Thanks to my friend, Amy, I was directed to the blog of a recent adoptive mom who is having a rough time since bringing her son home from Ethiopia. See her blog here. She writes honestly and beautifully about what a great many of us have experienced. More important, what many of us have experienced and were afraid/ashamed/scared to talk about.
When I read her posts it was as if I was reading my own thoughts from two years ago when we brought Lila home. After 6 years of infertility treatments and another 18 months of adoption paper chasing, it had finally happened. I had my daughter. So why was I crying all of the time? Why wasn't I enjoying the motherhood that I had so desperately wanted? I felt like I was this horrible monster...the guilt was almost as incapacitating as the anxiety. No sleep, couldn't eat, my heart would race as Kevin left for work, rushes of cold anxiety through my stomach & legs, wondering what the hell I was going to do with this very cute stranger all day long. I was shocked and apalled at the resentment I felt - what had I done to our very easy life? Before mommyhood, I could shower, pee, walk the dog, read a magazine, watch tv...do all of those things and more any old time I wanted. There were definitely days where I just didn't see how I could go on feeling this way. I never knew that anxiety could take such a physical toll.
Thankfully, I was desperate enough to post to an adoption group about what was going on. I was terrified and ashamed to say the least. There just hadn't been any posts about topics like PAD. But I was overwhelmed and thankful for the responses I received...I wasn't a horrible person, I wasn't alone, and it would get better. I read those responses many time every day, just to remind myself to be patient. That things would get better, just let it happen.
I am not a patient person. I wanted to know specifically when I would realize this utopia of motherhood that I had always visualized. When would I finally feel like Lila's Mommy. That was definitely a big part of it - not feeling like a "real" mom...and that was a surprise to me. I remember walking around with Lila and expecting someone to point at me and yell, "Imposter!"
I can't say when it happened. Certainly not all at once. But now Lila is my own. My daughter. The love of my life. I am her mom. I cannot imagine a day without her in it. Whatever process had to happen to reach this point was worth it.
When I first saw the pictues of my Elijah Pagume, along with pure joy & happiness, I definitely had feelings of anxiety as well. Will he attach? Will I attach? All of the unknowns scare the hell out of me. But this time around I'm comforted no only by the lessons of my past experience, but also by the amazing network of friends and bloggers I've found over the past two years. I'm most definitely not alone.