Last night I got to go out to dinner with my mom, sister, daughter and niece. We were celebrating my birthday as well as my girl's. It was so nice to talk, dote over Seble, and enjoy a meal that none of us ladies had to cook.
The highlight of the night, in a way, was when we were leaving the restaurant. In the parking lot we came across two sisters that we knew from school growing up. They of course doted more over Seble, and then the younger sister asked a question that I could tell she was nervous to ask.
"Um, how is it, or, is it... Is the love different? I mean, is it different than having your own?"
It was such a beautiful question. These are the questions that I am so glad that people will ask. It's a brave question, and she approached it nervously, not wanting to offend. She explained that she and her husband have been talking about adoption, and this was something that has come up in their minds.
Just so you know, I believe that it is a very fair question.
It's a question that seems very odd to me because my whole experience as an adopted child proves that there isn't a difference in the attachment and love that my mother has for me and my sister.
But if you don't have any adoption experience, this is a real and legitimate question.
My sister answered that there wasn't. She told this childhood school mate that there was some nervousness on the part of her husband in this very respect, but he has discovered, like every adoptive parent, that the love for his new baby girl is just as great and boundless as for his other five children.
I'm glad I was there for that. My mom put her arm around me and kissed me on the cheek, and said, "They just don't know." I just smiled. My prayer is that someday she can know, if that's what God has put on the hearts of herself and her husband.
The experience is different. To say otherwise would be untruthful. Instead of an ultrasound, there is a referral picture or moment that you cling to as you wait. Instead of knowing your child intimately through kicks and flutters, you wait and hope and pray. Instead of laboring to deliver, you wait anxiously and are given a gift that is a great sacrifice. The end result? Same love. God just built the love differently.