As I ponder about my life as a mother, I never saw myself being where I am today. Never did I see myself walking into a marriage with a little boy that needed stability and a mother's love and affection. A little boy who was clueless of the world when it came to a mother's touch, laugh and true love. A love that would battle for him; a love that was placed into my heart the day on that I met him. He was a little boy who was just three years of age and shy of a week or two of turning four years old. Outside of my body, he grew, but he was the love that grew inside.
He was shy, scattered and defiant when it came to opening his heart up to anyone else. My sense was he was scared of being hurt or that I was being another fraudulent human. I was sort of an intruder in the life he was used to. He had his walls, and they were built thick. Concrete and not moving with the slightest knick. He saw me as someone else who may come and go and initially hurt him. Emotionally, he was drained. The attachment was hard to grasp between each other. Battles were fought, and battles were won with compromises. We constantly were learning and growing with each other, and that's not always the easiest thing to do. Especially when you have your two prior children begging for the same amount of attention as he was needing. Weighing it all out, phew, it was hard. Eventually, you learn and it becomes a learning process between a step-son and a new step-mother.
As time passed, he became older. I did, too. Our lives constantly changing, but all for the better. Even though battles that were about to approach me was not near as dense as I thought I was battling already. Not for me because I was a mother, but for him; the little boy who I grew outside of my body. I remembered him coming home every other weekend from a biological parent's house, a mother who was supposed to love and care for him. I saw distress. I saw somebody that in the conscience that God gave me, I had to walk where He was leading me to. I saw the danger and it struck my mind. My heart was crushed. My motherly instinct was to save him from any other kind of displeasure of life at such a young age. It was my duty now, not only as a step-mother, but a mother who stepped in; walking into a marriage with a little boy that needed stability, a mother's love and affection.
I put my fighter mode on and fought. My husband, his father, and I fought and fought for what was best. I knew not long after I had seen what was going on, what exactly was missing from this little boys' life. I needed to adopt him. The process was lengthy but was very obvious from the judge and our attorney that it was the best thing for this child. It wasn't an easy process. It was an emotional roller coaster. Prayers were cast high. I prayed for God to lead me down the path that He needed me to go down for this little boy. I prayed for acceptance from an elementary child that one day he'd feel it was okay to love again. I prayed he'd find comfort and safety in my arms. I lived on thin ice for a little while because I didn't want to push and push, I wanted it to come naturally. I cried a lot about it. I cried just because I didn't know how this was all going to play out, but I hoped for the best... and I prayed. Praying helped me seek comfort in all that I was doing because God told me I was doing the right thing and to keep pushing forward. As they say, "nothing is worth it if it's not worth fighting for." That's the most accurate quote that has ever been quoted.
I fought hard. I fought with my heart wide open. I was bruised and beaten emotionally because I wanted to make sure this was it... but I was so strong and determined! And, this was it. I did it! Adoption was final. We made it! I cried elephant tears when the judge signed the papers. I looked at my husband and hugged his neck. I walked out of the courtroom filled with teary eyes. Tears that cried with every drop of relief; it is now over. The struggle was over.
Spaces that were empty and confused, I prayed they'd be soon filled and filled with the correct answers. On the weekend's that my children were with their father, I took that time and made it our time together, just me and this little boy, that I had already called my son years ago; now he was officially mine. Needless to say, weekend after weekend he was with me permanently. He never left our house again. Questions didn't come out of his mouth too much. I think that he knew that this was all meant to be. We worked with each other. We became teammates in life. I became the one he leaned on when he was scared, the one whom he depended on when he needed something. The one after two years of mourning that affection to be accepted, a little boy who I tucked in one night to bed (as every night) finally leaned over and kissed my cheek and told me, "I love you, too" in reply to mine. If you have ever had your heart cry for happy tears, that was mine just then in that moment.
It's been almost three years since the adoption was final. Five years total of being together. It has been years of love, discipline, and strength as not just any mother, but his mother now. It's my duty to instill him with morals and respect. As he ages to become older, our relationship only becomes stronger. Nothing was easy, but yet nothing was hard not to get through... and we got through together as a family. I can't tell you all the times we all have laughed, cried, fought; but love always overcame. Always!
Today, he sits in third grade. I know him like the back of my hand. I know what he's thinking before it's even spoken. He's learned to love all over again. He's gained a new family that loves him unconditionally. Grandparents that love to see him thrive and cousins to play with. Family gatherings and family memories; they are all new and unforgettable. My family has welcomed him with open arms and I could not be more thankful for that. And even better, as his mother, I can sit back and say... I'm a proud mother of that little boy.
DNA doesn't matter. It's all the blood, sweat and tears that go along with parenting. It's those long aggravating nights of homework, school parties, playing in the yard, and cleaning messes. It's getting through sickness and health, love and loving him hard, encouraging and never giving up on him. It's the laughter and tears, playing Santa and the Easter Bunny. It's all that, and much more. That's what counts.
Feels like forever ago when I walked into the picture at three years of age. He turns nine in a couple of months. Wow. What a ride, but every bump and bruise were oh, so worth it. I've ventured off in life on a different obstacle than I ever thought I'd be in. But, in all honesty, I'd do it all over again... in a heartbeat, because he's another child that makes my heart beat stronger and keeps me going and doing what The Lord called me to do. A mother who's raising a little boy that needed stability and a mother's love and affection. Now, he not only has the whole package of a family for a backbone, but he's sealed the deal. I couldn't be more proud. With the sacrifices, I make daily as a mother, to not only two, but three now... they all keep me grounded. I thank God for the paths I never thought I'd venture down, but so glad that did. It's been a good ride so far, and I can't wait to continue to see my children grow and thrive to be who they're going to be. I'll be on the sidelines cheering them on and on graduation day, I'll probably be that mother who'll need a box of Kleenex.
And now, I am forever changed. Changed in the best way imaginable. Blessings come in the craziest but most purposefulways.
I found my purpose. I will always look back on all this and know... I did this! I made it. We made it. Thus far, here we are, and we love strong. We all made it; together. I let a little boy who grew on the outside of my body, rather than on the inside feel and know he's safe and sound. His heart is not wounded anymore. It is now mended.
Thank you, Lord!
- T
