My son is very smart. I don't mean like "oh, yea, he's so cute and such a smart boy," I mean he is REALLY smart.
Somehow he figured out what he wasn't supposed to figure out just yet......
My son Jacob, along with my daughter are both adopted. For those of you who know me, I have kept that from them since the time I adopted my daughter and then my son, becuase quite frankly it is a person preference to tell them.
I've had people tell me, you should tell them right away. I've had people tell me, don't tell them at all. And I've had people say, you'll know when its the right time.
My daughter found out in the summer time, thanks to someone we know. She inadventaly told Leighton, just like you were adopted kind of convo. And I came back to her house that night to find out she told her, stating that she thought my daughter knew. Part of me wanted to punch her in the face, part of me wanted to rip her head off, part of wanted to scream at her, but the logical side of me told her it was fine. But really, I've thought about it, and I really didn't want her to find out this way. But Leighton and I spoke about it, and she was as fine as she could be about it, but cried a little when I told her. She asked the usual questions, why? how was I adopted? how come my birth mother couldn't care for me, and so on.
My son, well. He just said to me the other day while we were driving to Auntie Bobbi's and Uncle Keiths house, "I'm adopted right Momma?" I just continued the conversation, like I hadn't even skipped a beat. And he asked all of his questions, and carried on like nothing was different. Inside my heart was pounding, becuase the worst part is that I don't have a lot of answers about neither one of my children's birth mothers. Honestly, I don't have a lot of respect for either one of them, one was an alcoholic, and the other a drug abuser. Maybe because I had to deal with the medical issues for my kids becuase of them, maybe because I had to deal with knowing nothing of their medical history, and every time we go to the doctors, I have no answers for the doctor when they ask, "was your pregnancy normal? Was there any complications?" I wanna yell and scream, NO I DIDN'T BEAR THESE CHILDREN! Stop asking me these questions, but I don't. I just smile and say, sorry they are adopted, and I don't know. And the pain and grief of never being pregnant, or never going through labour or never having a child "look like me" comes flooding back with such a strong pain that I cannot bear it and some tears sneak out past my tough exterior.
The three worst words I can say about my kids history, I DON'T KNOW.
It is sometimes the worst feeling, and I am very hard on myself about it, but how could I possibly know anything about their history when neither one of their mothers shared much with the women and men who would be taking their children away at birth?
Well, the cat is out the bag as they say........
Having said that though, he seems to be quite understanding and I've told him he can ask any questions he likes, and I would do my very best to answer it. He has since asked some more questions, but nothing that has made me hyperventilate again.
He seems to be settling in well with his new school, he even earned a belt on his third day. A belt that he proudly brought home to me and asked if he could wear his jeans with them. I just about fell over. He NEVER wears jeans, doesn't like the feeling of them on his legs, but oncehe got that belt it was all over for him. Back to Jean mania we go!
All in all, it was a very stressful week, but I was happy to say that I know full well that days and weeks like that are few and far between and we have to have valleys to go with the hills, and we had hit a very rough valley last week. For now we are on the top of the peak checking things out, and we will move on. Soon enough it'l' be Saturday and he'll be on the ice at hockey with his favortie people and coaches, and he'll be smiling and happy once more.
For me, tomorrow I go to battle with their father. Nothing pleasant can come out of it when it involves him, unfortunately.
Momma Bear
Somehow he figured out what he wasn't supposed to figure out just yet......
My son Jacob, along with my daughter are both adopted. For those of you who know me, I have kept that from them since the time I adopted my daughter and then my son, becuase quite frankly it is a person preference to tell them.
I've had people tell me, you should tell them right away. I've had people tell me, don't tell them at all. And I've had people say, you'll know when its the right time.
My daughter found out in the summer time, thanks to someone we know. She inadventaly told Leighton, just like you were adopted kind of convo. And I came back to her house that night to find out she told her, stating that she thought my daughter knew. Part of me wanted to punch her in the face, part of me wanted to rip her head off, part of wanted to scream at her, but the logical side of me told her it was fine. But really, I've thought about it, and I really didn't want her to find out this way. But Leighton and I spoke about it, and she was as fine as she could be about it, but cried a little when I told her. She asked the usual questions, why? how was I adopted? how come my birth mother couldn't care for me, and so on.
My son, well. He just said to me the other day while we were driving to Auntie Bobbi's and Uncle Keiths house, "I'm adopted right Momma?" I just continued the conversation, like I hadn't even skipped a beat. And he asked all of his questions, and carried on like nothing was different. Inside my heart was pounding, becuase the worst part is that I don't have a lot of answers about neither one of my children's birth mothers. Honestly, I don't have a lot of respect for either one of them, one was an alcoholic, and the other a drug abuser. Maybe because I had to deal with the medical issues for my kids becuase of them, maybe because I had to deal with knowing nothing of their medical history, and every time we go to the doctors, I have no answers for the doctor when they ask, "was your pregnancy normal? Was there any complications?" I wanna yell and scream, NO I DIDN'T BEAR THESE CHILDREN! Stop asking me these questions, but I don't. I just smile and say, sorry they are adopted, and I don't know. And the pain and grief of never being pregnant, or never going through labour or never having a child "look like me" comes flooding back with such a strong pain that I cannot bear it and some tears sneak out past my tough exterior.
The three worst words I can say about my kids history, I DON'T KNOW.
It is sometimes the worst feeling, and I am very hard on myself about it, but how could I possibly know anything about their history when neither one of their mothers shared much with the women and men who would be taking their children away at birth?
Well, the cat is out the bag as they say........
Having said that though, he seems to be quite understanding and I've told him he can ask any questions he likes, and I would do my very best to answer it. He has since asked some more questions, but nothing that has made me hyperventilate again.
He seems to be settling in well with his new school, he even earned a belt on his third day. A belt that he proudly brought home to me and asked if he could wear his jeans with them. I just about fell over. He NEVER wears jeans, doesn't like the feeling of them on his legs, but oncehe got that belt it was all over for him. Back to Jean mania we go!
All in all, it was a very stressful week, but I was happy to say that I know full well that days and weeks like that are few and far between and we have to have valleys to go with the hills, and we had hit a very rough valley last week. For now we are on the top of the peak checking things out, and we will move on. Soon enough it'l' be Saturday and he'll be on the ice at hockey with his favortie people and coaches, and he'll be smiling and happy once more.
For me, tomorrow I go to battle with their father. Nothing pleasant can come out of it when it involves him, unfortunately.
Momma Bear
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