The other day I was trying to write a list post about the ten things I’ve learned about adoption.

I couldn’t do it.

You may have noticed I don’t write about adoption on this blog very often. Sometimes I feel like I should. There are a lot of people on the internet looking for information about adoption. I used to be one of them. I still am, most of the time. Sometimes though, I get tired of adoption on the blogosphere. I get tired of reading about it, I get tired of being asked about it, I get tired of thinking about it.

The thing is, I don’t ever feel like an adoptive momma. I feel like a momma-momma. I don’t go through the day looking at Little T, saying to myself, “there’s my adopted son”. I think, “there’s my son and I love him so much that I’d give my life for him.” When I think about adoption, I think of it as a part of him. I think about how I need to be sensitive as he gets older, so I can help him process everything. I think about his birth family as a part of his life that may come back someday, and how I can help him get through it. I think about ways to make sure he feels included in his birth culture. I think about these things as a momma who wants the best life she can give for her son because he has some special circumstances. Sure, the circumstances are unique to our family, but aren’t they always?

Sometimes I don’t want to read about adoption. Sometimes, this momma needs a break so she can go through the day without being being told that her son is her adoptive son, instead of her son, son.