It was just an email. Just one silly email. Ninety five words. And without it we wouldn’t be a family. Sometimes I think of that and I can’t bear it. Can’t bear the thought that ninety-five words were the difference between him being my son and us never meeting.
When you build your family through adoption you are infinitely aware of the fragility of life and love, and yes, even family. Family – that thing that should be a physically eternal presence in our life, but isn’t always. I have to believe though that in our hearts and in our souls there is a link. A forever link. I rocked Thane in my arms recently and talked about his other mother. I talked about love and souls and the link the five of us share: his other parents, Nate & I, him.
I still struggle with meant to be and Divine Plans and all of that. But love – love I’m good with. Love I can understand. Love brought us together. Maybe not because we were meant to be but because love finds a way to share itself, to replicate itself, to give itself. Maybe love creates the meant to be where there wasn’t one.
That email came out of frustration. We knew we had to leave our current agency. Things had reached a crisis point and there was no trust left in that relationship. I was broken. I’m not proud of that, but I was. Fourteen months and one dead baby can have that effect on you. The saying goes “hope deferred makes the heart sick.” And my heart felt sick. I was almost done. I thought maybe we were meant to just give all the money we were saving to charity. Give to help people start their own businesses and be able to provide for their family. Give to help fund clean drinking water programs. Just give. Give and just be a family of two forever. I look at that and know we would have had a great life. A wonderful, fulfilling life. But I’m also glad that life took a different path because that little boy is the sun and the moon and the stars.
I spent all the week before making our adoption profile. We were leaning towards switching to domestic adoption. Trying to find the courage to try again. So I was making our picture book up, the book that would be shown to expectant mamas who were considering adoption. I just ran across the files for it on my laptop. I couldn’t delete them. And while I made it I knew it wasn’t where my heart was, my heart was for some reason stuck on the other side of the world.
So I sent an email. Just one stupid email. To an agency I had forgotten about. Our second choice agency. The one we didn’t choose the first time around. I sent an email and told them about our immigration approval paperwork and our homestudy. I asked if they needed families. I asked, and then I forgot about it. And then the next day we got the email that changed everything. The email that talked about Thane, the email that led to a phone conversation, that led to a picture, that led to a baby boy lighting up my world with his dimples. Unreal. Unreal how something so insignificant could change so much. It scares me to think what would have happened if I hadn’t sent it. That one little email. That amazing child. We might have missed each other. Love is a crazy thing isn’t it? It took three people who didn’t share anything and made them a family.