I'm relieving myself of duty

I have struggled for months with the "Do I love him?" question. Yes, the adopted child, not the biological. Why? I don't know. Because it was arranged marriage? Because he liked to bite, pinch and kick me more than anyone else. Because he is the most stubborn person I've ever met aside from me? I want him to get his fair share of me, of life, of love. I have examined myself, my behavior first. And, I've decided its not productive.

I love both my boys, on days. On days, I may not love one of them, or both of them, or either either of them, or the husband (let's not forget that boy in my life!). Generally, I love them all. Not surprisingly I love them all when they are not present. But, I do love them a lot when they are present. The reality is I have two toddlers and the work load (feeding, wiping butts and noses, diapers, refereeing) is just heavy. My standards for myself are ridiculously high. I don't achieve.

When I started the adoption path, I was angry that the social worker asked me if I thought I could love an adopted child as much as my birth child. The answer was "yes" and I felt it shouldn't be questioned. I believed her status as childless and under 25, left unqualified to question my answer. But since then I've questioned it daily, do I love the Big Boy more than the Little Man. And do I "love" the Little Man?

Frankly, the questioning is not productive. I love him. I love the first child. I love the second child. I love the biological. I love the adopted. They are different. They require different activities, different guidance, different training, different treatment, and yes, it leads to different love. Not a lack of love, but something a little different.

Yesterday, I overheard a group of women telling one woman she was amazing for having adopted seven children out of the foster care system after having three biologically (is that a word?). I was part of the group, so it was slightly noticeable I did not chime in as others were commenting that "the kids were so lucky", "how this was such a noble thing to do". How do I contribute when I realize there was loss involved in finding new parents. When I realize 'new parents' will always leave a question in the child's mind about what happened to the original set? More importantly, I still realize that there is a constant level of care, of yes a "love", but also a variable level to "love".

The bottom line is, there is love. And there is no one I love daily, not even me, which is likely the source of the problem. But there is clearly no upside in pitting the love of one child against another for measurement. There is no way to measure a love for a child when the pressures of life are squeezing and circumstances are strained. I could love a child enough to give it a better opportunity than me. I could love the "idea" of a child enough to bring it into my life. I can love the child once it is in my life.

I am putting on the blinders to life, blinders to love, I am calling it love and I am no longer willing to examine this question.

The examination makes me feel bad when I'm not 'in love' with being a parent. It makes me feel bad when I can't do everything I "think" I should. It makes me feel bad that I am not meeting non-parent, non-adoptive parent "ideals". It sucks that I don't live up to my own expectations, let alone the great big bag of bullshit that we all bought about the act of parenting being honorable and rewarding, all the time.

Guess what, parenting is hard. I love my boys. Both of them and the hubby. And I declare myself relieve of the duty of continuing to monitor the "love".