ETA: Oy–so tired can’t even spell my titles right…
Last week was tough. It was tough in so many ways.
My heart broke when Hope described her angst about going to school. I was frustrated because I still hadn’t finished the conclusion of the chapter I was writing. I was really scared by some of the things we discussed in the initial consultation with the absurdly attractive therapist (Side note: My GOD he’s is so handsome it hurts, and it might be a problem since I can barely look directly at him without thinking I’m going to burst into flames.). I wasn’t very productive at work because I was consumed with home life and I have no idea when some semblance of balance will be discovered. I was frustrated by all the paperwork I needed to complete, the scheduling that needed to happen, the permission slips that needed to be signed and the school fees that needed to be paid (I’m convinced school fees are the new hustle). Oh and I registered Hope for a few camps for the summer that cost a grip.
Then I had to get us ready for our first road trip. The road trip that involved a weekend with the Grands and a wedding to go to and Hope meeting her godparents—who happened to be the couple tying the knot.
Oh and how could I forget the Friday night post- travel, middle of the night, ER visit? We started our health care adventure at a local Patient First, where I enjoyed some same-race adoption privilege in which despite my fumbling efforts to pull out my care authorization everyone assumed she was my kid. On the one hand the ease of it was cool, but then the nurse kept looking at me like I was stupid because I knew so little about Hope’s medical history. When we got to the hospital later and I needed a bathroom break, Hope cut through all the BS while I was in the loo and just told everyone that I was her new mom via adoption—everyone was so nice, gave good advice and relieved my terror when, essentially, Hope was not really all that sick.
Got all that? Heavy sigh!
I am astounded by how much I accomplished last week, and how much must be accomplished to keep my house running. There is always something. And the some things almost keep me from thinking about anything meaningful outside of the Hope universe. I’m still sad about the things, the critical things that keep my individual life running that I simply can’t get to. I still struggle with feeling incredibly selfish at times about my own sadness and angst.
I’m tired and weary, but looking back, I’m not broken. Bruised, yes, but not broken. Taking time to reflect on the week in its entirety gives me solace that I made it, and hopefully I can do it again next week.
And I’ll survive next week. And the week after.
But it does come at a cost. It’s worth it for moments like the one in the car this morning returning to the DC area; I insisted on playing gospel for the ride since we were missing church. She broke out singing Marvin Sapp’s He Saw the Best in Me.
For her, she was just singing it; but for me, I know the song to be true for all of us and especially for her. She’s been struggling to keep her badass persona and it’s crumbling, little by little each day. So moments of testimony that she doesn’t yet realize are such, bring me exceeding joy and comfort in knowing that she’s doing ok.
Now I have to just to make sure I keep grinding, so I can also be ok and so we can thrive.
Special thanks to those who reached out to me concerning post-placement depression. I wish my agency had some info on it during the process. But I’m glad to have discovered this issue and I am deeply appreciative that my experience was validated. I thought I was going nuts. Thank you.
AdoptiveBlackMom 