Today begins week three of the 21 day cleanse I'm doing. I decided that in order to be ready to be mama to four children under the age of 8, it might be a good idea to throw a little self-care in along with figuring out laundry systems and menu planning. It is good and relatively easy for a cleanse of this nature. Raw, liquid meals for breakfast and dinner, with a solid (but very clean) lunchtime meal.
The combination of doing the cleanse and passing court has been an interesting one. For one thing, I'm sleeping. I am a chronic insomiac, have been my whole life. I generally spend between 1 and 3 hours every night awake. It rarely stresses me out and I rarely put it to good use. It is hard to separate to which events I owe this sleep, but I'm thankful to have it.
Another side effect of cleansing is that along with clearing the physical body, it clears the emotional stuff too. Everything gets stirred up, brought to the surface. You are invariably more thin skinned and raw yourself. Which means I have been weepy, joyful, and awed by how blessed my life is. And irritable and grumpy. But I haven't been filled with the anxiety that had been hanging over me, a low-lying fog of helplessness and restlessness.
I have been thinking for a long time on a world in which Erik and I have the honor of parenting, loving, growing with a child that was not born to us. Moving last week from the abstract to the legal weighs on me heavily. How much I owe Yonas' Ethiopian family. How much I owe Ethiopia. How much I love this child that I've yet to meet.
Becoming raw to the emotions of the adoption process (especially a transracial one) is painful. It toothpick-opens your eyes simultaneously to some of the most beautiful and ugly aspects of humanity.
May I forever remain thin-skinned.
A Bronx Tale
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