Birds and The Bees Please
When we brought Richa home I dreaded the tough stuff…. the mistakes, the lying, and the misbehavior that I knew were an inevitable part of being a parent because I don’t really enjoy conflict. It’s usually uncomfortable and I never know if caring enough to confront will change the relationship for the worse or for the better. I’ve seen both happen at various times in my life. With Richa it consistently has brought her closer to us, but each time we “go there” I’m afraid this time she’ll pull away.
This cycle of confrontation, crying, compassion, and then unexpected closeness has been a current theme over the last few months, and I could be wrong (wouldn’t be the first time) but I think she’s starting to grasp the magical concept of unconditional love and the permanence of family. She’s referring to me as Mom and Andrew as Dad. Not directly to our face, but to other people in our presence. She’s drawing me pictures and writing “I love you mom” on them. Be still my heart. She’s telling me when she can’t find something she needs when she’s getting ready in the morning, she’s apologizing through tears when she breaks a rule, she’s telling us when she’s scared, and she’s asking us questions. One of the brain busters she asked me last week was “How do babies get in their mom’s belly?” 5 months of being a parent and I’m already having to have the sex talk?? Pass the chardonnay please and make it a 32 oz.
For most parents, explaining to their children how babies are conceived and brought into this world produces a sufficient amount of anxiety and dread. It’s weird and gross for the majority of kids under the age of 12, so not only are we dealing with that pukin rally, but the birds and the bees are a dark fall down the bunny hole straight to birth mom. I’d put off this life altering chat for two weeks, but the night before bed when she asked I promised I would tell her another day, and I needed to follow through on that promise.
I was given a great book by one of my AMMs which helped the explaining portion of the sex talk go smoothly. If you are coming up on this parenting milestone, and you want extra protection (no pun intended) I highly recommend Before I was born by Carolyn Nystrom. I skipped a few sentences (English is my daughter’s second language…. Her vocab needs to include words like cereal and ponytail before we start throwing around the term scrotum) but in my opinion it’s the perfect balance between the anatomy and the intimacy of procreation. My husband sat next to me and followed along silently while I read. This resulted in a fit of church giggles and a under the table kick in the shin but overall, we were able to feign maturity for most of our 30-minute conversation. With my teacher hat on I wrapped everything up with the age old “Do you have any questions?” which was followed by her asking me why women have a period which was then followed by my artistic rendition of a faceless, armless, hermaphrodite with a shedding womb. I’m either selling it on Etsy or putting it in her My First Year in America scrapbook. Still undecided.
This awkward dialog was another opportunity for Richa to know why we chose to adopt her, that we wanted her more than we wanted a baby, and that we love her the same way mommies that carry babies in their belly’s love their children. I wish I had a video of her face when we tell her these type of things. We talked about her birth mom and dad, and assured her that she can come to us with any questions about her birth family. I can’t imagine all the thoughts that must have and will continue to go through her mind as she connects her miraculous and beautiful conception with her heartbreaking abandonment, but that my friends is another conversation for another day.
