When we came for our interview weekend, J and I agreed we would not say a word about adoption to anyone. But it just made us weird. There were gaps and awkward pauses as we tried to not talk about this part of lives but were at a loss for words to replace the details. In a matter of hours we were telling Tall Joe and Songbird our story.
In the last few months, J and I have argued about it several times. Sometimes pretty heated disagreements. J just didn't get why I didn't want to share the truth of our lives. It's not that I didn't want to share it. I just want to be seen and treated like a regular mother. In Tulsa, it just felt like there was always this thing. This difference. I actually had people make comments to the effect I was not a real mother.
I just wanted to live like I was just a mom. Like all the other mothers who wanted to be a mom and went through a time of waiting and anticipation while they prepared for their newborn. Like all the other mothers who were in the labor and delivery room, anxious for a healthy baby to be born. Like all the other mothers who held their baby for the first time in a hospital room and were complete and scared at the same time. Like all the other mothers who left the hospital with a new life that represented an answer to many prayers and hope for the future.
See. I'm not so different from all the other mothers out there, am I?
6 comments:
I couldn't have said it better myself my friend. Just think, if it wasn't for our children we would be lost in this world without each other!! LOL You KNOW I understand!!!!
Love you much!
Michey Mee
I can't believe people would make comments to you to the affect that you are not a "real mother". Well, actually...unfortunately...I guess I can. Some people suck. Being a mother is about mothering and you do it very, very, well.
(I've had comments made to me about having taken the "easy way out", etc., because I have to have c-sections for my kids...they lay sideways inside of me...people will say some really surprising things to say the least. I figure it must be based on their own deep personal unhappiness).
WHO in Tulsa did that? Tell and I will go and get them and give them a piece of my mind.
Anonymous #2
Ha! Any woman who knows what its like to take care of kids day in and day out is a mom. If mothers would take the energy they are using to tear each other down and judge each other and use it to help each other instead things would look a lot different. And you know what... at the end of the day Paris and Jazz call you mom. You clean their cuts. You bathe them and tuck them in. You discipline them and grow their minds. You cry over them and with them and for them and because of them, and listen to their cries with that love in your heart. You are proud of them and get to see every step they take in life. These are all beautiful things to be celebrated between mothers every day! Not every mom is the same because of a million different reasons, and you shouldn't be treated better or worse for certain reasons.
I am sorry that people have done this to you. I really am sorry that those people didn't see you for who you truly and fully are. It must be so hurtful. It makes my heart ache thinking about someone treating you that way.
I understand. You are a mom. So am I. And sometimes people can be so hurtful when they disagree with me. Just because my beautiful dark skinned children look nothing like their whiter than white mom and dad does not make them any less mine. I am tired of going to places and people looking around for their parents and me being like "Hello! I'm right here!"
Your children are beautiful. Enjoy each and every moment with them. Know that they were born in your heart and no one can take that away from you.
You sound like a great mom!
People just suck sometimes. I get what you mean about wanting to keep the "secret". I'm that way when it comes to my Dad. People find out and then I'm "that girl". I'm tired of being "that girl". And yes it can leave awkward pauses. It's a hard thing to balance. I feel for you.
I never understood the necessity of labeling a Mom. It doesn't matter how you came to be one. Or it shouldn't anyway.
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