I feel like a failure.
No, I'm still pregnant for now. I haven't failed at that, yet...
I feel like a failure as a mother. Lately, dealing with Makinzy has been so overwhelmingly awful.
I don't like being around her. I don't even want to be in the same room. You may ask how this is possible, especially if you know her personally. She seems like the bubbliest, most goofy, most caring little girl, and you'd be right in thinking that. Everyone describes her as Suh-weet. That's sweet with two syllables the way southern women say it. And yeah, she is. TO EVERYONE ELSE. But to me? She's hateful. Smart mouthed. Rude. And it is exacerbated every time I get pregnant. I even asked her about that and what she was feeling, and she said didn't like when I was pregnant because my medicines make me mean so she wants to be mean to me... They do make me moodier, I'll admit, but she never could get to the heart of what's really going on. And frankly, I am tired of hormones as an excuse. While they do play a role in this, it's not a cop-out. I might have a shorter temper or less patience, but I am not purposefully hateful. I don't have a clue as to how to help her, and I don't know how I can keep this up.
Some days, I just want to say I'm done - that this was a mistake. That I got in over my head. Seriously. I think to myself get. her. out. of. my. house. This isn't working.
My mind blames her and the stress she causes on the miscarriages (I quickly push that away - I know better.)
My mind tells me that nothing I can ever do will prevent her from turning into her biological mother. That she will pick the wrong path regardless.
My mind excuses me from any and all responsibility for her future, because there's nothing I can do.
I am not one to blame Satan for everything, but I do believe he has tried to take root in the fractures in our relationship in my mind and he spreads doubt and anger like kudzu. Those thoughts are his doing, I know. It's his way of pushing me to give up, give in, and admit failure.
But I know better.
She's mean and hateful with me because I am her mama.
Because I expect more from her than other people do.
Because I don't just dote on her sweetness, but push her to be more and do more.
Because I don't make excuses for her.
And because she's worried, too. She doesn't really know what she's doing either.
Over and over again, I have to remind myself of something I know so clearly. We were called to adopt Makinzy. We were called to be her mother and father. I felt the very thumb of God on my heart when I first heard mention of her, and He nearly knocked the wind out of me. Never, in all of my life, have I been more convinced of God's will for my life, than when I was asked if I would be willing to become her mother.
So, if this is God-ordained, why is it so HARD?! Why is it so painful? And why am I letting Satan plant all these seeds of evil in my mind?
Sometimes I think I am failing her. That I love her too much to be a good mother - that wanting her to be her best actually damages her and our relationship and all I am doing is messing up an already messed up child. People tell us we are doing an amazing job with her, but it feels so hollow - and I think, sure, but you don't see behind closed doors. You don't see how much she and I live in this cycle of hurting one another to see if we will still love each other anyways.
I hope she grows up and comes back and reads my thoughts someday. I hope that she will be able to see how much she is loved, and just how much I believe in her. I get so angry when she doesn't live up to her potential because I know who she is able to be. I hope she sees that I set rules, consequences, and expectations not in meanness to her but out of love. I hope she forgives me for being a flawed individual myself - one who has been though a whole lot of hurt myself, one with my own struggles with my temper, sass, and quick tongue. And I hope she realizes I am doing the best I can at a job I could not have prepared myself for. I pray for God to fill in the gaps where I fail and to mend and clean the messes I make. I pray for Him to soften her heart towards me, and for her to see me for who I am. A mom who loves her.