I Became A Mother Late In Life

Last week, I adopted the little girl I always dreamed of having

I adopted a little girl last week.

She’s small and sweet; she turned 7 in March. She comes across as a bit shy at first until she sees evidence of safety in her midst. She wears a pixie cut of slightly wavy, but mostly straight chestnut brown hair. Her smile is sprinkled with gaps from a few lost baby teeth. Her dark brown eyes, so dark you can barely see her pupils, dart in all directions, on the lookout for danger, the potential for harm. She’s seems smaller than her actual size.

This little girl has needed a home for a long, long time, and after many attempts to find one, she and I were connected, and all the pieces fell into place for both of us.

I signed the paperwork and we went home together. I said “come on in, kick off your shoes (if you want), and sit and stay awhile, until you’re ready to go and start the life you want to live, when you’re a grown up, too.

Are you thirsty? Can I get you something to drink? Or would you like to help yourself?The kitchen’s right over there. I want to introduce to the pups, this is Hugo. He’s a Shih-Tzu and has to get a haircut once a month. This is Maisy, she’s a mutt. She never needs a haircut, but she does take baths. Maisy’s very shy, but once she’s used to having you here, she’s going to fall in love. Hugo isn’t shy at all. He might even get annoying! Big Frankie, our cat, is in and out. You’ll meet him later when he comes in for dinner.

Are you hungry for a snack? Do you need to rest? I can show you your room, it’s down the hall, the bathroom’s on the left. The big, fluffy, hot pink towel hanging on the rack is for you. They told me it was your favorite color, but you don’t ever wear it, and that you love to wear striped shirts in bright colors. We’ll shop.

By the way, your room is yours, all yours; you don’t ever have to share it with anyone and you can decorate it any way you like. But you might want to invite a friend for a sleepover once in a while. You can do that. We have lots of room.

I was told that you love to read, and I do, too, so I took the liberty of buying you some books. They’re favorites of mine and all my life, I’ve wanted to share them with someone special. If you don’t like them, we can get different ones. We can choose them together.

My mom used to read to me every night when I was a little girl, right before bedtime. She’d bundle me into bed, tucking my blanket around me, and sit on the edge, holding the book up so I could see the pictures. I loved doing with her that more than anything else we did together. Would you like me to read to you? Or do you prefer to do the reading yourself?

Our town library is right around the corner. It’s so close, we can walk there, and even bring the pups, but they’d have to stay outside, so maybe we’ll leave them home. And I’ll take you to my favorite bookstore, too; they’ve got a great kids section upstairs with a huge mural on the wall that my friend Will painted. We’ll have to drive to get there, it’s way too far to walk, and while we’re in town, maybe we’ll get an ice cream cone. Do you like ice cream? Hmmm, I thought so. Guess what? Me, too. Do you have a favorite flavor? I like chocolate, pistachio, mint chocolate chip, and in the summer, if I can find it, nothing is better than a cup of homemade peach ice cream. I sometimes tell people that ice cream is my favorite food group. It makes them laugh, because they think I’m joking…but I’m serious!

Is there something I can do to help you feel more comfortable? Our lives are going to be different now. Because now, I have you and you have me. I see you and I want you to feel safe, my sweetheart. I’ve got your back. It’s all good. I love you more than I love anyone else in the whole wide world, and I always will.

You can talk to me any time you think I’m doing something wrong and I’ll listen. I always want to know.

Yes, dear reader. Yes, indeed, I am talking to myself.

I’ve gone through so many changes over the last 10 years. It’s been slow-going, often painful, and always challenging. I’m learning to love myself, I’m learning to trust that I’m able to manage my life in a healthy, nurturing way.

I’m in therapy, 12 Step; I’m learning about how the body holds onto our trauma. Pursuing creative endeavors, and letting go of old behaviors has been a lot of work. I’ve overcome so many things; serious depression, a low opinion of myself, my lack of confidence when it comes to writing and making art. I needed to do all the work for more than just the adult version of me.

I needed to go back and check in with the scared and lonely kid I once was, and who still lives inside of me.

I needed to be reintroduced to the angry teenager I once was. She continues to have an awful lot to say about how very fucked up the world is. I learn so much from her. I love her spirit, her fire, her outrage. My inner kids. They’re my family, and it’s my job to take care of all of us. I’m stepping up. I can do this.

I’m embracing all of the little me’s. The ones who worried, were afraid to get lost, who behaved well at all costs, because they were terrified to disappoint, to lose what little safety and security they felt they had. Tiptoeing through life, head down for the most part, quiet and often very, very sad.

Now that it’s time for me to take over, I’m excited but also quite nervous about the immensity of this responsibility.

I’ve never been a mother. I’m not sure I’ll know what to do. I don’t want to screw this up. Being a parent is hard, especially because I didn’t learn how to do it right. I guess I’ll have to trust my instincts. The golden rule comes in handy. I’ve always loved it. It’s so simple I’ve never understood why people seem to have so much trouble with it.

When I was younger I worked as a nanny. I babysat, but it’s not the same. I could always walk away. The commitment was to a job more than to the kids.The children in my care were ultimately not my responsibility, that belonged to their parents.

You might be wondering, “what’s the deal with all this inner child stuff? That sounds like malarkey.” That’s what I thought, too, when my therapist told me I needed to take care of Little Nan. I needed to make a connection to that part of me that hurt, felt unseen, and uncared for. I needed to talk to Teenage Nan, who was lonely, angry, scared, and impatient, the kid who wanted, more than anything, to be grown up, so she could make her own choices.

It felt so sappy at first, the idea of these other parts of me, but as the work deepened, I started to understand more clearly that because of the dysfunction I grew up with, there were times when I would have emotional responses that were not the balanced reaction of the adult version of me.

My responses in highly charged situations were sometimes bratty, sometimes fearful, often rage-filled and full of frustration. These are the responses of my younger selves.

Those younger parts of myself are still very much alive, and I want them to stay with me always. They need attention, they need to heard, seen, acknowledged for the value of their feelings, and they need to be comforted. They need to be encouraged to experience what’s really going on underneath the pain. It’s my job to embrace them, to hold them close, to teach them to trust, so those beautiful parts of me can play, and sing, and celebrate the life that we’ll enjoy together.

And that will set us free.

1. I’m so grateful when readers decide to support my writing financially by becoming paid subscribers, so if you want to do that, thank you, thank you!

2. If paid subscriptions aren’t your thing, but you still want to support me, Little Nan and I are going to the bookstore, and are on the hunt for some peach ice cream. I’m a sugar cone girl, how about you?

3. AND, here’s a thing that you can do that doesn’t cost a penny. On the top or bottom of the story, you can click on the heart and “♥️” my essay, click on the speech bubble (💬) and leave a comment, and/or click on the little spinny arrow thingies (♻️) and restack the post (“restack” means “share” in Substackese).

Those three actions will help me reach more readers!

This song makes me so happy. It also makes me cry, sometimes. Enjoy, xo.