Changes

4 years ago….October 6, 2006…our life changed forever.

A woman signed her rights away, and doing so, gave us the gift of a son.

By the time he was 1, he had more surgeries than most people have in their lifetimes.

He was therapized, terrorized, and traumatized.

We see more doctors than I care to count on a monthly basis.

He eats through a tube in his stomach.

He may never learn to tie his shoes, zipper his sweater, or eat a hamburger.

I don’t care.

I have a son. A son who looks at me with his big, blue eyes and I know he loves me. A son who adores his big sister even when he treats her like she’s his personal punching bag. A son who squeals when his Papa comes home from work, begging to see “Darf Bader” on the TV. A son who wakens at night to request (I use that term loosely) a visit from his Aunt.

Adoption, my friends, is not an exact science. One cannot “buy” the “perfect”  baby. Just as one cannot be sure that a child born in their own womb is “perfect.”

Adoption is acceptance, willingness, and change—all rolled up in a brown paper package. It’s unclear what’s inside, but you know, deep down, that it doesn’t matter, because you’re going to love it anyway! And when that package is truly opened, it no longer matters that the “surprise” inside is not what you dreamed or imagined, because it’s perfect—better than perfect—just the way it is.

Happy Jack-i-versary my son!

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