Thursday, December 18, 2014

This Boy.

Five months ago you rounded a corner and looked up at me with surprise as if you hadn't been expecting to see me. My son, I sure wasn't expecting you either, but I am so thankful that God placed us together. 

I know this life you're living right now feels three sizes too big. I see your eyes, always watchful and alert. I watch you try to get bigger when you start feeling small. But I want you to know that it won't be this way forever. I am here for you, son. You are safe, you are cherished, and you are loved just as you are. 

There are moments, son. Moments. I notice your tensed shoulders relax. I hear a genuine, joyful giggle escape from your belly. I see you comfortable inside yourself. I want you to know that I am fighting and praying for those moments. And I want you to know that I will wait with you for those moments to stretch into hours and then into days. 

Son, God is working on us both. He moved mountains to bring us together. He was preparing me to be yours long before I knew of you. He is teaching me to be your mommy. I wish I was a faster learner. You deserve a momma who knows just what you need, and you don't deserve the wait for it. My sweet boy, you've waited long enough. But PEACE IS COMING! In our weakness, God's power is made perfect. My sweet boy, God is going to get us there together. 

My son, I want you to know, truly know that you are GOOD! I want you to know that and FEEL that in every part of yourself. You are God's son before anyone else's, and I am blessed by each day that he allows me to be your mom. 

I love you, Sweet Boy.

Saturday, December 13, 2014

Giving Credit where Credit is Due

This morning after family therapy, as I was following up with our counselor, he mentioned to me that I had an incredible ability to keep my composure as a parent. I've had enough training to know that was the start of an Oreo Cookie, and sure enough that compliment wafer was followed up by the creme filling- the concern that I internalize my feelings. I smiled and assured him that I has several women with whom I could be candid as well as a couple fantastic Facebook support groups that have been phenomenal resources. I reminded him that I was blessed with empty school days to take care of myself and be ready to tackle parenting each afternoon. I don't view family therapy as a forum to pour out my own emotions. I'm still a parent there, and my job is still to be a confident leader of my family. 

This week, our counselor witnessed my reaction to fear. I wasn't pretty. I was barely able to hold myself together in front of the kids. I had a lot of "what if's" floating though my head. Seeing a fist mark on the side of a kid's face will do that to a person. I lost my faith for a moment. That day I struggled with my own knee jerk reaction to protect all my children, and I was very afraid we would be unable to do that. It was my rock bottom, and we called in help to navigate the situation. Calling help when you're in The System is unnerving! After all, these people have the authority to dismantle our family. The week snowballed  in reaction to my emotions, and before we knew it, we were sitting in an informational meeting about intensive services that felt much more like an investigation. My whole week was completely consumed with talking to Children's Division, and as the hours and days wore on, I became more and more frustrated and felt less in control of my family, as if CD was making all my choices for me. I felt an incredible need to set boundaries between us an them, and at the end of it all, I think we did a decent job of standing up for our rights and for our family.

As an adult, I've always been comfortable to be at peace within my crazy. It is truly the most freeing for me to remember that life will always come with trials, and that God is going to keep carrying me through them. I wish that had been my response to the therapist's concern this morning. I tend to think talking about my faith in a clinical setting won't cut it... as if God won't be deemed a good enough outlet for my stress. But there is no way we could be walking through this darkness without the light of Christ. He has carried Amos and I through this maze of parenting experiments, protected the hearts of our bios, and has done wonders in healing our new additions. 

In therapy, Amos and I are commended for these accomplishments, but I know we have had little to do with it. All we've done is seek God's will in our life. I want to do a better job of giving credit to HIM.