Tuesday, December 8, 2009

You Are Not My Real Mom, take two.

The following is as verbatim a record of our conversation
after dinner tonight as I could reconstruct.

I've been here before, and had several hours of
(now discontinued for financial reasons) family therapy
to help me navigate it better each time.
It begins with Sam.
_______________












I want my real mom.

I am your real mom.

No, I want my real mom.
I want her to be here now.

You mean your birth mother?

No, I mean, my real mom.
She's my everyday mom, not you.

It feels really hard to not have her here doesn't it?

Yes!

I don't want to hurt your feelings.

OK.

But, I want to live with her now.

[As the wrecking ball heaves itself out of the debris
which was my heart, and gathers momentum
for the next hit, I breathe and remember that this is
all about him.  I can do this. I can.]

That doesn't hurt my feelings, I say.
It makes me feel good inside that you are telling
Mommy what is in your heart.
I always want you to tell me what you need to.

You don't love me everyday.

Now that is crazy talk. Of course I do.
Why do you think that?

If you loved me everyday you wouldn't yell at me.

I wish I wouldn't yell.
And I wish you would listen
when I ask you the first three times.
And, I wish I wasn't so tired.
But you're right. Sometimes I do yell. 
I love you even when I am yelling.

[At this point Sam gets off the stool he is sitting on,
and climbs into my lap, putting his head underneath
my chin, and against my neck.]

I am looking up at the letter he gave me
that he wrote at school today.
It is taped to the wall, all alone looking regal.

The first letter he ever wrote:

I U. I L U Mom. Sam. (L=love he tells me).

Sam, I know that you have so many feelings in your heart
for her. I love her too.

You do?

Of course. Without her there would be no you,
and no you and me.
I wouldn't be a mommy, you wouldn't be you.

I love her more then I love you.

It may feel like that sometimes.
But the thing about love
is you can love more then one person at a time.

Like I love you and Marcel and her?

Yes.

Can you hold me in front of the Christmas tree now?
I need a cuddle.

Me too.

Marcel needs a cuddle too! he screams.

***
A little back story:
Last night Sam's birth mother texted me to ask
what Sam wanted for his birthday which is approaching.
I had told him she had asked.
I had asked him what he wanted me to suggest.
We brainstormed, and I wrote her back.

Then this evening two of my friends-both adopted
were over for dinner.
Sam knows their stories. 
He wanted to know why I wasn't adopted too.

***

If these conversations are this hard at four, imagine fourteen.

5 comments:

Joyful Mom said...

That sounds familiar. It can be so challenging to encourage them to express their love and longing for birth family while at the same time discouraging the building of an elaborate birth family fantasy. It can be such a confusing jumble of feelings for little hearts and souls. I'm always so relieved when they ask to close these conversations with a long cuddle.

liz said...

you are one strong woman my dear. i know i couldn't do any of it.

cd said...

Dear MamaC,

You have got to be the strongest and most purposeful parent I know, bar none. Your energy, grace and balance are simply amazing.

susan said...

Amazing. I'm a birth mom and I'm not that together. Kudos to you. Your boys are blessed.

Mama C said...

Thanks to all of you for these comments. Having feedback like this gives me the courage, the stomach to keep posting about moments like these.
Liz-I am sure you could! It all is easier some ways in "the fire."
CD-I can't imagine that! Thank you for the reach out though. Means a great deal.
Susan-You are together--I have read your blog!!!