological child’s) hospital video. Giggles filled the room as the oldest two saw themselves 7 years younger meeting their brother for the first time. Parker looked at his new baby brother and told him he’d teach him all about flag football and soccer and basketball and spiderman. Laney kissed him and told him she’d teach him ballet. We all laughed on the video–and we all laughed when we heard it tonight in the living room.
But then. In another chair across the room. Tears fell.
And some times. It’s just rip-your-heart-out hard to be an adoptive mom.
Because there are some moments that just remind you that for some–the story was and is just different.
You kick yourself as a mom thinking, “Gosh–I should have known that would strike a cord”…but the reality it–you never know when grief will be triggered. Some times during the obvious and some times during the most surprising moments.
You struggle also with wanting your kids who do have one story to get to do things like watch home videos of those moments…and to watch them as a family–but really…with adoption–and being an adoptive family–things are just different. And this…the different–is part of it. There was loss for some of my babies because of adoption–so there will be loss as a family–for all of us in many different ways. The tears fall…your mother heart breaks–and instead of fixing it…you just sit and hold the hard with them.
