Tag Archives: mom

2300 Days

According to The Google, I’ve been Hope’s mother for 2,300 days today, counting from the day of placement.

It seems kind of surreal when I count the days.

It is 13% of my life.

It is exactly 1/3rd of Hope’s life.

Motherhood for me has been a challenging blessing. Hope was an amazing kid in need of a permanent home, and I came to motherhood on the tail end of a doctoral program and after the recovery of a major health event. I have no regrets, but I do sometimes wonder what it would have been like had I given myself more time to finish my program and fully emotionally recovered from the health scare. As the Tootsie Roll owl used to say, “The world may never know.”

What would’ve been is neither here nor there.

Hope were and continue to be a good match, and I look forward to seeing how we continue to evolve in this relationship.

Just yesterday, I finally demanded that we organize all of Hope’s college stuff because the chaos in her room was driving me crazy. I am allowing the housekeepers to come back this week because although I’m good at housekeeping, I crave the good scrub down the place gets ever 2 weeks from professionals. When Hope is home and the room is a mess, the housekeepers ask to avoid her room—for what I’m paying I need the WHOLE house to get the full treatment, so it was past time for us to get Hope’s room together for their arrival this week.

There are some thing that Hope brought with her when she moved in. A lot of the clothes have long since been given away, but things like cards, pictures, blankets and stuffed animals have a permanent in our home. I will always make space for those things.

Well, yesterday, Hope announced that she was ready to get rid of most of the blankets and stuffed animals. Many of them where acquired through adoption fairs when she was foster care. Basically she would be taken to these fairs in hopes of meeting a future forever family. It didn’t work for her, but she would be given these parting gifts—cozy blankets and stuffed animals. When she moved here, she was very attached to these items, so I got shelves for her to store and display them.

So when she said they could now be given away, I was floored. I stopped what I was doing, looked at Hope and asked was she sure.

She was. She said she was just simply ready to let much of it go.

She bagged up some things that we will take to the local veterinarian. We’ll send one small quilt to my sister for her kids. She kept a few things but announced that she would probably get rid of those things too. I encouraged her to consider a few mementos, you know for her future presidential library. She laughed.

Letting go of these things is really a big deal for Hope, and for me. It seems to be a signal that there really has been some healing over these 2,300 days. There’s also room for new life, new memories. Hope talks about her life a lot; her stories are different now. The way she talks about things is different. Sure she is a bit more mature, but she’s also a bit more realistic about all of the parts of her journey. I can tell she’s really been working hard at healing.

I’m glad to have been with her for these 2,300 days on her journey. I’m glad to see her blossoming. I’m glad that she seems happy. I’m glad she’s finding her way.

I’m honored that Hope made me a mother. I love her so much. I’m so proud of her. She’s amazing.

I look forward to the next 2,300 days. So much will happy during these next 6 years, and I’m excited for both of us.

**This post is dedicated to Hope’s birth mother. We do not have a relationship with her, but I think of her often and hope a reunion is in the cards for Hope one day.**


Mom

Hope and I are having great conversations about our day to day lives and how we will meld them.  We talk about math class (she hates it); boys and this goal she has of having a boyfriend before she moves (Jesus please be a fence, amen) and what she wants to do during her visit.  Conversations are getting so much easier; we are both finding a rhythm for this relationship and we’re enjoying describing our family of four—that’s right, four.

1) ABM

2) Hope

3) The Furry One

4) The Hermit Crab, pending name: Beyonce.

Hope gets testy when I don’t include Bey-crab.

Yes, she’s naming the crab Beyonce.

Anyhoo, as we were about to end our call last night, she says she told one of her friends that I’m her mom.  The friend replied no, she’s not.  Hope declared yes, ABM is my mom.

Is this really happening because I need this joy in my life right now?!?

She went on to describe this back and forth that included a revelation that her friend is also waiting to find a forever home and Hope’s conclusion that said friend is jealous.  We had a chat about not teasing and about how to be supportive and compassionate.  Then she turned the conversation and said,

“So what do you think about what I said?”

“About….?” I wanted to be sure I was following because sometimes she’s all over the place.

“About telling them you’re my mom and how they said you weren’t.”

“Oh.  I am so TOTALLY your mom!”

“Yeah you are!”  Then she broke out into a fit of delightful giggles and I could hear her smiling.

I think she will call me mom soon, but you know what, it’s ok if she doesn’t.  The fact that she thinks I’m her mom, knows I’m her mom, tells people I’m her mom is good enough for me.


It’s a Bird, It’s a Plane…No it’s Hope!

I arrived minutes before she did.  I had barely taken a seat on the oversized sofa, when she came in.  She had on a hoodie with the hood pulled low.  She peeped out and slid the hood back and slowly smiled.  I saw tears in her eyes and I started to tear up.  I said hello and asked if I could hug her.  She stretched her arms, and I stretched mine.

That hug was like finding a piece of me that I never knew I was supposed to have but being so happy that I found it.

We both admitted to being nervous, especially with everyone standing/sitting around grinning at us and watching every little first that we had.  We made plans, and the team said, why don’t you take her tonight?  A day early?

Oh yeah!

We picked up a weekend bag for her; picked up a few grocery snacks, got a takeout pizza and a red box movie.  The movie sucked but we had a nice low key first evening.

I gave her some yummy smelling things from Bath and Body Works and as I draft this blog post I think I’ve heard her spritz her new body spray no less than 28 times.  She just denied it.  The whole hotel suite smells like Moonlit Path, and all I can do is sit here, grin and pop some more allergy meds.

I’ve learned a lot about my daughter today.  She frets about money in ways that seem like she’s never had any financial security.  She misses her father, but thinks he would be happy about this adoption.  She has too many friends who are also waiting for forever families.  She likes green apples, green grapes and hates blue cheese unless it is paired with contrasting flavors.  She has a palate that is eager to be expanded.

I am deliriously exhausted, barely blinking my way through Scandal, which I swore last season would be my last Gladiator chasing set of months.  Two hours of sleep last night and a cat nap on the flight.  I am tired.

But I just tucked Hope in and kissed her forehead before retiring to my sofa bed.

Yeah, super, super day.


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