February 26, 2014 by greenhouse04
Ok, so I promised to tell you more about how I am really feeling in regards to Baby M.
Well, I don’t know how I’m feeling. One minute, I really hope we will adopt him, and I’m making plans to change his name or when to move he and Eddie down to the basement bedroom. The next minute I’m pretty sure we won’t adopt him, and I’m looking for reasons to be ok with that: I wouldn’t have to potty train him or worry about dealing with long-term effects of drug exposure. I know I need to love him despite the uncertainty, but it’d also be really nice to know how to feel about his future. When I said in my last post that I often ask God to just tell me how to feel, I was telling the truth!
But beyond that, lately my time with Baby M. has prompted jealousy. No, not jealousy of his mother – I wouldn’t trade places with her for anything – but jealousy of other mothers who have built families the regular way.
Taking care of Baby M. has made me imagine how wonderful it would be to have the ability to bond with and protect my child from his conception, to be there in the minutes after his birth, to have the freedom to love him with abandon without the fear of loss hanging over my head.
I’ve found myself asking “why can’t I have just one child the regular way?” Why does my path to motherhood have to be so long and rocky, while for others it’s so smooth and easy?
I know you “regular” mothers out there will tell me that the “regular” path to motherhood is fraught with fear, pain, and hardship, too. But from the mountain trail I’m on, most paths would be better than missing out on your child’s pregnancy and birth and then going through months of stress and worry as your child could be taken from you at any moment.
When I ask why me, I don’t get a definite answer. It’s not because God looked down and saw Mrs. Green and said, “She’s strong enough for this trial, for this ministry. We’ll bestow upon her the blessing of infertility and foster-parenthood.” No, I’m no stronger than most of you. But through this I’ve learned that God will give me the strength to do more than I once thought I could.
And when I get jealous and ask why me, I’m gently reminded of these children I’m mothering. They didn’t ask for drug exposure in the womb, for parents who abandoned, neglected, or abused them. And when I turn my eyes on my kids, I see clearly how selfish I am. A really great reason for my own suffering is to help alleviate the suffering of these kids.
Yes, I’m selfish. If my path to motherhood had been easy, I would have run along it gleefully, having children until I was done, never noticing the homeless babies caught in the thickets on either side. So another reason was to force me to be less selfish and open my eyes in compassion to those suffering around me.
And wanting to know how things will turn out with Baby M. is kinda selfish, too. I can love someone else’s baby without knowing if I’ll get a “return” for all my troubles. I can delight in his little milestones, lose myself in his smiles, tenderly noursh his tiny body. I can do this, and then someday hand him over to someone else’s arms, because with God nothing is impossible.
With God nothing is impossible.