As I continue to write this blog I will be using adoption language throughout the posts. I will often refer to myself as an “adoptive parent”. I may on occasion say “when my son was adopted”. But in truth each day I wake up I am just a parent and a mother first and Connor is my son. The fact the he was adopted does not play into our day at all. I will give you an example by telling you about our day.
Connor started his first full week in Daycare this week. I dropped him off this morning around 8:00AM. He cried when I left the daycare classroom as I know he would and as he has each morning. I wish it would get easier for me, but it doesn’t. I sat in my car for a minute or two and thought about peeking in on him, but then told myself he was ok, and left.
About an hour later I got a call from the daycare that Connor had vomited. A very contagious virus was going around. I immediately left to pick him up. I cried all the way there. Connor had this same virus last week and I felt terrible that he had gotten it again after being in Daycare only three days. I am starting a full time job next week. How can I return when my baby is getting sick after only three days of daycare?
When I picked him up at Daycare he immediately put his arms up for me to pick him up. We went home and I put him down for a nap. He woke up two hours later because he had vomited again in his crib. He started crying, was holding onto me, putting his fingers through my hair as he does when he is stressed or not feeling well. I cleaned him up. I brought him to my husband’s and my bed, where he vomited again. This time on me. I got him undressed and he sat with my husband. (Who by the way, is home for six weeks because he had foot surgery this past Wednesday.)
After I changed I took him for a quick bath. As I filled the tub and he was standing there naked, I felt something warm on my leg. At first I thought he had puked again, but no, he had peed on my leg instead. I only could laugh.
The rest of the afternoon Connor and I spent on the reclining chair watching Dora, The Muppet Movie, and The Wiggles. Everything else I had planned would have to wait. He got sick a few more times. I changed his PJ’s and then I would change my clothes. I got in an argument with my husband because he insisted that his mother should come and help me with Connor. But I didn’t need help. Connor just needed me while he was not feeling well and it would be me who would be there for him. I understood that my husband was anxious about Connor being sick and was not able to help me since he could barely walk. He thought he could be helpful by asking his mother to come. He was worried I would burn out. Maybe I will. All I know is it will be me who will take care of my baby. No one else. (His mother is coming to our house in the morning since I have to take our 12 week old puppy to the vet.)
This evening I was getting a plate of pizza ready to bring to my husband, when Connor crawled off the couch where he was watching his shows and sipping Ginger Ale. He walked over to me with his arms in the air. I got down to his level and picked him up. He put his head on my shoulders and I brought him up to bed, where I kissed him and told him I love him. He is still sleeping peacefully.
The point of my story is that when you are needed by your child, you are his parent, mother, or father. You never feel more like a parent as in those moments. You are also no different than any other parent with their children. You will be there for them, and put them before yourself. This is your child and you will care for and love him or her, and that is all that matters.