Real Mom

A while ago I tried to capture in words what Mason means to me. Unfortunately, I can't seem to get my hands on that particular piece of writing and it's really bothering me that I can't remember where it is saved, but as soon as I find it I will post it here.

Point being, I had been asked by someone why we chose adoption and while I had so many answers that came quickly to my mind, putting those answers into a coherent sentence or sentences that a stranger would understand or stick around long enough to hear was more than challenging. The truth is, while I am thrilled to talk about adoption any day, the older Mason gets the further it travels from the front of my thoughts. At one time I was consumed by all things that were adoption, I am now only reminded that my child is "not really mine" when someone takes the time and energy to point that out. Thank you, really.

What a lot of people don't understand, and it's not their fault, is that adoption is not a state of being, it's a process. Mason was adopted. He is my son, my world. I am his real Mom and he is my real son. (Hence the name of my blog, in case you hadn't put that one together yet...) I don't mind at all when curious folks ask polite questions -- I get that our family is visually interesting to some people. What I mind is when nosey people ask stupid questions, make assumptions, and think that because their neighbor adopted 13.5 children 35 years ago and not one of them "turned out right" that they are now the resident expert on adopted children's mental health issues. Please, spare me...

What David and I have learned in a very real sense over the past three years (OMG I cannot believe that Mason will be three years old in two months!!) is that biology is really just a technicality when it comes to children and parents. Mason "is really mine" because of our bond and relationship, not our DNA. He loves it when I tickle him and when we hide under the blankets on the bed. My heart melts when he smiles at me and I can't wait to see what he chooses to do with his life. I often joke that Mason could not be more David's son if David had birthed him! They are carbon copies of each other from the way they talk to the way they take their socks off. (Much to my dismay sometimes!) Will Mason ask questions as he gets older? Sure he will, I hope he does. And when that time comes his Daddy and I will do our best to explain the journey that brought us all together.

I have found that even my best attempts at putting into words the love my mind cannot explain are unsuccessful. How do you verbalize the feelings that you have for your children?

Mason is growing every day. We carry on conversations now; this evening we talked about horses all the way to Nana's house. He is funny, loving, energetic, and all boy. I hope that as he grows into a young man I won't forget these days of sticky lollipop hands and "gross" kisses - I already feel like the days of babies and bottles are growing hazy. The milestones come quickly and the days even quicker. I thank God every day for the gift of my child and privilege of being his Mom. There is nothing about me that is worthy of the blessings he bestows upon me and I am grateful.

So here's to my little guy...I love you more than words can express. You are my world and my heart.

Love,

Your Real Mom