Gigi is adjusting beautifully to our home and family. She is growing and learning in amazing ways. This shocks me every time, and it shouldn’t. She has nine of the most dedicated, amazing teachers. She also has one little shadow who tolerates her existence. So, we’ll call that a win.
While Cam and Brady came into this home loving Gigi, the other kids needed time to get to know her. Ally is a natural born caregiver. She has simultaneously loved on Gigi while trying to nurture Cate, whose fear at somehow being replaced as the baby has overtaken her ability to, well, be human. While we are doing beautifully, overall, sometimes, this isn’t easy. We have our moments of insanity.
Ally was the first kid to ask when we would adopt again. Cam had joked about it, told me his plans to adopt, ribbed Joe about it. Ally came out and made the ask. She would like a little baby again. A boy would be great, but she does love the girls. Color, special needs, she doesn’t care. She loves babies, wherever they come from, however they get to us.
Ally, sweetheart, it’s your time now. I see you. I see you holding onto this family that you’ve just come to love with everything you’ve got. I get it. You’re me. You love to feel needed. And, you are. You always will be. But right now, this moment, it’s all about you. I reminded you of that when you asked me if we could do this one more time, for one more baby.
Not right now. Right now, even though you don’t want it to be, the focus is on you. You’re halfway through your 8th grade year. These next four years need to be about you finding your way. About figuring out how to find your place in this house, and out of it. I know you don’t understand that, but you will someday, and you’ll be glad that I’m giving you just the smallest push here. I know how hard this is for you. I know it.
By the time you’re officially an adult, you will have only lived with me for half your childhood. You had another mother for the first nine years, you’ll have had me for the last. I want you to, somehow, find a way to cross the bridge from me back to her again, to stand with both of us. So, I’m going to spend this time helping you build that bridge.
It’s your time to dance at Homecoming. It’s your time to learn to drive. It’s your time to have your heartbroken and to learn to heal. When it’s all done, we’re here, always, all of us, waiting for you.
–FullPlateMom, who is learning to let go, just a little bit.