It’s Not About Me
After another VERY challenging day with my kids I started down that all too familiar road of having a party for one… a pity party. “poor me” “it isn’t fair” ‘why does it always have to be so hard” As a rule I allow myself to have these moments, but I don’t allow them to last very long. My Type A personality typically kicks in and starts to form a plan of action. On this particular evening I reminded myself of why I chose this path because it was a conscious choice.
I chose to help kids that needed me.
I chose to be an adoptive parent and not to have biological children.
I chose to adopt children with special needs knowing it wouldn’t be easy.
I’ve read a lot about “mourning the anticipated child.” This is especially common with couples that adopt due to infertility. For me, I don’t have that same type of mourning. Instead, I mourn the children I hoped I would see heal. I mourn that I am not the person who can be the cure for all my children’s hurts and needs. I mourn that my family will never resemble the family I was raised in. But that’s when I have to be reminded that it’s not about me.
I didn’t choose to adopt kids to form a family. I chose adoption to help children in need.
I am grateful for my happy childhood and that I never had to experience the pain my children have endured. It was because of the love of my family that I chose a different path for my life, to form my own family by helping children who needed a forever home. Unlike my childhood, there aren’t as many happy moments with my children who struggle daily with trauma, abandonment, attachment issues and mental disorders.
I am thankful that I can vicariously live through my siblings and see how they continue the love of our parents with their own children. I am filled with joy to see my nieces and nephews grow and thrive in their parent’s safe and nurturing homes. Alas, for me and my special needs family we have a very different daily life and that’s okay. Some days I just need to be reminded that I chose to be the parent my children need, not the mom I envisioned I would be.
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