new mom.

It’s fascinating to compare the new-mom-me of right now with the new-mom-me of my biological children. No, I did not birth Gabriel and Noah. They aren’t even babies. But here I am, with my new-mom tunnel vision.

Every waking moment is filled with meeting the needs of our four children, and then when they are asleep David and I start the problem-solving. About eating habits, bedtime routine, temper tantrums, discipline, sibling bonding and rivalry, attaching. Our conversations come in bits and pieces and are intense. “What should we do about ____?” I send out texts or snatches of emails to our adoption specialist or my friends who have adopted, wanting so bad to do this right. I feel like we just get one chance at these early days, at bonding well.

I have not been pregnant or in labor, but I feel as hormonal as I did after giving birth. My emotions teeter-totter from high highs to low lows. I am overjoyed and bursting with pride, and then I am overwhelmed and terrified. I am shedding tears of love, then the next moment tears of desperation (sometimes it’s hard to discern one from the other).

And the uptightness. Oh my goodness. Do you know what I’m talking about? I swore I’d never be as uptight a new mom as I was with Judah and Amelie. Yet here we are venturing out in public and I cannot take my eyes off Gabriel and Noah every second. Amie is trying to help me push the stroller on our walk and I’m freaking out about the possibility of cars or of the stroller tipping over. I’m so very mindful that I have to keep these two little people alive, tensed to sprint at all moments if someone races toward a stranger or to the street. I literally caught myself swaying as if soothing a crying child as I stood outside this afternoon and talked to a friend.

Yes, I’m that mom who’s obsessed with her children, talking nonstop to anyone who will listen, posting cute photos to Instagram, hardly able to talk about anything else. The biggest problem in the world today is that Gabe is complaining of a stomachache and I’m racking my brain about the cause and whether I should call our pediatrician (Judah suggests that it could be a steady diet of nothing but PB&J).

Frankly, I find myself annoying.

But it’s also kind of cute. Because it means these are my sons. Even if they didn’t come from my belly. Even if I only just met them 14 days ago. One day the obsessing and the uptightness will ease. I’ll roll my eyes at the me of right now, wishing I would’ve just had a little perspective and lightened up, for goodness’ sake. But for now I’m giving myself a break, embracing this crazy new-mom tunnel vision and hopefully in the process becoming just a teeny bit more humbled.