it’s sinking in still

This still doesn’t seem real. I’ve waited for this moment for so long – waited to meet this child whose face I’ve studied in pictures. And now he’s here and it still seems too good to be true. Even when I had pee dripping down my back, even when my shirt stinks of spit up and my pants have hardened drops of formula. It still doesn’t seem quite real. I’m running out of words that mean "happiness".

M (2)


a boy and his daddy

I love watching Nate care for Thane.  He’s gentle and kind, and has immense amounts of patience.  I will never forget these early days of parenting together.  Being together in Thane’s room.  The lights off, the nightlight on, the turtle Gigi and Papa gave us beaming stars and a moon on too the ceiling.  Precious.

jan 30

I will never forget the way Thane looks at Nate.  The way Nate looks at Thane.  My two handsome men.  Together at last.

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We love you Thane.  You’ve made our family infinitely more beautiful.

jan 30 (1)


random stream of memories

Rocking with him, feeling his body relax into my arms. Looking into his eyes while he drinks his bottle. The happiness, it overflows. I’m lost in the realization and wonder of getting to know this human being who I love more than words can say.

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He seems to relax the most when all three of us are together. It’s like he needs to know that everyone who takes care of him is present. If I see him tensing up we go and find Daddy and his smiles and coos make everything right.

L (1)

Today I find it interesting that he responds to my husband and I when we come in the room but not to my parents (who have done a beautiful job of staying behind the scenes. It’s good that he sees us as something different. He’s starting to understand that we are the ones who take care of him. He expects that. I don’t suffer any delusions that he knows we’re mommy and daddy or that he instantly trusts us. But the bonds of connection are starting to form and for that I breathe a prayer of thankfulness.

L (2)

adoption, Uncategorized


Seven months ago this week we first received pictures of the sweetest baby boy I’d ever seen – our Thane. Since then I’ve looked at his pictures first thing every morning and the last thing every night. That I now get to hold him, love on him, see him every morning and every night is a gift I will forever cherish.

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This afternoon Mom and I ran an errand while he was napping. Wow, I missed him. But I needed something warmer for him to sleep in as sleepers don’t work with his body type. My arms felt that old ache that they did through this entire adoption process. This feeling of something missing.

When we arrived back home Daddy had him in the nursery window. I smiled and waved, and at first he didn’t see me. Then he did, and much to my surprise a smile broke over his face, he did his delightful arm waving and all was excitement. Daddy and he met me at the door. Bliss.

H (2)


of blocks and babies

These last months I’ve watched my baby grow up in pictures.   But now, suddenly, he’s three dimensional.


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I let my fingers trace his head, his fingers, his feet and am amazed at how I can see every part of him at once, no trying guess what is happening outside of the picture.  I know.  He’s here.  He’s real.  He’s my son.


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As for his dimples, they simply slay me. I had no idea he had them (they hadn’t shown in any of the update pictures we’ve received) so when I first saw them in the airport my heart melted a little more.


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My mom said that when my oldest sister was born and they were wheeling her out of the hospital she kept looking around, waiting for someone to say “oh no, we were just kidding, we’re not really going to let you take that baby home.”

I’m twelve years older than my mom was then but I have the same feeling. It’s incomprehensible that all the planning, the paperwork, the seemingly endless waiting will all collide tomorrow and he’ll be here. With us.

And though Mom and I took different paths to first-time-motherhood ,at the end of the day it comes down to one moment. The moment where someone you barely know hands you a child and you become a mother.