Firsts

I was reading another mom's blog today about "firsts" and "lasts". "Firsts" are generally celebrated, cheered and looked forward to.....first steps, first birthdays, first day of school, etc... This mom talked about how "lasts" kind of sneak up on you. They may even escape your memory. For example, I don't remember the last time I brushed my teenage daughter's hair, tied my ten-year-old's shoes or picked out clothes for my eleven-year-old. It just happened gradually, no fuss, no fanfare.

For some of my children, there are a lot of "firsts" they don't remember or have not even been told about because no one was there to cheer or celebrate or document these special times for them. They don't know when they said their first word or took their first steps. There are no pictures of their first birthday or their first hair cut. A few of my girls really grieve over this loss. They often ask me questions like "What do you think was my first word?" or "How old do you think I was when I first started eating baby food?" or "Do you think I was bald or had lots of hair?".

For me this is sad for a couple of reasons. I hate to see my children so sad....when they are sad, I am sad. (guess it's a mom thing:) But I am also sad for me. I'm sad that I wasn't able to be there to cheer, celebrate and remember these things for them. Sad, that I missed out on part of their childhood. Sad, that they had to have a lot of "firsts" that they never should have experienced at all. Kids should not have to remember the first time the police came to the door to take them to a foster home or the first time the social worker interviewed them. It makes me sad to think of the life they had before adoption.

When we moved about four years ago, I remeber that one of my little RADlets became very scared, almost confused, at the idea of moving. We talked about it and to be honest I don't remember a lot about the conversation except that she said something about "switching mommies". I couldn't figure out what she meant for the longest time til I realized that the other times she had moved was from either from her birth mom's to a foster home, or from one foster home to another and then to our home. She had never just "switched houses" without "switching mommies". I guess that was a "first". The first time she had moved and not "switched mommies". Not really the kind of "first" you photograph and call the relatives about but a positive one none the less.

I guess the moral of this story is......sometimes you have to look hard for something positive to cheer about and celebrate.