At first I felt silly that I forgot that my son was adopted, and then it occurred to me why.
The other day I forgot that my three year old son is adopted. Honestly, I just plum forgot! I was looking at a picture of myself of when I was a child that, to me anyway, looks amazingly like my adopted son. I proudly showed the photo to everyone who would take a peek. In the meantime, I would go on and on about how he looks like my side of the family, has the same hair color as I did at his age, similar features, and so on.
Finally it hit me – he’s adopted! At first I felt silly at how I had gone on about the resemblance. Obviously everyone else knew he was adopted and I felt sheepish that I was dotting on my son like a . . . like a . . . mother. Like a mother! That is the beautiful thing about a mother’s love. A mother’s love sees the heart and soul of her child, not whose blood is coursing through his or her veins.
Adoption is like labor and delivery, it is hard work! Anyone who believes that adopting is easier than childbirth has never had the two to compare to each other. I have been blessed enough to experience both and, in my humble opinion, childbirth is way easier.
However, like a mother who has struggled through hours of pain to finally have it give way to joy, the turmoil of the adoption journey does fade away in light of the beautiful child you then call your very own. You forget the pain, and what you do remember makes your love for him that much stronger.
So it is no wonder that I forgot that my dear little boy was adopted because he is very much mine.
