A mirror - a new perspective

A mirror.  What does a colicky, screaming baby look like when I see the mirror? Channeling my CTI Balance class, I take that in. Balance is about playfully exploring different perspectives and finding the one with the most resonance and then creating a plan of action. Its putting a completely different spin on a current situation and then making it your reality. A true challenge with a screaming baby at your side but here we go.

My present world/perspective with my very demanding baby is hard, loud and untenable. I am a ball of nerves, full of self-doubt and loathing. I don’t sleep well, yell at my older son too much and pick fights with my husband. I want someone, anyone but me, to fix it. Make him stop.

Then I stop and look at KJ as he takes in himself in his play mirror. In the mirror, I see wonder and hunger. Wonder of discovery.  The joy in discovering tiny hands and the thrill of finding their way to an open mouth, and the hunger for more each time his little eyes take in himself and the room. Its all new and exciting and I can jump in and have a front row seat to his world of wonder. Allow myself to be overwhelmed by the world where everything is possible.  Where I can relish in his coos, gurgles and excitement as he finds his power and voice.  Where is colic is just a bump in the road. This is a happy place. This is where I want to be.

That said, I don’t have a clue how to get there. Its been a tough few days. KJ is colicky and even though he is nearly 4 mos old and he should be getting better, its getting worse. Today he screamed for 30 minutes straight just because he could. It didn’t help that my husband was out for a ride and my older son was jumping on me to read his new book. I about lost it and was a hair away from dropping them both off at a Safe Surrender site. Single life never looked so good.

Fortunately I remember that this is normal. New parenthood isn’t all love and kisses. Sometimes you gotta turn off the monitor and fold the laundry, clean the bottles or chug a glass of wine.

But back to the mirror, the perspective I choose to view my life. Sure its hard but if it were easy, would I appreciate it as much? It’s the challenges that build the character or so I am told. So with that, I commit to seeing past the colic, screaming, 2 am, 4 am and 5 am wake ups, and fully enjoying him for all that he is. And taking him to a pediatric gastroentologist to perhaps figure out his gas issues.

Assumed Blessings

A great post by Helen House about the emotions of adoption from waiting for your child to the first few awful months. Thankfully in our case, I knew from experience just how awful it was so when the social worker asked us at six weeks if we wanted to give him back, I was able to say "yes but I felt the same way with my first son who did come from my belly."

I was fortunate to have Helen House teach my coaching course at CTI this past weekend and be able to share our adoption experiences.

Sixteen Weeks

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I am ready to write again. We brought KJ home 16 weeks ago tomorrow. Sixteen weeks of interrupted sleep. Sixteen weeks to adjust from a family of 3 to a family of 4. Sixteen weeks of unnerving colicky screams that can even shock a seasoned doctor. Sixteen weeks watching a beautiful 8 pound baby blossom into a 15.6 pound bruiser that can lift his head, roll over, find his hands and coo the most adorable sounds you have ever heard.

Sixteen weeks to be told time and time again how great I look for having a newborn. Sixteen weeks to decide to just smile or tell the truth and then open myself to a litany of questions.

Sixteen weeks to begin to comprehend that as much as he looks like his brother, sixteen weeks to begin to accept that we will never see ourselves in his features. His blue eyes will not be mine and his long torso does not come from my husband. And while his hair might be red like his brother, HM, the similarity is skin deep.  Sixteen weeks to realize that none of this matters.

Sixteen weeks to begin to understand the depth and emotion that come with adoption. Sixteen weeks to know without question, he is our son, our rainbow, the baby we prayed, cried, and fought for.

Sixteen weeks to think about and finally a decision to start this blog with a goal to openly discuss  the journey of raising an adopted child along side a biological one with the hope that perhaps my sharing the mundane daily life of raising a very special baby may help others....or at the very least, provide some amusement.