[disclaimer here: this is not intended in anyway to make light of or be disrespectful to moms who do not work outside of their home. It is my core belief that all moms that are doing it right are working their fingers to the bone until they finally collapse, emotionally spent and physically exhausted. Being a home maker, like many other wonderful attributes and decisions (being skinny, a good public speaker, outdoorsy, athletic, a doctor, a missionary), just do not reflect my life or how God made me. So please don't read anything other than mutual love and respect into it.]
I have looked like most other moms for most of my mom life. I'm the right age, married, and shop at the Gap. I have shared maternity clothes, breast pumps and baby carriers with my friends.
In short, I fit in with the the other moms I know.
I have learned over the last year that I do not "fit" the adoption mom mold. But I like to fit in. At first, you may only see the similarities, I will love my adopted child. I want the best for him. I have prayed for him and cried over him for a year. I have worked my butt off to get to him. But I am different. It was obvious when I went to an adoption conference a few months ago. It is painfully obvious as I read adoption book after adoption book about not being more than 3 feet away from the child for months on end or "wearing" the child as much as he can tolerate [I'm picturing Sam thinking why the hell is she always wearing me in this restrictive carrier (which I have already bought) and why won't she let me down to play with that other one?] or being the child's sole care provider for at least a year through cocooning where you don't allow anyone to touch, talk, make eye contact or give gifts to the child.
Here is my dirty little secret, I leave home everyday to go to a job. That is right, it is outside the home and a paid child care provider takes care of Plum. Her name is Angela. As Plum says, "her is nice. Her is pretty."
I no longer look like the others. At this point, the books don't help. The experts have no advice for you other than "you should really change your priorities and make arrangements to be at home with him for at least six months."
Well, alrighty then. The message is clear. I'm not adoption mom enough.
It is overwhelming and intimidating. My friend Ashley is always quick to remind me that while I can read book after book, none of the experts take into account that Sam is our child and that God brought us together. JR told me that although a stay at home, home schooling, garden growing, minivan driving, preacher's wife (also all good things that do not apply to me) probably would make a better adopting mom, God placed adoption on my heart and answered my prayers with Sam. I need to rely on him for healing for Sam.
I don't have to look like other adopting moms, because I am John Hinton's and Sam's mom. That is good enough.
Sam shouldn't feel too put upon by all of my short comings, John Hinton was not delivered without drugs or breastfed. And he even cried it out a couple of times, and I only wore him a handful of times. He has been fully vaccinated and doesn't even get organic food and has always had to sleep in his room. As a bright spot for Sam, I do not monitor sugar or dye intake, Fridays are candy mornings and we get donuts on Saturdays. Oh, I also allow coke.
Here is the product of first attempt at parenting...
This is waiting for my second...