It's Days Like These...

Before Sage came into our lives, we were aware adoption was loss. His dad & I put ourselves in spaces where adoptees + birth mothers shared their pain, their grief, their experience.

I’ll never forget how much sense it made to my ignorant-but-seeking self when adoptees shared how even with aware, supportive, informed (adoptive) parents…the loss + sense of I Don’t Belong still existed. The yearning to know people who shared blood & appearance.

I figured since I was aware of this inherent loss going into meeting my son, it would make parenting/mothering easier? That’s silly.

I carry inside me an ache to prevent all 3 of my boys from the pain of their parents brokenness.

Adoption trauma. Divorce. Baby from another man.

A non-traditional family in so many ways: unpartnered (single) mom coparenting with 2 different fathers.

At times I catch myself trying to over compensate for all the loss my kids already know.

I’m constantly in my head, praying & fixing my thoughts on heaven because I want to give them the best I can.

I bring myself back into groundedness with this reality: I cannot remove their loss, prevent their pain, or keep them from the effects of brokenness.

Brokenness is simply a part of living on earth.

I *can* continue to model how to navigate these things.

I can teach them to look at their wounds, be brave by listening to the heart + Spirit God put inside them.

I can show them how to live in the authentic duality of grief + gratitude, pain + joy.

We had so much fun on the lake yesterday.

I had separate conversations on a kayak with both big boys about adoption, split parents, meeting birth family, having two homes, missing former siblings.

It feels right to create space for these convos, even at 5.

We talked about the heavy stuff then we spent hours jumping into the lake.

At the end of the day, I have to open my hands & surrender my kids to Jesus. Knowing I am doing my best.

It’s all we can offer. Our best. & trust that He holds their hearts better than I can.