Tuesday, October 23, 2018

Common... 31 days of five minute free writing.

Mother's Day...why am I talking about it in October?  Well, sweet cards from our children on Mother's Day is common, right?

I finally got my home office desk cleared off.  It may not seem like a big deal, but when I could see it from the disappearing piles, I realized my calendar was stuck here..

That's when I started to stop being able to care. Care for me. Care about my angry son. Care about bills. Care about most everything. Or at least being able to force my body and brain to work together to appear that I cared.  Care giving is tough; Care giving for yourself is sometimes tougher so if you can identify with what I'm saying, at least you know that you are not alone.

I opened the card. He was not at home this past Mother's Day; he was in the hospital for acute mental health needs. I guess he brought it home with his discharge papers, and I'm sure I knew about the card, but if I had read it before, I hadn't cared.  Too hurt. Too tired. Too angry. Too scared. Too done with the day to day trauma momma-ing to believe what was written on green construction paper.

10.23.06 just a common day, until the phone call.  Those little brown babes crashed into our world like a rocket coming back to earth and when they did, they brought with them needs that were anything but common.  Twelve years today- 12!  We've been loving and learning our sons. God trusted us with this job, one that I'm finally allowing myself to believe was for us, and us alone.

Our middle son is currently living in a psychiatric residential treatment facility. For twelve years he has battled the affects of early trauma. We had our weekly family call today. It started with him telling me about a frustrating interaction. But, he listened as I talked him through what for most people would be a common parenting moment. For us, it was definitely not common. He let me give instruction and even said "Mom, you're right." After I picked my jaw up off of the floor, we continued to talk about some baby steps of progress. 

We are desperately praying for progress, but then when we hear examples of it - I fear it. 

I went downstairs after the call and noticed another sign on our wall.  

And I really saw it today; my boys are the people.

Help me Lord, to see the best in him, forgive the worst, forget the bad we live through and know that you, you God, is where my faith and hope is.    

So, on this 12th anniversary of our boys becoming part of us, I'm choosing to celebrate both the common, and the uncommon part of adoption, attachment and trauma and the joy that we could have missed, and sometimes still do when our eyes, heart, mind and soul are focused on the wrong things. 

Elijah and Isaiah- you are so loved! 
Happy Tuesday y'all.  

1 comment:

  1. Yay4God, huh?
    I certainly know I
    couldn't've done our
    finite existence without Jesus.
    Puh-ray-zuh Gawwd!!!!!!!!!!!!!


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