Photo Courtesy of Signature Studio.
Every birthday makes me nostalgic and sad. There's a lot of "remember when she was tiny" going on in my house. Mostly, I'm still just amazed.
Yesterday was my daughter's third birthday. Today marks the three year anniversary of when we met and when I became a mother.
Three years ago today, I didn't know I was going to be a mom. My husband and I had gone through years of research and after two failed adoptions, I began to assume that I wasn't meant to be a parent. And that would have been ok.
When I say "failed adoption" people react poorly because they don't get it. But, we have to remember that adoption is tricky. For me to become a mother, someone else had to lose their child. It's not easy. I realized early on when we began meeting with birth families that lots of these people were competent parents who had been convinced otherwise and some of them have since made great parents.
I have been talking about adoption a lot more lately and have enjoyed sharing my family's story to help educate others about the unique nuances of being a transracial family and to ensure that other people understand adoption and its intricacies.
Three years ago, I was binge watching something on Netflix. It was snowing like crazy. My husband had traveled 45 minutes away to do some work. Then, I got a call. When I saw the director of the adoption agency on my phone, I was confused. We had just spoken the week before and had discussed that I wasn't sure what our next steps were.
She said a birthmother liked us, completed paperwork, and we had a daughter to come and get.
Some people have nine months to get used to the fact that they're going to be parents. I had nine seconds.
Birthdays mean a lot to each of us for different reasons. As parents, we often get sad that our kids are growing up. I'm just grateful that my daughter's mother chose us to help her grow up into the amazing, curious, smart, and energetic kid she's becoming.