The permanence of this baby baffles me. After losing Lucius, the sweet boy who we fought for to join our family, I haven’t allowed myself too much brain space to think past the present about my kids. I know full well tomorrow isn’t promised. I savor today. Yet, here I am in awe that he is here day after day. His bright eyes and familiar features greet me each morning. I’m learning to adapt day by day to his needs while still attendig to the needs of my energetic four year old. Our four year old is adopted and the baby is biological. Like most adoptive parents will tell you, there is literally no difference in your love for your kids whether from another or from your womb, and we’ve found that to be true.
However, there are differences that are shaping the course of this season. In adoption you enroll in the fight of your life to bond with this baby born to another woman. I never took it lightly and still do not. You work to prove yourself as a source of comfort, sustenance, protection, discipline, and most importantly, love. With the birth of this baby I see his utter dependence on me for everything. If he sees me he calms down, I am his only source of food. My heartbeat against his skin brings comfort. The ease of the bonding is a far cry from adoption, yet in each circumstance I’m fighting to be the mama I know each of these boys need. I’ve never seen mothers of multiple kids as strong as I do now. They are straight up warriors for the cause of love, protection, and care.
Adopting first and birthing a kid second is becoming more and more common. In other’s words I’ve done it “backwards” but it’s the road we chose and we wouldn’t trade it for the world. We knew the adjustment for our oldest would be difficult and the most difficult part would be “sharing” me. I could never have fathomed how much I would miss our constant one on one time. The only tears that have been shed since coming home from the hospital have been over my firstborn, not being able to be what I perceived he needed. I overheard him singing himself to sleep songs of “how his mommy loves him”. He knew it to be true but even in the quietness of his heart he spoke over himself. Oh how I love him. I know it’s a season and we will all find ourselves in the new chapter of the story of our family, but I can attest that it’s harder than I could have ever planned for. My heart has grown four sizes in my adoration and ardent love for him. I never realized that an unexpected gift of having a second child is falling in love with your first all over again. As time has passed and he is making steps to adjust to our new normal, I see more and more beauty everyday in the dynamics of my little tribe. It’s crazy hard and crazy beautiful.
Have you read how I met my adopted son for the first time? Or how I’m falling in love with him all over again?