Its been a day of heaviness, at least for me. A day of questions about birth parents. I think it started when G asked about his foot, where his heel came from. And I answered it you were born with it when you were a baby. Talking to him about when he was a baby most always brings questions of his first mom and first dad. We have a picture of her and myself both in my bedroom and his. Today we did a lot of trying to explain who she was and who I am. Explaining to a 3 year old that one mommy carried him in her belly and held him when he was a baby, while I carried him in my heart. And that I now carry him in my arms while she carries him in her heart is a hard concept. I don't think it hurts him or upsets him, honestly I think he is just curious. So I try to answer his questions as best I can. And its easier for me to answer the mom questions than the dad ones.
If you've read my blog for any length of time then you know I am a single mom to this amazing little boy. That he is the joy of my life and I can't imagine life without him. But the one thing that we seem to always return to is the daddy. He is very aware of the fact that he doesn't have a daddy who lives with him. When we first came home and he learned how to communicate it seemed to be a constant discussion. Where's my daddy, Why don't I have a daddy, I want a daddy. As the days have progressed and I have answered these questions (although most of the times I feel like I stumble along in the answers), he seems to have accepted the fact that he does not have a daddy. He loves his uncle and peepaw and takes great joy and pleasure in them. But it comes back up and usually in the car. Yesterday leaving school we were talking about one of his best friends in his class and that maybe his daddy was picking him up from school. Which lead to asking if mommy was going to marry. (We've seemed to learn that being married means having a daddy, at least that is why we don't have a daddy is because mommy isn't married). I asked him why he wanted me to marry. He says, I want a daddy. Honestly it breaks my heart a little. It does help that we have a group of single mommas that hang out so he sees other children who only have mommas. And we talk about that fact. I always tell him about his Ethiopia daddy when we have these discussions. I want him to know he does have a daddy, just that he's not here with us now.
So today I think it finally sunk in that he had a another daddy. He wanted to know his name. I of course had not put that to memory (which now that I know it makes me go really Melissa, you should have known this, because a child is given their father's first name as their last name, and I had definitely seen and read G's birth last name often enough). So I searched the papers for it, found it and told him, and that is all he needed.
He seems to be good and I know these questions will continue on the rest of our lives. And I don't regret them or want them to stop. I'm glad he's comfortable asking them and I want to talk with him about them, but they just drain me honestly.
I love this boy so much, and just want him to be happy.