I don’t know for certain if this is normal or not. Maybe someone out there who has been a first time mom, or better yet a first time adoptive mom, can tell me.
I am getting anxious about our ability to do this.
It’s not the adoption part that bothers me, it’s the whole “Oh my word we are going to be raising a daughter!” part that is blowing my mind.
We are just a few weeks away from meeting Ginny. She has reached the end of 34 weeks gestation now and Mel (Ginny’ s birth mother) is really hoping to hang on all the way to 36 or 37 weeks.
All our friends are having a grand time telling us just how hard this is going to be. They are getting a HUGE amount of entertainment trying to shake our confidence that we can do this. The more we assure them that it will all be alright, that we can handle it (with God’s help) the more horror stories and sleep deprivation tales of woe they seem to want to pepper us with.
It’s not malicious (as far as I can tell). It seems to just be a form of entertainment. All in good fun as it were.
Unfortunately the cumulative effect of all these joking comments about “hey, there’s a betting pool at the church about how quickly ya’ll are gonna crack up” and “hey, get sleep while you can” and “you guys are soooooo in for it” is just a bit nerve wracking.
Thanks ya’ll. That is just so constructive.
Maybe the very fact that we have refused to panic has made our friends up the ante in terms of trying to get us to look nervous. Maybe if we walked around voicing doubts about our fitness as parents more people would be giving us encouragement.
One of the peculiar things about adopting versus being pregnant is this: nothing the pregnant woman says will be held against her. She can be as neurotic and frightened as she wants. Everyone will write it off as “pregnancy jitters” and pat her on the hand and give her encouragement. But if an adoptive couple expresses doubts about their ability to handle having a baby, the immediate reaction is “oh, well maybe you should re-examine your decision and not do this after all”
So in an unconcious effort to make sure no-one second guesses our decision to adopt, Martin and I have perhaps appeared MORE confident than we actually are.
The fact of the matter is this
- We are scared of the responsibility of raising Ginny. We want to do this right. We want to raise a curious, questioning, creative, upstanding, contributing citizen who loves God and follows his will for her life.
- We are weary and sleep deprived already and Ginny isn’t even born yet. (of course that could have something to do with the Olympics……)
- We know our lives are about to change radically. There are days when we are ready for that and there are other days when we just aren’t. How can anyone be ready for this?
- Yes, we know that there are many activities that will fall by the wayside.
- Yes, we know we will be basket cases at work. Thank GOD for understanding bosses.
- Yes, I AM a selfish person who is going to learn the true meaning of selflessness when I am confronted at 3 a.m. with a sleeping hubby and a crying Ginny who needs me to sing yet another hundred rounds of “oh be careful little eyes…”
- We are terrified of the myriad factors we haven’t even thought of yet. all the things that can go wrong. All the emotional support that a regular child needs and then multiply it exponentially for an adopted child.
We know that we can not do this on our own. We know that only by giving ourselves up to God’s guidance can we even have a hope of adequately rearing Ginny. We do actually “get it” folks.
It is BECAUSE I “get it” that I am having an incredibly selfish feeling: I want to go back to being a kid myself. It’s actually the fault of the Olympics.
My mom used to make sure that life just stopped for us so that we could watch the Olympics. But now that I’m trying to juggle watching the coverage, and getting stuff done around the house and staying awake at work. ugh! It is dawning on me just how much of my intensisve Olympics experience was probably based on mother taking on lots of stuff and letting us kids sit in front of the TV and just soak in the culture. As I was confronted this morning with the reality of driving to work on low sleep I found myself compaining that I just don’t get to watch as much of the Olympics as I used to . Martin of course said “well it’s good practice for when we have Ginny”
Thanks for the reality check honey.
And my only coherent thought this morning as my overwhelmed brain tried to process the coming baby, and all the long to-do list between now and then was that for maybe a week……….I want to be a kid again. I want to swim and read all day in the summers. I want to let someone else to plan the meals. I want to play in sprinklers and climb trees without worry. I want to stop everything and watch the full magic of the Olympics when it happens. not on tape delay.
In short, I want my mommy.
which is supremely ironic, considering I will shortly BE the Mommy.
I guess we all have to grow up sometime.