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Last weekend we had a visit with Aurora and it was textbook great. Moonbeam was thrilled by all the attention and there is no question that she adores her birth mom. Aurora was great - happy and engaged and interested in Moonbeam and in our family life. Apollo was great, taking pictures of all of us, making us snacks, sharing funny little stories about Moonbeam's shining personality.
There was only one problem. And that problem was me. Specifically, that problem was my own insecurity.
Apollo says I played it off totally legit, but inside I was kind of panicking. With every kiss, smile or hug that Moonbeam shared with Aurora, I felt left out. I felt myself shrinking in importance, I felt myself disengaging from what was happening. I felt isolated.
When Aurora left and Moonbeam waved bye bye while resting her head on my shoulder, I sighed so many sighs of relief. And then I slipped away from Moonbeam and Apollo so that I could quietly sob away my insecurities.
I'm embarrassed that this is how I felt/feel and that I'm struggling with this part of adoption.
I am afraid of losing my daughter, of not being good enough for her or for Aurora. I am afraid of being rejected by Moonbeam.
This all seems crazy to a part of me that is very rational. But it all makes perfect sense to a part of me that is frightened, afraid to let go, afraid to give in, afraid to trust.
I am unquestionably Moonbeam's mom. Honestly, I know this. Moonbeam knows this, Aurora knows this, the whole world knows this. The only one who seems to second guess this from time to time is me. I have never wanted to take away that title from Aurora, I've always wanted to share it, although I never really knew how. But here's the thing - it's not a question of Aurora retaining, gaining or losing her title as mom - this has nothing to do with me. But I NEED to own this title come hell or high water, because there's certainly no turning back now, I am a million percent this little girl's mom. I'm going to own it. I'm going to stand tall and rock this mom thing. I have no trouble rocking it when Aurora's not there, but as soon as she's around, I shrink into a version of myself that lacks confidence and seems weak. An insecure version of myself that frankly I don't like being a part of.
And I'm starting to realize that by being strong, this doesn't mean that I am a bully to Aurora. It means I'm in charge of myself and my family. It means I'm giving Moonbeam 100% of me 100% of the time, even when Aurora is around. Having Aurora around does not make me any less of a mom.
So I'm working on this, especially this Mother's Day weekend. I'm working on it by reaching out to Aurora and learning to trust her. Learn to trust that as much as I have her back, she has mine too. It's hard. It's hard because I'm afraid that Moonbeam will get hurt some day and I'm afraid I will too.
I will never forget the moment that Aurora and I held Moonbeam between us and held each other while we cried, the moment right before Aurora left the hospital and officially made me a mom. I am a mother because this strong, beautiful woman made it so. I have to trust that she is not trying to take away the very thing that she made entirely possible. So tomorrow, Mother's Day, she will come to our house and we will hug our daughter together and celebrate our very unique relationship and our very unique motherhood.
We have gained so much because of each other's commitment to our little girl and to each other.
