Adoption is part of our story, but it does not define our day-to-day lives. It’s been almost five years since we brought home our baby boy through the miracle of adoption.
The tank squats low and heavy in the middle of the city at the center of a roundabout, a giant hunk of refuse. Dark, cold metal, it absorbs the tropical light like a black hole.
I wanted to be the courageous birth mom. I wanted to be the attentive adoptive mom for my son. I wanted to be the always loving mom for my three biological children. I wanted to prove myself worthy for the daughter I placed for adoption…and years later re-adopted into the family. And I wanted to do it all without breaking a sweat.
I have been a birth mother for eight years. There are times when these eight years have felt longer, and sometimes its still hard to believe I’m a birth mom at all.
It was only three weeks from the time we learned we’d been chosen by an expectant mother to the time our son entered the world. When we received the call that our son had arrived, we drove an hour to finally meet the little boy that would make us parents.