Just a dream

Last night I had the strangest dream and my wheels have been turning.

Tomorrow morning a meeting in Missoula for international adoptive parents takes place. I am thinking about going. In the words of the mom who invited me, "It is a chance for us all to sit around with a cup of coffee, cry about how hard things can be sometimes and lend each other support." I am excited to go. I am nervous to go.

Back to the dream.

Clark and I are at dinner with friends and they kindly bring us a bottle of wine. Not having enough arms to carry that plus the paraphernalia S.A. requires, we put the wine in her diaper bag. We forget the diaper bag in the car overnight and temperatures dip way below freezing. The next morning I am running late for the adoptive parents meeting and feeling hectic. On our way to the meeting S.A. poops, blowing out her outfit. We get to the coffee-shop and, hoisting S.A. out of the car, I whack the diaper bag on the car door quite hard. I enter the meeting to find a large group of composed, well-dressed moms who did not bring their children with them, sipping lattes. I am standing with a poop-saturated kiddo, holding a diaper bag that is slowly leaking wine out the side. I look down and see the lace of my boot trailing behind me on the floor and I think, "I can't believe my boots are untied."


Dream over.

I can't believe my boots are untied...

Waking up, I realize this dream is about my feelings of incompetence as Sylvie's mom. Her pooping is out of control; I've never seen anything like it. She burns through outfit after outfit all day long. We have changed diaper sizes and brands. We changed from cow's milk to goat's milk, which seems to have made it worse. Today we are trying soy milk and are re-testing for Salmonella and Giardia. It seems I've forgotten how to baby-proof. I've had three kids but somehow feel like this is my first time. Sometimes Sylvie cries and I can't help. She's outraged if I hold her, outraged if I put her down. The look on her face says, "You are doing this the wrong way!" Getting her to eat is a Herculean effort.

About these certain things I feel incompetent. I know coming into her life after she's had 18-months of we-don't-know-what is difficult. She has history. She has ways of being soothed that we are in the process of learning. Foods she's used to we can't offer. Everything here is different than in Ethiopia. Parenting a child from birth can be a shot in the dark. Parenting a child who has a year-and-a-half under her belt is much more complicated.

I am trying to cut myself slack.

I love this baby. I do not want anything about her to be different. That does not change how hard some days are.

It was just a dream. However, sometimes my boots are untied.

Take a deep breath, lace them back up, things are ok.