We’ve had some hard weeks recently. These little pockets of difficulty manifest themselves throughout the year and somehow we never expect it. It’s like falling down the stairs. Everything is going great and then your foot misses a step and it’s all downhill from there.
I’m speaking about trauma and parenting a child with an extensive past that we don’t fully understand.
In the middle of this recent bout with hard stuff I reflected deeply on the way we chose to form our family. I asked myself “would I still choose this, given the chance to do it all over again.” I gave that thought a couple days to process as I fielded calls and emails from the school and sat with my child while she did everything in her power to skip her assigned reading that evening. My answer came slowly, but resolutely, YES I would choose this all over again.
I would choose this again because she is my child. Three years ago I stood in a dimly lit Chinese office building, I dipped my hand in red ink and pressed my palm onto a balmy piece of paper inscribed with words promising to mother the scared little girl perched in my lap. And with great ceremony Calvin and I took her hand, pressed it into the same red ink and pushed her palm down onto the paper and she promised to trust us.
I didn’t meet her until 5 1/2 years of her life had been spent without me. And I’ve spent the past 3 years trying desperately to make up for that lost time. It’s slow and it’s painful and we take 9 steps back before we take 2 forward but she’s my child. No one in this entire world is more fit to love her than Calvin and I. No hands are more equipped to guide her back when she veers off course. No heart is more broken when watching her struggle. Of all the parents in the world she got us and we got her. Yes, we chose to pursue her. We saw a picture and read a story and chose to find her. But I can’t believe in chance. Just as my biological children formed in my womb, my children from across the ocean formed in my heart. They were always there, it just took me longer to find them. This is not said to romanticize a process that begins with loss and brokenness. This is said to affirm that there was no wavering in this matter for me. My children are my children. And their battles and struggles are now mine.
So yes, a million times yes. My girl… I will always say yes to you.
Margaret Wise Brown said it best in her book The Runaway Bunny
Once there was a little bunny who wanted to run away.
So he said to his mother, “I am running away.”
“If you run away,” said his mother, “I will run after you.
For you are my little bunny.”
“If you run after me,” said the little bunny,
“I will become a fish in a trout stream
and I will swim away from you.”
“If you become a fish in a trout stream,” said his mother,
“I will become a fisherman and I will fish for you.”
This stinkin’ little bunny continues to propose a million ways to escape his mommy. But mommies are smart and we are fierce. And no matter where our children go or how far they push away we are one step behind.
Every day I choose to mother. I limp to to the field some days, but I keep showing up.
Your situation may not look like mine. But whatever it may be I encourage you to keep showing up, keep fighting for your kids and finding them wherever they go. They are waiting and watching. They are testing and pushing your limits. Show them what a momma’s love looks like. Broken, imperfect and messy… but it’s there saying yes… every single day.