love

I want You To Know 

I am Wyatt’s mom. Yes for sure. I am also Wyatt’s second mom. He has a biological mom, a birth mom, and I am not that. I think about his biological mom a lot. But especially on Mother’s Day and his birthday. I’m sure I’ll think about her on his first day of kindergarten and on his 16th birthday and when (if) he gets married. Significant moments she will never share with him. Significant moments he will never share with her. Significant moments that only by the grace of God I get to share with him and he with me. 

 Mothering someone else’s baby is beautiful and complicated and gives me exactly all the feels. It is all of that. Forever. And some days I wish I could reach across the oceans, give her a hug and whisper in her ear: “He’s okay and he’s loved. Oh, and you’re loved too sister.”

Hey girl, 

I want you to know that you birthed one hell of a kid. Really. You honest to God did. 

I want you to know he has a killer fake laugh right now. It’s borderline ridiculous. 

I want you to know he loves cars so very much. He never leaves the house without at least five of them. 

I want you to know he is hilarious. He is genuinely funny and I love it. 

I want you to know he’s beyond ticklish. Like, everywhere. The neck. The feet. The thigh. The hiney. The underarms. All the places.

I want you to know he loves throwing rocks into a lake by our house. 

I want you to know his tiny voice is the most precious. 

I want you to know he loves Popsicles. Like wakes up asking for one. 

I want you to know he’s learned to ride his tricycle. It’s red and he was so scared at first. 

I want you to know he loves Lightning McQueen. And Thomas The Train. And Finding Nemo. 

I want you to know that bacon is the name of his game at the moment. 

I want you to know he’s sweet. So, so sweet. And kind. 

I want you to know he loves slushies. He usually picks purple but sometimes it’s red. Or blue. 

I want you to know his eyelashes still curl all the way up to his eyelids. Sometimes he tries to pick at them and I lose it every time. 

I want you to know he’s sleeping in a big boy bed now. It has trucks all over it and he thinks he’s hot stuff sleeping in it. It’s the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.

I want you to know he loves jumping on the trampoline and blowing bubbles and playing baseball and kicking the big red ball. 

I want you to know he never stops talking. Seriously never. 

I want you to know he loves to sing. He knows all the words to Adele’s Hello. It’s kind of hilarious. The kid can sing let me tell you. 

I want you to know that he tells this joke about a giraffe and it makes me laugh out loud every time. 

I want you to know he loves reading books. Same Same But Different, The Skin You Live In and Goodnight Goodnight Construction Site are popular ones right now. 

I want you to know he’s happy. This time last year I wasn’t so sure, but deep in my soul I know he’s happy now.  

I want you to know he’s growing up. He’s tall and his baby face has turned into a little kid face. He’s not as squishy anymore. (Sad face) 

I want you to know he is so loved. By a host of people. 

I want you to know he’s going to be a brother soon. And I think he’s going to rock it. 

I want you to know he is stubborn as all get out. Like I dare you to try and get him to do something he doesn’t want to. 

I want you to know his big brown eyes still have a sparkle to them. And that sparkle still makes me want to weep a little bit. 

I want you to know he’s started pouting recently and I can’t stop laughing about it. 

I want you to know you’re loved. That we still believe in a whole lot of grace. And redemption. And forgiveness. That I love being your boys mom. That I can’t wait to link arms with you one day and show you our boy. Thank you for sharing him with me. 

Happy Mother’s Day to you, sister.

xoxo, ck

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On Choosing Love

A lot of people say in regards to adoption that they just don’t know if they could ever love a kid that wasn’t their own. (And because I hate that word I will insert “biological” here.) That statement used to piss me off. Like, what in the actual hell? But now I get it.

Adoption is teaching me that love is a choice. I can choose to love… to be kind, to be patient, to be selfless, to care for… love is something I do not always feel. I can choose to love without feeling love, because love is an action word. (Hello, think about marriage. Dustin and I do not always feel love towards each other, because duh, but we choose to love each other regardless.) Love is not always an easy choice and it doesn’t always make sense. Choosing love is not always accompanied by heart eyes and feels. Choosing to love doesn’t always mean you will feel love just because you chose it.

Adoption is teaching me that love is also a feeling. You can choose to love without feeling love and then one day YOU CAN FEEL ACTUAL LOVE. I swear to you. Because love as a feeling doesn’t always happen immediately. (Hello, think about marriage. Dustin and I didn’t love each other the first time we met. But we fell in love. Eventually. Overtime.) Love the feeling is something that can grow and evolve, because love is an action word.

People always want to know what it was like to meet Wyatt (and JT) for the first time. My answer is always the same… it was really weird. They brought JT in and told him I was his new mom. They brought Wyatt in and he screamed terrified screams the second they handed him to me. People are staring at you, watching everything you do. It was awkward and weird and not like this precious amazing thing. I didn’t feel anything, other than like I was going to throw up both times. I didn’t just know that I was supposed to be either of their moms. I didn’t feel different meeting Wyatt than I did meeting JT. I didn’t feel overcome with mom feelings or heart eyes or go mushy with love feelings. I just didn’t. I know people who have experienced that and I think that’s awesome and really special. Instead, both times, I looked at precious Ugandan faces and I said in my head: “I will love you. I choose to love you.” And then I whispered that in ears over and over and over again and prayed one day I would feel it.

Because sometimes love is a choice first and a feeling second. That’s what becoming a mom overnight to a grieving kid I didn’t know is teaching me. Choosing to love is powerful and we can always choose to love. And so to the people who just aren’t sure if they could ever love a non biological kid? You can. I promise.