It is a busy Monday. A day filled with errands, laundry, picking up endless toys and shoes and books. A day filled with plenty of the usual things that make-up a typical weekday for me.
But it is not a typical day.
Today is my baby’s adoption day.
Four years ago today, the documents that made my husband and I his parents were signed, stamped, sealed and filed. Official.
But I have always been his mommy.
So really, April 29, 2009 was simply the day the State of Arizona finally caught up.
My husband and I are over the moon with joy to have our kids and we are blessed to be adoptive parents but we don’t make a big deal on adoption day. Every family is different and for some it is a day for a party and that is wonderful.
For us, it is a quiet day of thankful reflection. No party, no fuss. That may seem strange, but there are reasons.
For me personally, the pain of our journey through the foster care system remains and while that journey has a happy ending, I feel the welling in my chest as I think back on the struggle.
No, the filing of a piece of paper is not what I celebrate. I am happy and relieved to have it but it is not what I celebrate.
I reflect and I celebrate the moments I spent rocking my son as he attached to his new life.
I celebrate the dimples and the smiles and the energy and the laughter.
I celebrate the hundreds of times I read Brown Bear, Brown Bear as his tiny hand excitedly turned to the next page.
I celebrate all of the memories yet to be made.
I marvel at and celebrate the depth of the love I feel for this child God has blessed me with.
I celebrate the miracle of him.
April 29, 2009 is not the day Nathan became my son.
He was my son from the moment God placed the desire for him in my heart.
He was my son from the moment I first laid eyes on him and held him close to me.
He was to be my son from the moment he took his first breath.
But he is not my son alone. My son was not an orphan. My son has another mother. Barely more than a girl herself when he was born. My gain was her loss. I think about her today. I’ve thought about her all day. And I’ve prayed for her.
It has taken me a while to get to this place. A place of forgiveness and understanding. And while my heart is bursting with joy at being my boy’s mama, balloons and cake and celebration just don’t fit.
I think about the day he will ask me about adoption. The day his daddy and I will explain it to him. He is still too young to completely understand what it all means.
I want him to know that he came from her to me not because he was unwanted or because there was something wrong with him but because he is loved by a Heavenly Father who has a great plan for his life.
I want him to know that before he was her child or my child, he was His child.
I want him to know that he healed my broken heart.
I want him to know that it doesn’t matter that the color of his eyes, his skin, his hair are different from mine. He is my son and I am his mommy. God has made it so.
II want him to know how his sweet spirit and adventurous nature brought life back into our world. Just when we needed it most.
I want him to know how much his joy for life and laughter consume me.
I want him to know that I will always be his mommy.
I want him to know that he will be covered in my love and prayers.
Wherever he goes, whatever he does.
So while April 29th may be his adoption day, I want him to know that every day with him is a party and a cause for celebration!
Your mama loves you sweet boy. For ever and always. And I celebrate you Every-day.