My Favorite Name

I never get sick of hearing the words “Mommy” or “Mama.”  It seems like a lifetime ago that Marcel and Mya called me anything else, but several times a week I smile and quietly praise the Lord for knitting our children’s hearts to ours and making them mine.

The name “mommy” was not an instant title for me.  Mya, who was four at the time, had (and does still!) such a strong, independent, and wonderful personality. Mya loves being the center of attention, loves making people laugh, and loves saying things that you would hear out of the mouth of a teenager.  If Mya loves someone, she often jumps up and down and runs into their arms when she sees them. But, if she isn’t your “friend” (which she has no problem telling you) and you ask Mya for a hug, she will politely (most of the time) tell you “no thank you” and walk away. Mya’s favorite phrase when we met her was “I can do it by myself” and almost two years later, she still loves trying to do things on her own and proudly displays her skills to all who will watch.  

We had a different transition then most foster families to become their parents.  When we decided to become Marcel and Mya’s foster parents (with the intention of adoption), we had to wait three long months to actually have them move in with us.  During this time, they lived with us all weekend and their poor little hearts were confused and unsettled as they tried to figure out what was in store for their future.

We told the children about a month and a half into the “transition” period that we would be their new mommy and daddy, but never told them what to call us.  Since we had such a long/strange "in-transition" stage where we weren't their parents, but were trying to be...we figured they were confused and when the dust settled, would instinctively know what to call us. First, our names were Mr. Vermon and Ms. Dennae. Then, Dennae and Vermon. By the time they moved in with us, they were calling us Mommy Dennae and Daddy Vermon.

Within days of living with us, Marcel and Mya were calling Vermon "daddy." It was so precious to hear and I loved seeing Vermon's big smile every time they heard it...it did not go so quickly with me. I figured, it would take longer to start calling me "mom," but knew it would happen. Even though I was slightly jealous of Vermon, I figured, even mother of infants don't get to hear themselves called mom for almost a year--and even then, for some reason, "da da" is among babies first words.  The Lord just filled me with a pursuing love for them that longed for them to feel and know that I was their mom.

The journey of becoming "Mommy" went something like this...

Mya would be having a tantrum and I would be disciplining her, explaining her sin and hard heart and her need for Jesus. "You'll NNNNNEEEEEEVVVVVEEEERRR be my mommy!" She would scream at the top of her lungs.

Later in the day, Vermon would home, "Daddy!" and then she'd look over at me and stick her hand on her hip and say, "he's my daddy! You're not my mommy!"

Other times we would be playing dolls or with stuffed animals and she would "make-believe" I was her mommy...and giggle or laugh every time she called me it, but made sure to tell me it was just a game. She wanted to test it out, but wasn't ready to commit. 

"Dennae" she would say, "yes, daughter" "You can be my mommy yesterday (she mixes up yesterday and tomorrow)" I would gently explain that I already am her mommy, just like God is my Father, even when I don’t act like he is. 

Our entire first month and a half was like this. I knew Mya desperately wanted a mommy, she longed to call me mommy and longed to belong to me. She would desperately want me to hold her, but would resist asking me with every bone in her body. I could see the turmoil within her.

Then, on Mother's Day, Mya started calling me "Mommy" and instantly began acting like I was her mommy. The transformation in her heart was beautiful. Vermon and I (and everyone around us) kept remarking that she became more and more beautiful in the  first months she was living with us.  As she grew more confidence that we were her forever family and as she realized that she belonged to us, she physically and emotionally transformed before our eyes.

It is getting harder to remember the Mya who would not call me “Mommy.” Now, I can't even go into the bathroom without Mya wanting to follow me in. Several times a day, Mya runs up to me, kisses me, and says, "You're the best Mommy in the WHOLE world." When she's in time out, now she argues, "But Mommy, I need you to be with me. But Mommy, I won't be able to see you!"

I LOVE my new name.