We met 6 weeks ago tomorrow.
Wow.
Time has flown and time is creeping. It feels like we just got him and like we've had him forever. It feels like we know him so well and like he's a complete mystery. It feels like he's made amazing progress and like he'll never make progress at this rate. It feels like we got the easiest kid and like we're having the hardest time. It feels like he loves us and like he could easily love total strangers. It feels like I love him but I am painfully aware of my preference for Henry. These are very normal feelings for new adoptive parents but they are SO abnormal to me that I feel like I don't even recognize myself. It's a lot of feeling. A lot. And I have all day with James to be aware of all of these feelings and how they don't add up.
I haven't blogged since we got back because I'm just now beginning to express any sort of coherent thought about what has happened.
The weeks before we traveled were unbelievably difficult for me. The stress of being constantly on edge waiting for this or that vital next step finally caught up with me. I was sick for most of October and November. I had thrush for almost an entire month. (very gross, by the way) My immune system was wrecked.
God moved mountains for our trip to happen the way it did. I was awed by the specific prayers He answered and the things that He worked out SO much better than I was even smart enough to want! I praised God all the way to Ch*na! And when the terror of adopting someone we'd never met, who we knew almost nothing about struck, I clung to and followed Him with shaking hands and wobbly footsteps. Whenever I became aware of an unpleasant thought toward James, I immediately prayed for tenderness and love. And He gave it. Every time I asked.
And then we got home.
And there was jet lag mixed with euphoria. Our friends were amazing. We had meals and phone calls and visits and prayers. Things were great. They were so great that I let go of Him and decided to hold my own hands.
We had some good times!
And then I woke up Christmas Eve and something was different. I was irritated. I felt like our guest had overstayed his welcome and was intruding on our intimate family holiday. I knew it was irrational. I knew there was no point dwelling on that feeling. But I couldn't shake it.
Christmas Day was no better. James was overwhelmed. I was irritated. He didn't want any of his presents, only Henry's. I was irritated. He followed me around. I was irritated. He made a mess. I was irritated. You get it. No tenderness. Only irritation.
Adoptive moms often suffer from a sort of post-partum depression. A lot of friends in my support groups have struggled with these feelings. I assumed that's what I was experiencing.
It got worse. I became angry. I felt like I was a different person. James was his usual gentle, adorable self. NONE of what I was feeling was his fault. I recognized that but it made no difference. I was 100% acting when I was around him. And I wasn't acting well. I displayed the very opposite of ALL the fruits of the Spirit. I told myself this was "depression" and that I couldn't control it. Many times it occurred to me to pray. But talk about quenching the Holy Spirit. I had aimed a fire hose at Him and told myself that someone else was holding it. I knew there was only 1 help for me and I wanted my old (new!!) self back, but I refused to ask Him. And I love the Lord. I really really do. I want to please Him and I WANT to love and bless James. And I didn't want to hold onto these awful feelings but I didn't want to let them go, either.
A couple weeks ago, I started realizing that the thoughts in my head were lies. The thoughts telling me that I can't control this, that no one can control this and that I will probably never really love James and that I am a horrible person and should have been found out long before I was allowed to adopt and that James would have been better off as an orphan.
Where did those thoughts come from? How could I ever have allowed them to linger? This is what happens when I hold my own hand.
I could feel the hardening in my heart. And it terrified me. I begged God not to allow it. And He answered. I laid hands on James and prayed for forgiveness. From him, from Him.
It is still a HUGE struggle but I know who's going to win it. Those lies are pretty convincing. And the liar is good at condemning. So, if you see me struggling and you want to help, please don't comment on how cute James is. He is. I know it. But what I feel is "How can you not love someone that cute?". Please tell me to be patient. With myself. Please remind me that I had 9 months with Henry before I met him and I was plenty irritated with him for lots of that time. But love grew there. And love will grow for James. Please don't condemn me for being honest. If I was ever proud of myself for adopting, the Lord has stripped it from me in a most painful way. And I cannot help but be honest about it...as almost anyone who has seen me in the last couple of weeks knows. Please forgive me if I have done nothing but complain to you. Know that I see it. I am working on it. He is working on me.
And most of all, please know that despite all of my struggles, adoption is beautiful. James is wonderful. I would do it again in a heartbeat.
God gave me the sweetest encouragement tonight as I was putting the boys to bed. James, who, 6 weeks ago had oral muscles so week he couldn't hold liquid in his mouth if he was upright, puckered his lips for a kiss. And I felt a huge boulder fall off that hard spot on my heart. Thank you Jesus.
