Friday, October 12, 2012

Dear Wils

Dear Wils,

When I started this blog, I was thinking that I would chronicle our adoption journey.  And I've done that to some extent.  But part of our adoption journey is my journey into motherhood, which you might find interesting one day.  (I figure you'll be totally embarrassed by this as a teenager, but someday, if you get to be a daddy, maybe this will mean something to you!)

You see, you freaked me out.  Hardcore.  I've expressed it a little bit before, but before I actually met you, and after we were matched with your birth parents, my logic and my emotions parted ways.

Intellectually, I knew that I wouldn't be a perfect mom, but there was no reason I couldn't be a good mom, or even a great mom.  I knew that from a needs standpoint (food, water, shelter, love), your needs would be well met.  I knew you would change my life completely.

But then the emotions kicked in.  I put all kinds of pressure on myself.  I knew that there would be times when I would break your heart, and you would break mine (it hasn't happened yet, of course...knock on wood).  I knew that I would love you eclipsingly, so if something happened with the adoption or to you, it would break me.  I never worried about dropping you on your head, but about messing up as a mom in so many other ways.

I could go on and on, but even I think it's kinda boring.

When I met you everything changed.  I settled down and realized that you were the reason my life had followed this path.  You were the reason my parents adopted me, why I went to MidAmerica Nazarene University instead of Seattle Pacific University, why I've never moved away from my hometown even though I've experienced awful personal tragedy there, why I met and fell in love with your daddy.  All of that happened so that I could be here when it was time to start the adoption process, which led me to you.  I believe that God had you in mind for me all along.  That's a lot of pressure to put on your little shoulders, I know, but I don't expect you to feel the same way.  Maybe you'll get it if/when you're a daddy.

I do know that now, I freaking love being your mom.  Yeah, it's not easy.  I mean, you're not exactly the perfect baby any more than I'm the perfect mom.  But who wants a robot for a kid?

Here are some of my favorite things:

I love that no matter what's going on, or who's got you, when I enter the room you wriggle around until you can make eye contact.  Maybe you do that with everyone, but it feels pretty special to me.  And it's the cutest thing ever.

I love how you sprouted teeth early.  I used to think your toothless grin was the cutest thing ever, but then your first tooth broke through on 9/13/2012 and your second on 9/23/2012.  And now I think your toothful grin is the cutest thing ever.

I love how you wake up happy in the morning.  I go into your room to get you up and about, and you do a little pushup so that you can smile at me very sleepily.  And it's the cutest thing ever.

I love how you talk to your feet, just so that you can hear the sound of your own voice.  It's the cutest thing ever.

I love how you like to shout and smile at the same time in your johnny jumper.  It's the cutest thing ever.

I frequently take you, some toys and your lunch into my bed for some special cuddle time.  I love how you smile so big it takes up your whole face.  Then, when I climb into bed beside you, you reach for my face and wriggle your little body around until you're plastered right up against me.  Then you're content to take your bottle or play with your toys.

And, you guessed it, it's the cutest thing ever.

I love you more than I can express, baby boy!
--Mommy