My Everything

I realized that I haven’t written much about adoption recently. And not because I don’t still feel as passionately about it as ever, but just because I sometimes feel like I’ve said it all before. But since November is National Adoption Month, I have wanted to jot down some of my thoughts on the subject.

Adoption is always at the back of my mind. Spencer and I sometimes have this conversation, but it’s kind of difficult for us to articulate even to each other, how adoption can be so important and yet so unimportant at the same time.

I’ll try to explain. Adoption is one of the best journeys I have ever taken. I am SO incredibly grateful for adoption, for Natty, for Mason Bug. I think that adoption has made me a more grateful Whitney than I might have been without it. It changes the way I look at each and every day. Like those sweet and priceless moments when Mason is cuddled up in my lap, his head tucked under my chin, while I read him stories. Every so often, he’ll look up at me and smile his biggest smile and a rush of gratitude just overwhelms me. Or every night, I sneak into Mason’s room and watch him sleep for a little while. Sometimes his bum is cutely in the air. Sometimes he has a whole armful of stuffed animals wrapped tightly in his arms. Always, his angelic expression makes me forget the harder moments of the day. During those quiet minutes, I can’t help but think, “There was a time when I didn’t think I could have this moment.”

Conversely there are those more frustrating situations when M has a total screaming meltdown in the middle of the grocery store and my best efforts to remedy the situation only seem to make it worse. And as I flusteredly (and quickly!) try to make my way to the check out and get the heck out of the store, my mind is naturally reeling with thoughts of “Gosh, how embarrassing, I can’t seem to manage to even control my own kid!” and “Arrrggg child why are you doing this right now?” But often times, riding along on the tails of those less kindly thoughts comes, “There was a time when I didn’t think I could have this moment.”

I’m not saying that I am the most grateful mother out there. I wish I was. I do TRY to be thankful, though I know I often fall short. I think we all have unique trials or experiences that become the lens that colors our life. Those things that make us that much more grateful for the blessings we have been given. Adoption is one of mine. Adoption has changed the way I view the world. More significantly, it has changed the way I view MY world. So when I say that adoption is one of the most important parts of my life, I mean it completely.

But there are times that I feel like it doesn’t matter, or shouldn’t matter as much. Like when I hear M Bug’s sweet voice singing to himself from his crib in the morning. I patter down the hallway, burst into his room, scoop him up, and cover him with kisses. Mason will usually put his pudgy little hand on my cheek and say, “Mommy!” On those perfect occasions, I’m not thinking, “Man, I sure do love my adopted son.” I’m mostly just thinking, “Wow, I love him so much. I’m so lucky to be his mama.” It’s not that I forget how he came to be a part of our family. I could no sooner forget Natalie and her sacrifice than I could forget my own name. It’s just that in that moment I’m so lost in Mason, that I’m not focused on adoption,  

And I think that’s how it should be. I’m sure M’s birthfamily wouldn’t want us to love M tentatively. We shouldn’t love Mason Bug at arms length just because he didn’t come from us. He’s not just my son with a qualifier. He’s MY SON. My sweetheart. It doesn’t matter that he doesn’t share our blood. It doesn’t matter that I wasn’t the one to carry him for nine months. It does not matter. I couldn’t possibly love him more. I would walk through fire for that little boy.

In that way, I guess adoption is always on my mind and yet often not the first thing on my mind. It’s hard to explain how something can mean so much, permeate so many of my thoughts, and be such a big part of our family without being the whole focus of our family. Adoption means everything to me, but it is not my everything. These are my everythings:

I wouldn’t have it any other way.