extremes

My experience has lead me to feel things in extremes.

Slow down and savor. Longing fulfilled. Smitten. How I love this little boy! Kisses. Snuggles. Perfection.

What it took to find him. To know which way to proceed. When to say yes and when to say no. How much to risk. How long to wait.

A winding series of events and decisions. Weary. Nearly hopeless.

Then why does it surprise me that the pendulum again swings. It doesn't stay long on that painful side. But it's there.

I have more than I could ever have imagined.

Yet

I'm angry.

Two souls surely as adorable and smart and spunky lie frozen.

They are his sisters or brothers.

Doesn't someone else deserve what we've found? Should we be so selfish to keep the joy to ourselves?

Will he resent growing up as an only child? Will he somehow miss out on his youth without a partner in crime?

And the expense. At what cost? That's what it comes back to. And not just the money.

They aren't ours. But not quite not ours.

It's this strange limbo that I find difficult to explain.

Where will they land? With whom? When? Will they survive the thaw? Will they implant? Will baby boy get to meet them? Will they look like him?

Heavy, hazy irresolution causes waves of emotions that I don't have words for. Possibilities. Knowing what is best. Finding ways to make peace.

A wound that is no longer open but still covered with stiff and painful scar tissue. More healing to come.

[auguat 2016]

traveling

There aren't as many updates these days. We're enjoying our life we waited so long for. 

But there are still subtle variations to our family that we wouldn't otherwise have if not for embryo adoption. 

Like our relationship with Baby Boy's genetic family. 

It is interestingly difficult, still, for some people to understand. 

I really don't think we're crazy, and only time will tell how Baby Boy feels about all of this. But we are accepting our story and his origins as normal. Just another part of him along with every other detail about him. 

I truly believe by us being transparent and matter of fact, he will have a better opportunity to not feel less or unwanted or like he's part of an unspeakable secret. 

He's Baby Boy. Son of Sara and D. Genetically originating from his West Coast family who love him very much and gave him a chance at life. And he likes dogs. And balls. And food. Oh, does this boy like food! He doesn't like sleeping by himself. He's initiative and detailed and compassionate. 

So there's that. 

And people don't understand why we have the contact we do with his West Coast family. 

"Didn't you just see them?"

Doesn't baby boy grow and change every day. His hair is thicker and lighter. He walks and runs and climbs and kicks and throws. He has a new word or two every day. He delights in life. He's a ham. Does one visit a year capture that? Should he remain frozen in time as a baby to them? He's a different child every week and sometimes day to day as he learns and grows. 

And beyond that, does anyone question any other person meeting up with their friends? Isn't that what humans do? Have contact to maintain relationships? Because we have a relationship with his West Coast family outside of why we originally met. 

We love them. The parents and kids alike are like extended family to us. We want to see them and hang out. 

People meet in all sorts of ways. Is this any different than meeting as neighbors or online or at church or if our kids were in class together? 

Yeah it might be more untraditional but it's not inherently wrong. Why does anyone have the relationships they do in their life? Because they chose to. And (hopefully) it's a beneficial relationship of give and take and fellowship and support. 

So those are thoughts two years past our match and transfer (and birth).