What changed after contact

I grab Ben, strap him in his car seat, drive recklessly at 35 miles per hour in a 20 miles per hour area, and run to join the queue at the school gates, just in time to see them opening. I glance down at a grumpy Ben and notice a big smudge of toothpaste on his t-shirt. I bend to clean it as best as I can before entering the school when I realise I’m wearing one blue sock and a bright pink one.

When three hours later I go back to pick him up, a very apprehensive teacher explains that Ben has been very aggressive, hitting and kicking the other boys. She tries to be sensitive when asking, “Can you pop in on Friday to discuss the situation? Did anything happened at home lately?”. I’m not really listening anymore, all I can think is: How did I get to this point again?

I look down at my blue and bright pink socks again. Mornings have been a real struggle lately. Ben wakes up, and as I open his bedroom door he yells at me to go away. A minute later he cries for me to hug him and comfort him, and as I do, he goes back at pushing me away, if not punching and kicking me. All that resumes again as I pick him up from school.

We had rough times in the past, but never this bad. I’m not one to jump to conclusions too hastily, but the only real event that had happened lately is our first meeting with Harvey, Ben’s birth brother.

I must admit, I was a little nervous of meeting Harvey and his adoptive family myself, but Ben looked so happy and excited about it. He talked endlessly about the meeting, and he seemed to be coping much better than I was.

The morning of the meeting he woke up at 4am. Not the first time Ben woke up this early, but still very unsual. Waking up early meant that our morning routine could take a more gentle pace; we had plenty of time. But it also meant everything that morning dragged on for a little longer, which contributed to increase my anxiety about the day ahead. I assumed, Ben being so young, it wasn’t the same for him. Now, I don’t know.

It was quite something looking at the two boys meeting for the first time. It might be me being a romantic, but I saw an instant connection between them, it was emotional and surreal at the same time. They play together for hours, Ben seemed to follow Harvey everywhere he went, and Harvey didn’t seem to mind. They even shared a cake and a sandwich together.

Ben was still excited about their meeting the morning after, and he couldn’t wait to tell his teachers. Now that I think about it, that was when things started to fall apart. He has been angry with me for days now, and I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve it.

I’m his mummy. The one he calls to tell about his latest exciting adventure, and the one he runs to when he gets hurt. I always know what’s buzzing in his head, but this time I’m at a loss. I’m wondering if the experience of meeting his brother had some special meaning for him he cannot express in his own words, but most of all, I’m wondering what he meant for him to finally learn he has a brother.