My dearest ones, my precious love, I know you aren’t babies any longer and haven’t been for a while now, but I will always see you as the little one that was bundled into my arms the day we met, the toddler who hid behind her caseworker, the bossy four-year-old that stole my heart in an instant. You are everything. Every chapter you’ve experienced so far is reflected in your identity as you grow and change.
Please forgive the love fest. It’s just that it’s not every day one gets to co-exist with walking miracles. You’re alive. You’re here and fighting with me for five more minutes of video games when you could have died before I ever knew you. I get to have these ridiculous moments where I’m pulling out my hair with frustration, but I am also standing in awe that I am here for them.
I know it is hard. Being a person is difficult. Being a growing person in a world determined to break you down a piece at a time is exhausting. There are so many influences telling you who you should be and why you should be that way. I suppose I’m one of those influences. I hope that my words hold weight for you. I hope you understand that I want the very best possible things for you even when you can’t see it.
I wish I could take all the bad parts of growing up away for you. Yet, I feel that I would do a disservice to you if I did. You’d never learn how to be a person if I never let you grow. If I solved all of your problems, your brain would never learn the process. So when I’m old and you’re grown and have your own life away from mine you can solve your problems without another person telling you how. But I am here to help if you need me.
I want you to know that I see you. I see how hard you try every day to be a good person. I see how much work you put into your school work, your friendships, your relationships with family. I hear the questions you ask that hide deeper questions you’re trying to solve. I hear you asking questions you don’t even realize you’re asking.
I want you to know you can always ask. Even if I have to search for answers, even if I don’t know, you can ask me. That’s part of what I’m here for. I also want you to know that it’s okay if you are angry that I’m the person here to talk to you. I know you wonder about your birth family. I know you feel shame and anger because of a past you don’t even remember but have written on your bones.
I wish I could undo the pain that brought you to me. Not because I’d ever wish you weren’t mine but because if I could spare you an ounce of pain I would do it. I’m caught in the conundrum of wishing you had never needed me and being terribly grateful that I have you.
I love you so much it hurts sometimes. My body feels so overwhelmed by the love I have for you it makes me tear up because I’m so full of affection. You ask me, sometimes, why I look sad, or serious, or happy. It is, most often, because of you. I’m sad because you are sad, or struggling, or fighting. I’m serious because I’m trying to solve a problem in my head or figure out what to serve for the next meal. I’m happy because despite every problem, I get to be there with you.
You are part of my beautiful mosaic family: little shards of broken pieces that have gotten smushed together to somehow make this picture of us. I don’t understand it. Some days I resent it. I resent that I am responsible for everything that happens even if I’m really not. I carry the blame for every bad thing that happens. I am not the mom you want, but I am the mom that will forever carry the blame for how you were wronged. And I get it, I do. You can’t see the person you’re the most confused about.
I wish I could do all of this better. I thought I was so prepared before we met. It turns out most of us are just trying to figure things out as we go along. Winging it seems to be the default status of most of our days. Just barely hanging on seems to be the level of control I have of keeping things in order.
I’m not going to always be what you want. I hope that I can always be what you need. I hope that if I’m not, you can tell me so I can help. As you grow and change into these people I get tiny glimpses of when you turn your head just right, it makes my breath catch. You are extraordinary. I cannot wait to see what you are becoming. I also wish I could slow time down so I’d get to have you little for just a while longer. Run the clock back to those precious moments where you were tiny, and happy, and I could keep you safe by scooping you up in my arms.
I hope you always know I’m here for you. I see you. I see the person you wish to be and the person you are. I see who you were and I see who you think you are. I love you. You are so precious to me. When things are too much I hope you carry that in your heart to keep it afloat.
I don’t care who you eventually love, what clothes you wear, what you grow up to be, I just want you to know you’re my little ones and you are so, so loved.
