My parenting journey to date can be described in one word…judged.
My partner, Jamie, and I had been together for 8 years and finally agreed to take the plunge into parenthood. Due to a number of reasons, we chose adoption and due to our finances, we chose foster care adoption. So after MAPP classes, home development workers and lots of paperwork, we were certified as we simultaneously accepted the placement of a 10 day old little boy. He was tiny, red-headed, beautiful, and suffering withdrawals from prenatal exposures. We were told to go to the NICU to be “trained.” My mom came in town to help and she went with me to the hospital. The “training” was the infant CPR and SIDS videos that new mothers watch before discharge. We held him and fed him and left the hospital. We headed to Wal-Mart later that day to meet the social worker and get his clothing allowance.
The social worker walked in and said, “Don’t get too attached. He is going to a family placement.”
Sucker punched, I went home in a daze. My mom started offering suggestions about not taking him, letting him go to another family, and the dangers of falling in love and then losing him. It was too late. I loved that boy the minute I held him and ultimately, Jamie and I decided to keep going.
All three of us went to the hospital the following afternoon to sign the discharge papers and bring him home. This is when we learned that he had some heart problems and would come home on heart failure watch and seizure watch. This is when we received a chart to score his withdrawals so we would know if/when to rush him back to the ER. It was scary and intimidating and I was in love. My mom was not; however, and started again with the” letting him go” talks. At one point, she let me know that I had “no idea how to care for a healthy baby much less a sick one” and “what would I do if he quit breathing.”
I had been judged….. and I was found lacking.
We went home. My mom left shortly after. We started parenting. And now 18 months later, we are waiting on a court date to finalize our little boy’s adoption. He has brought us so much joy.
And weaved into his first year and a half has been many more lessons about judgment.
*He laid his head on my chest in those first days home, listened to my heart beat and noticed my unfamiliar smell. He judged me…I was deemed NOT his biological mother. We started our journey toward attachment.
*He was carried constantly from day one (due to advice from the NICU nurses and due to attachment). I rarely put him down and affectionately called him my kangaroo baby. I was judged…I was found spoiling my child.
*We have co-slept in various forms from the beginning and still do today. I have been judged…I have been found ignorant by many.
*We spent A LOT of time in doctor’s offices. I filled out the paperwork. I placed my name in the mother’s information section and I wrote in his medical history in the notes section. I was softly asked by multiple nurses what drugs he was exposed to in utero. I answered the whispered questions and watched them avoid eye contact. I was judged…I was found a drug addict, an unfit mother, and I harmed my baby.
The list goes on and on.
I have learned that parents are quickly judged in this world. Parenthood is hard. The learning curve is steep and swift and by the time we get the hang of it, the short people change the game. We have our own insecurities. Our kids have unique personalities. And standing up under the weight of the added judgments can be so H.A.R.D.
I know that this journey has changed me. I am quicker to smile at the mom with the screaming toddler in the grocery store. I am slower to knock someone else’s ideas and strategies that work in their families. I am learning to breathe and relax and remember that this is not a race or a competition. I am learning it is easier to navigate this journey when we reach out and take each other’s hand and let the judgments fall by the side.
Jennifer
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