Today is always a bitter sweet day for me.  I celebrated my first mother’s day in 2006 (while Noah was still in Ethiopia) three days after we received our referral.  I remember wanting to celebrate but no one outside of my immediate family recognized me as a mother yet.  But I was one and I knew it.  From the minute I saw his picture and then later Zoë’s, I was their mother.

Being and adoptive mom (and I am so clearly identified as an adoptive mom-I am white and my two kiddos are clearly not white a all) means…

I am often asked where my children are from

I am often asked who does my daughter’s hair

That I share my children with two amazingly courageous women in Ethiopia who are also mother’s even if they aren’t raising their children

That I have to be hyper aware of how others treat my children

That I have to work hard to learn about racism and teach my children (especially my black son) what it means in our society to be seen as black.

It also means…

That I kiss their booboo’s and owies’s.

That I kiss them goodnight each evening and kiss them good morning each morning (usually way to freaking early).

That I get to laugh at their silliness.

That I get to snuggle them when they are sad.

That I have to punish them when they misbehave (and hit their brother/sister).

That I get to watch then grow up.

That I get to watch them get their first base hit and slide into home.

That I get to help them learn to write their name and read.

That I get to watch them grow (right before my eyes).

That I get to take them on their first roller coaster.

That I get to watch in amazement as they learn something new.

That I get to help them navigate the world.

That I get to dream about their future.

That I can sacrifice so they can have the best education and opportunities possible.

That I get to raise them and love them.

That I never forget that I owe a debt of gratitude to their birthmother’s for the sacrifice they made.

That I always remind my children of the courage and selflessness of those two women in Ethiopia that made us a family.

That I remember to honor two women in Ethiopia who don’t get to do any of the things I get to except dream about their future.

That I hope I am doing right by the women who bestowed this gift on me.

That I aspire to raise their children in a way that honors them.

That I ensure our children understand.

This is what it means to be an adoptive mom.  I wouldn’t change it for the world.

Happy Mother’s Day to my children’s  birthmother’s (an all other birthmother’s) and all mothers.  Mothering is the hardest thing we do.