My Perspective on Motherhood

As a first time foster parent my life was very different.  I didn't get to dream of a future with my kids. I never had baby showers.  I never met or saw my children before they arrived at our door.  I entered into the relationship without many details of their previous situations.  I never knew how long they would be with me.  I didn't plan extravagant birthday celebrations.  I didn't dream of their college or what great things they would accomplish in life.   I constantly was balancing between loving openly and unconditionally with not attaching too much that I couldn't go on after they left.  That balancing act lasted about a week.  I quickly realized that God had created me to be open with reckless abandon from the moment I met each child.  No matter their struggles.  No matter the behaviors.  I loved them.  Accepted them.  And never gave up hope for them.  I still haven't.  I think often of the foster children who were in our home that had left.  Some were reunited while others needed a different setting to thrive.

But I think the hardest part was praying fervently for their biological families to respond to God and be able to be reunited with their children.  This was a very humbling experience.  To place the biological families who were imperfect and many committed acts that almost seem unforgivable above my own desires.  My desire to be a mom.  I still pray for them.  I pray that one day my children can return and be a witness to them.

I think back and early on I thought love could conquer all.  Boy was I wrong.  Don't get me wrong love is essential but so much more is needed.  My love would never erase all the previous pain.  My love could not undue the biological changes that occurred due to drugs or alcohol abuse.  My love could not change the genetic disposition to mental illness.  My love could never quiet the voice inside that told my children they were not good enough.

So in the early years John and I decided that our mission as parents was to share God with our children.  Our purpose was for each of them to develop a love for Christ and never be concerned about cultivating a love for us as their parents.  We made it not about us.  Being a parent requires thick skin and being the parent of foster/adoptive kids that much more.   This was hard.  This meant never taking their words personally.  Never dwelling on the physical harm they may cause.  Never being concerned with the possessions that were shattered and broken in a rage.  And never promising I would always be there when I never had the knowledge to see the future. Never expecting they would love you as a mom.  Never being accepted as their "mom" but always seen as the foster mom or adoptive mom.  Never giving up on them because they really "weren't yours anyways".  But every day slowly and gently leading them to know God.  I was imperfect.  I was flawed.  I didn't handle situation well and lost composure.  But God was perfect.  God loved without ceasing.  God never left them.  And God showed up big in those early years and still does today.

As time went on and children were in and out of our home, a few things changed.  We do have children who without a doubt see me as Mom.  The only Mom they have ever known.  But I have some (even adopted ones) that I am no more than the caregiver.  The relationship is strained.  The discussions are tense.  I feel completely inadequate  in the relationship.  Those are the hardest because those are the relationships that if allowed a small voice whispers I failed.  I failed as a mom.  I failed as a Christian.  I failed to show enough love and concern to overcome.

We no longer foster and have adopted 7 so far.  God still shows up.  I never got the perfect house with the white picket fence.  Every stage of life with my kids brings a new set of struggles and pain.  As they begin to better understand adoption they face the reality that someone left them.  As they grow, mental illness that was once under control is now reset and we are back at square one.  The small voice that whispers you are not good enough gets louder when others are harsh to you at school.  The realization you are different hits home in the middle school years.  The feeling that you never can connect with others surfaces when dating and relationships begin.

So Mother's Day for me is different.  I have lots of joy but I also feel pain.  I see my children who cannot bond and I worry about their futures.  I think about the first mom for each of them.  Where is she?  What is she feeling?  Does she know her kids are loved?  Does she care?

Some days I think if I had it to do all over again I would choose a different path, an easier one.  A journey with less pain and sorrow. But then God brings to mind a memory of joy or triumph with my children and reminds me of why I was chosen for my special journey of motherhood as we are Growing Up on Dublin Lane.