Aware Parenting is the Opposite of Adoptive Parenting Sometimes

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My baby cries like a banshee flinging herself down stubbornly when I try to pick her up. I am confident so I continue trying to take her. I know where her tears are coming from so they do not faze me and I talk to her softly, saying I am there for her and I love her. I do not question myself.

If only my mother got to have this confidence. I wouldn't have to question myself so much of the day, and work so hard to see this brilliant light. If only she knew without doubt that she loved me and I loved her. But alas, I was adopted and she did not know how to see an end to my grief so she had to pretend it wasn't there. A lot of energy goes into pretending though, even more than it takes to accept the truth. So she lost her cool one too many times, and my brother and I bore the brunt of her pent up frustrations. At reality being not what she wanted. At us not being her true kids, the fantasy of how kids should be- perfect and running to pleasing her. She was not cut out to be a mother, much less the kind of mother for broken, traumatized children trying to understand how they got separated from their birth mother and how they ended up in this circus of a household where they could not be themselves.

No, I am more prepared for accepting my child's emotions without bias, because I know.

That's why faith is so important. Knowing at the end of the day that you are worthy and loved for what you are so you do not give up, and that dominos how you see your kids.

That's all for now.

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