Monday, October 22, 2012

A Tale of Two Years

Two years ago I saw my son for the first time.
The pixelated images that I printed out and held close to me for the months before I could hold his actual body to mine.
I heard a voice say "His name is Million," and my heart melted.
I didn't know that my tiny boy would have such a large personality.
I didn't know how deeply enmeshed my heart would be with his.
I only knew that he was mine.
He was my first child.
He was my little boy.
He was our son.

Michael and I are often asked if we feel bad for missing out on most of his big "firsts", since he didn't come home until he was speaking, running, with eight teeth, eating solid foods, etc.
Our answer has always been no.
We don't feel bad for missing it.
It's just what we know.

I think had we procreated first, there might have been some elements of that, and maybe once November Boy is born, we will experience some grief when we realize all we missed.

But I know that adoption first was absolutely right for us as a couple.  God knew that He could use it to open up our hearts and eyes in a way that the birth of a child of our flesh couldn't possibly accomplish.    

There are so many more things I could say today, on our two-year anniversary of our referral phone call.
But words are failing.
So I will just cherish memories and gratefully acknowledge God's working in our lives as a family.

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