Sometimes I forget....

...just how wounded she is.

That deep down, there is a lot of hurt.

A lot of anger.

A lot of confusion.

And I'm just not sure how to be the mom she needs me to be.

Because there are moments where it seems so completely overwhelming. And I feel so completely inadequate.

Like this morning, when a simple request is followed by a refusal from her. And thus, a consequence ensues.

Which is followed by a tantrum. But not just any tantrum.

A tantrum that reaches a whole 'nother level. Different than any tantrum I've ever experienced with other kids.

There is no calming her down. There is no reasoning.

There is only escalation, and screams from the depth of her soul. Followed by more escalation. And thrashing, and contortion, and eyes rolling back in her head.

It's as if for a little while, she's not even there. She's somewhere else.

And then exhaustion comes. And she curls herself up into a fetal position.  

So vulnerable.

So wounded.

And then, the chanting returns. The chants that consistently rang out when we first brought her home. The self-soothing primal chants that make my heart hurt for the life she led. And the scars that bear witness to that time.

And it's then, that I realize how much I love her. And how much I want to fix it, and make it all better. How I desperately wish she did not have to endure what she has in her short life. Where she was provided for...but not loved. Fed...but not nourished. Touched...but without affection. Abandoned. Without a soul in the world to call her own.

So I scoop her up, and love on her. And pray.

Which is really all I can do.

Because she needs a lot more than I, alone, can offer.

She's come so far in the past year and a half. And 99% of the time she looks like a happy, spirited, well-adjusted kid who has learned how to love and play and be silly. And I am thankful.

But that 1% of the time....well, I think that road will be a long one to walk.

Sometimes I forget.

Just because she has a family, doesn't mean she's fine. Just because she's been home for a while, doesn't mean the issues are all gone.

It's not magic. It's not quick in this case.

BUT....adoption is healing. And redemption. And a second chance.

And while some would have me believe that she will never be restored from those hurts from her past, I will choose to believe otherwise.

Because she is CHOSEN. And LOVED.

And SHE. IS. MINE.

And really, that's all that matters. 

And that, I can remember.