How My Adopted Son Is Learning the Meaning of ‘Mother’

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He’s just four years old, and this year marked his very first Mother’s Day.

Like many mothers, I’ve often found myself questioning whether I’m enough. I’ve felt the weight of self-doubt, worrying that I don’t quite measure up and that I frequently fall short. Guilt has been a constant companion as I juggle work and family, often leaving me feeling like I’m failing in the motherhood department. I’ve even convinced myself that my culinary skills would never make it into a cookbook. In fact, my kids might just call their favorite dish “Ramen Surprise,” which is best enjoyed by those under 18 or any adults who have lost their taste buds. Bedtime stories sometimes get the “CliffNotes” treatment, especially if the thought of reading “Green Eggs and Ham” more than twice a week starts to send me into a spiral. I’ve found myself unintentionally reciting those lines to my patients in a singsong voice at work, which can lead to some interesting looks.

There are plenty of days when I realize I haven’t even unpacked my children’s backpacks for several days, which means I’m just winging it. When I say “winging it,” I mean I’m relying on my kids to remind me about field trips or crazy hair day. More often than not, this doesn’t go as planned, except on those crazy hair days when they head off to school looking like they just rolled out of bed. I’ve been grateful for school on rainy days, too—yes, I’ve carried those feelings of inadequacy and have worried that I’m falling short. Scrolling through social media often leaves me comparing myself to others, and with six kids, it can feel impossible to keep up.

This year, however, was Israel’s first Mother’s Day, and the significance of this milestone struck me deeply. Lately, I’ve found that I don’t feel so inadequate anymore. Israel is teaching me what being a mother truly means. Despite being labeled as having a disability at birth, God crafted him with a heart that beats just for me. I’m his whole world, and from the moment I wake him or enter a room, his eyes sparkle, and his arms reach out to me. Through him, I am beginning to understand how we define motherhood.

Israel has shown me that being a mom isn’t about perfection or reaching a certain standard. It’s a beautiful journey because, for him, the concept of a mother is new. What does a mother represent to a child who has never known one? What does she smell like? How does she comfort?

For four years, Israel was alone in a crib, left cold and without warmth, a kiss for a scraped knee, or a comforting hug. He learned to be quiet and stoic, expecting little in terms of love or care. Instead of the sweet scent of home-baked cookies or the warmth of a mother’s embrace, he was surrounded by antiseptic and the lingering smell of an orphanage. He lived in fear and learned that affection was conditional.

In his eyes, I demonstrate that being a mother is remarkably simple. I kiss his scrapes, wipe his tears, and keep him warm. I am the protective figure who watches over him and offers encouragement when challenges arise. I embody the comforting scents of laundry soap and fresh air. I possess a mother’s heart that overflows with love for this little boy, given freely without any expectation of reward. A mother loves her child for who they are, not for who they might become. It’s really not that complicated.

Just because you’ve never had a mother doesn’t mean you can’t learn to recognize what one is. Every night, I tuck Israel into bed, and our routine has become a comforting ritual. He pats his pillow and asks, “Mommy, night, night?” I lay beside him, our faces close together, and he always asks, “Israel’s mommy?” His tiny fingers brush against my cheeks, and his curious eyes seem to search my soul for reassurance. I embrace him tightly, inhaling the sweet scent of baby soap and his warm breath. I respond, “Yes, my darling boy, I’m Israel’s mommy, and I am enough.”

This heartwarming journey of motherhood has transformed my perception, revealing the beauty and simplicity of love.

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Summary:

In this heartfelt reflection, a mother shares her journey of discovering the true meaning of motherhood through her adopted son, Israel. Despite her initial feelings of inadequacy, she learns that being a mother is not about perfection but about love, warmth, and connection. Israel, who has known hardship as an orphan, is now teaching her the simple yet profound ways a mother can nurture and support a child, reminding us that love transcends all barriers.

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