sticks and stones

a few days ago, someone made a comment on my “a part apart” post that really got me thinking.  for those of you who may have missed the comment, i’d like to re-post it here (note to “A”–I hope you don’t mind!):

“I feel the way you do…my (adopted) baby is 6 months old, and I don’t feel like he’s a part of my body.  I was just feeling guilty about that last night.  And I still have trouble saying “my son”, or “mommy”, or things like that in front of other people…like maybe they’ll think that’s not accurate??  I don’t know why I feel this way–it surprised me.  I am adopted myself, and I never felt like I WASN’T my (adoptive) parents’ child…not once.  I think it’s just a hard switch to make after waiting so long, wanting so much, and hurting so badly.”

I responded to her via e-mail with this:

“thank you.  your perspective (especially as an adult adoptee) is wonderful for me to hear and I think your last sentence is absolutely right.  It IS hard to flip that switch after so many years of feeling pain associated with words like babies and mommies and such.  I still feel that pain associated with words like pregnancy and breastfeeding because even though I have a son now, I never got to (and likely never will) experience those things, so there’s still jealousy hanging heavy on those words.  I find I have to practice saying “my son” and “mommy” at home a lot when I’m talking to my son or to my husband and while that helps to make it feel less odd in my ears, it still sometimes doesn’t feel quite TRUE yet.*”

I’ve been thinking about it ever since and still find it interesting that while words like “baby” and “family” don’t bother me at all now, I still have this teeny, interior cringe whenever I hear other words (“womb” is one that for some reason really gives me the heebie-jeebies).  how interesting that becoming a mom through adoption can make some of those deep emotional wounds fade to just a dull ache or even disappear (most of the time) but other wounds are still raw.  will they ever heal?

*I’d like to add that in some ways this reminds me of when I first got married after dating J for 6 years.  It felt weird to say “my husband” for the first little while, but now (especially after 10 years of marriage (as of this Thursday!)) it feels as ordinary as water.  I figure saying “my son” will lose its edge soon too.