Confessions of an Adoptive Mom- Part 2

These are my confessions (every time I write this, I think of the Usher song)

*Note from me: please know that these are just the honest thoughts that have crossed my mind, and me being honest about them.  They are not meant to offend or upset anyone, they are simply honest thoughts.

Confession #4: I have an obsession with keeping all of E’s clothes/blanket’s/sheet’s/towel’s whatever clean and keeping a steady stock of diapers, formula.  I also have an obsession of keeping her next size of clothing ready for wear (currently she wears 3-6 months, but her 6-9 and 12 month piles are ready for use, and we have all the nipples needed for her next level of bottles).  My obsession with this isn’t just because I’m a planner.  It’s because I decided in my head that once she was home with us, she was mine.  Obviously, the law didn’t agree with me, so I needed to be able to throw all of her stuff together (and then some) in case we needed to use “plan B” and get out-of-town for a while…  Even though her adoption is now finalized, I still have this obsession.  I even told A that now that we have her birth certificate and applied for her social security number, we need to get her passport.

Confession #5: I sometimes fantasize that in the future, medical technology will be so awesome that I WILL be able to share DNA with my daughter.

Confession #6: I don’t feel there is enough support available for adoptive parents.  I feel like there is so much emphasis put on birth parents who make an adoption plan (as there should be) but that adoptive parents presumably have their sh*t together, so they should just be able to “handle” it.  I feel like we’re a society that is so concerned about how a birth parent is feeling, we often look past the adoptive parents.  (Flame me if you’d like) but adoptive parents need support to.

Confession #7: I’m afraid terrified (like lose sleep over) E will grow up and tell me that she no longer wants me to be her mom, she wants to find Sam* and have her be her mom.  (Please don’t confuse this with me being afraid she’ll want to find Sam* one day and meet her/have a relationship.)

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