On (Step)Parenting: Loving What Isn't Mine

I’m 23 and I have a 5 year old stepdaughter. I love her. A year ago, I couldn’t tell you what it’s like to carry a baby in your belly, and I couldn’t define the love that a parent has for a child all their “own.” But I can do all that now. In January, I had Jordan Kade Darbison, the most beautiful baby boy in the whole world. I’ve spent entire nights rocking him; I’ve lived off 2 hours of sleep for days on end. I’ve taken him to the doctor, watched him get his shots, and watched him grow. I didn’t get to do any of those things with my daughter Ali. I met her when she was 3, and immediately fell in love. When I walked down the aisle to marry her dad, Kris, I carried her. Our little flower girl was too shy to walk by herself! And now, she is almost 6, and, having had Jordan, I can honestly say that I love her just as much as any mom can love their own child. I watch her play t-ball, a proud mom who nudges the lady next to me and says, “She’s mine!”

But she’s not mine. I often have to remind myself that God will never give me more than I can handle. As hard as this whole thing seems, I will continue to unconditionally love Ali for the rest of my life. She deserves that! She is the most amazing kid on the planet. She starts kindergarten next year and can already read better than most 2^nd graders! The other day she said to me, “Destiny, I need to talk to you.” Then she grabbed my hand and walked me to my bedroom, sat down on the bed, and finished with, “We need to have some mommy-daughter time. Can we go to McDonald’s?” I laughed so hard; she totally knew how to butter me up to get what she wanted!

I have tried to research ways to deal with being a stepparent, but everyone’s situation is different, so there is no cut-and-paste way to figure this whole process out. The one thing I can bet is true for everyone is that it is not always easy. As a stepparent, you’re always on shaky ground, and it feels like someone can just pull the rug out from under you at any moment. Sometimes I wonder if it’s all worth it. And then I go into Ali’s room while she’s sleeping and just look at her. I’m amazed at how perfect she is; so innocent, so loving. And then I bend down and kiss her on the forehead and think, YES, it is definitely all worth it.

First Emergency Room Visit, Oh My!

Jordan, Jordan, Jordan... He may very well be the death of me! He goes to bed at 6:30 every day, which is a pain because then he wakes up around 5 in the morning when Mommy is clearly NOT ready to start the day yet! Our morning routine has consisted of waking up too early, nursing, and then putting him in his swing where he usually A) plays until I wake up for good or B) falls asleep. Saturday morning was no different. It was a Saturday, for crying out loud! The day to sleep in and wake up feeling refreshed had finally come. So when Jordan woke up at 5:30, we resumed our normal routine. I put him in his swing and he looked as if he was going to fall asleep. Mistake #1: trusting he would really fall asleep. Mistake #2: not strapping him into the swing. *Sigh*

I went back to bed. Need I remind you that it was a Saturday morning!? I could hear the swing tick tick ticking as it went back and forth, back and forth, back and... and then I was asleep. I was asleep for what felt like 3 seconds when I heard a loud SMACK and then a baby crying. My husband and I have never moved so fast. We were both out of bed and in the living room in half a second, where we found our baby boy face down on the floor. It makes me sick to my stomach to even think about how bad it could have been. I scooped him up and saw a dark purple mark just over his right eye. He had for sure hit his head on the corner of our DVD stand. I got dressed and took him to the ER. We were there for 3 hours. They took x-rays of his skull and checked his eyes and pushed on his neck. You know what Jordan did the whole time? Smiled and giggled up a storm. He was over the whole thing in about 2 minutes.

We left with a piece of paper saying to watch him closely for the next 12 hours, and that basically a baby’s skull is so soft that it would take something a lot worse than a twelve inch fall to really hurt them. I spent the rest of the day looking at his eyes, making sure his pupils were the same size. Less than a week later, you can’t even tell anything happened. Same ole baby again: bruise-less and happy. As for MOM, well I worry every single time I’m not in the same room as he is. I strap him in good and tight, and check in on him every three and a half seconds or so.

Lesson? NEVER assume the baby is going to fall asleep. He’s a tricky one. And ALWAYS strap him in—the little wiggle worm may just wiggle himself right out of the swing.