steeped in motherhood

When I had my daughter after 5 years of infertility, motherhood was sheer bliss.  It was incredible!  I was sleep deprived and it was challenging - but I WAS A MOM!  I had given birth to a precious teeny little angel.  I was the source of comfort, nutrition...love.  I carried her in a sling.  I used beautiful new cloth diapers.  I nursed on demand.  I co-slept.  Attachment parenting to the fullest! 

And then my beautiful, teeny angel became a toddler. 

She was very loud.  She did not love to sleep.  She pulled out all the toilet paper, spilled out all the dog food and wrote all over herself...daily.  At one point she even added a LARGE family portrait to her bedroom wall in marker.  One of her many graffiti art projects.  All the while, she was so precious and, though challenging, we wanted to add to our family more than ever.

 After secondary infertility, we were so blessed to become parents again through foster care. 

Augie came in with a bang.  He was sick.  He took out our whole family for the first month.  As a foster mom the bonding came slowly.  We were not permitted to co-sleep.  Slowly, those not so new cloth diapers were more of an inconvenience when dropping him off for family visits.  My hands were full.  I was content and for the first time ever in my married life, I was not actively seeking to conceive. 

After another year, I had another toddler on my hands.  This one particularly loved to eat dirt.  Also coal, stink bugs and dog food. 

And slowly my desire for motherhood again grew stronger.  I refused to get a family picture because it seemed a spot in our family was missing.  Rosie was praying for a sister.  My heart was open to another child.  And with that, Catie arrived.

Catie can scream like nobody's business.  Same as before, no co sleeping.  By now cloth diapers are lucky to be used as rags once in awhile.  Graffiti is a regular part of our home decor.  And sadly, cry it out is often all we can manage.  By bedtime, i am done. 

With her recent adoption, following Augie's 2011 adoption, my hands and my heart are overflowing.  Six years ago, I would not believe this could possibly be my future.  I am so blessed.  It is helpful for me to take a minute, sit back and see this.

"I know that God won't give me more than I can handle"

And God trusts me quite a bit.  Rosie is 4, Augie is 2, Catie is 1.  All that suffice to say the glow of new motherhood has worn off and I am now fully steeped in motherhood. 

When Augie reached that lovely age of toddler, I felt the strong need to address my PMS.  I added an anti-anxiety med and for awhile that seemed to take the edge off my mood swings.  Well, meds like that add a host of other troubles.  For example, NEVER try to just stop taking them.

After time, that little blue pill wasn't helping.   It was increasingly difficult to respond calmly to a stressful child situation.  One of my New Year's resolutions was to stop spanking.  I am against spanking for so many reasons.  IF (and I don't believe there is) a legitimately good reason for spanking, I was not using those reasons.  I was spanking because I was angry.

Recently I stopped by the Padre Pio Shrine to thank him for interceding and bringing Catie into our family.  I had two kids in the car and really only stopped because I was driving by.  I did not enter a building.  I simply pulled up to this statue, said thank you and touched the stigmata in his statue hand. 

Before my car even got back to the main road, I was sobbing.  Suddenly, the state of my soul was apparent and I had an immense need for confession NOW.  As I continued the drive to see family I was crying an ugly, purgative cry.  Fortunately, I know a few priests and I was blessed to find a confessor and attend adoration...while my family visited with the kids.  Confession is the big opportunity for reset, as my confessor encouraged. 

So now, I am struggling through this.  My greatest hope and prayer is to love my kids with a positive, affirming kind of love.  It has been a good week...but PMS is looming (side note, I am free of the little blue pill (yay!) and working with a NaPro MD on a more natural PMS treatment) I put this out there because I need to.  Accountability?  Prayers?  Yes.  The reality of my parenting is not as beautiful as a blog always seems to indicate.  And so I pray.

Padre Pio, please help!  Help me and all the mothers who struggle to be patient and kind in the midst of stress.  Help us to find the grace necessary to walk away.  Help us to build up our children and not tear them down. 

One of my favorite prayers and the one I am praying for this intention.

The Anima Christi

Soul of Christ, sanctify me
Body of Christ, save me
Blood of Christ, inebriate me
Water from Christ's side, wash me
Passion of Christ, strengthen me
O good Jesus, hear me
Within Thy wounds hide me
Suffer me not to be separated from Thee
From the malicious enemy defend me
In the hour of my death call me
And bid me come unto Thee
That I may praise Thee with Thy saints
and with Thy angels
Forever and ever
Amen

Caring for another's child

Tonight, as I was putting my sweet girl to bed I looked at her and said "YOU came from me. I can't believe you came from me." She told me, as she understands, she came from my belly, but her brother came from another mamma's belly.

Yes, my love. You are so smart!

I adore our foster son. He has a smile and a laugh that can brighten the darkest day. He has such a special place in our lives, in our home. Yet, for now, he remains the child of another. In the hard times, this is most difficult. I fear I give less when it gets tough. Then I have to remember, every mother with a number 1 probably gives less to number 2 - simply because number 1 still needs.

Am I attached? I don't know. I think God has given me a special grace to love and care for this sweet boy - without complete attachment. I fear not having that complete attachment...but if it is meant to be, it will come, I am sure.

We had a foster appreciation banquet tonight. I had another mom that is not in a position to adopt tell me how lucky I am that we can do that. She is facing giving up the infant they have raised for 6 months. Lucky. My hands are full when I leave the house (even on the third time out the door). My daughter has a "brudder", whom she adores. My husband has a son. I have a son. For how long? Will I be "lucky" a year from now? I can only dream that God has led us right here for this reason. That one day I will explain to our child, you came from another mamma's womb, but you have been in my heart forever.