We’ve been having some very serious, rather heavy adoption conversations in our house lately.
One of them I fully anticipated, but never in a million years did I think it would happen when Molley was three years old.
The second I never in a million years could have anticipated, but we’re doing the best we can with it.
I will write about these more next week, both because I think these are conversations many adoptive families have and also because it helps “normalize” adoption – and the parts of it that aren’t normal at all – to talk about it.
It’s easy to look at a happy adoptive family and think, “How wonderful. The kids were adopted, they are loved and they lived happily ever after.”
And they were adopted. And they are loved. And we are living happily.
But there’s more to it than that and I don’t ever want my kids to feel like they have to ignore those parts that, thankfully, they already feel comfortable sharing with us. And I want other families to know that we are just like everyone else, but we’re not at the same time.
Anyway, more on this next week. I’ve been searching through photos of Mattix’s babyhood – both the small handful of photos we were lucky to receive during the almost-year before he joined our family and the insane amount I took during the six months after – so I could put something together for him from that specific time period.
And the pictures form his baby months? Precious. And difficult. But precious. Thursday Throwback – not sure whether I’ll do this regularly or just today, but here it is!
This was our newly formed family, just a few days after we got home from Vietnam… and just a few days before Christmas. At the time, I was mortified by the jetlag weighing down my face. It both concerns and saddens me that I look far more jetlagged these days – after driving to the grocery store.
This was my sweet baby, eyeing me with the uncertainty that he felt. I can’t image what it was like to feel the way he did. And four-and-a-half years later, I’m starting to understand what he feels now because he can tell me – and slowly is telling me.
Kids are truly amazing. They stretch us and push us and exhaust us and fulfill us. I can’t image any other life than this one.