Normal. What kind of word is that? Normal to who? For how long? See the thing I am realizing is that I am feeling this heavy blanket of cloudy horribleness that represents what I am trying to name my new normal. And I realize I have no freedom there and I feel so stifled to make any progress. Finally, i know a piece of why - who is deciding the normal? Is what i am ultimately trying to do measure normal and therefore acceptable to what was? It's just not that smooth of a transition.

Nine months ago we welcomed an infant into our family - precious Mateo - 10 months old entered our home as a miraculous gift. Normal gone. New normal - we were a family a four, we have a boy, we have a baby again, we have a courageous grieving birthmother in our life, Hannah is a big sister, sleep changes, days changes, nights changes, rooms change, on and on and on and yet... what do i expect of myself? Not to miss a beat. To be the best adoptive mom ever and immediately attach and bond and remember life with a baby.

Three months later we learn my mother's cancer has returned, the tumor has grown, and the medical options to extend or heal life no longer exists. Normal gone. Instantly we were facing a battle of epic proportions, watching the symptoms grow and steal from my mom. In time my role as daughter extended to also become a caregiver. While I still received love in very different ways, fairly quickly the relationship i knew was rewired and the new one sucked pretty bad. My relationships with my brother, sister and dad all also took on new complicated forms with our matriarch suffering.

20 days later I left my job at a place I really liked and felt there was a lot of opportunity for a future I could contribute to in that place. Quite suddenly, I was a stay at home mom and a caretaker. I had no colleagues or work trips or donor dinners. I didn't take showers every morning and put on clothes that matched with earrings and heels, i rolled out to crying, grabbed leggings, an oversized shirts, a hat and some Vans. Half my closet and half my head seemed to be quickly unnecessary, and other parts of me needed to stretch out longer than my body had ever been trained to do.

Two months later I kissed my mothers forehead for the final time as I grabbed her darkening hands and said goodbye. The ten days leading to her final breath were some of the most brutal days I have ever known. It took a toll on my entire person, and those of my immediate family, and three days later, it was Christmas. With young kids and stockings and cheese balls. How not normal could it possibly be? The day after Christmas we boarded a plane to head home to plan and offer a life celebration for my mother. The irony of every symbol and message on every store front and face around us had us walking around like aliens. Nothing in our bodies matched the glitter and exuberance of the season.

Two months later and here I am now. Expecting myself to have arrived at some new normal and be knocking life out. I have been parenting, dieting, leading bible studies, attending school and church functions, trying to reenter friendships and my marriage, etc. and etc. trying so hard to feel alive and normal. But no matter what i do or try, I don't have a grasp on this time. Ultimately I have created a portal to pile on defeat because I cannot hack in the same ways, for now. Not yet. And I think it is because I am trying to roll with all the same tools and strength of yesteryear. But today looks nothing like it. So I can keep trying and living but i need new tools like kindness, patience, and acceptance.

My timeline is all out there, much of the above you already know. But today i had to write it out and confess outloud that i am not adjusting or rising to a new occasion. This mound of grief and welcome cannot be rushed. I am deep in the thick of loss and gain and transition. And i don't have normal days. Many still hurt to the bone. Many are experimental. Many are confusing and lonely. Many offer new joy. But I haven't arrived at any new normal, and as of today I will commit to quit trying to a force an earlier arrival date.