Sixteen Weeks

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I am ready to write again. We brought KJ home 16 weeks ago tomorrow. Sixteen weeks of interrupted sleep. Sixteen weeks to adjust from a family of 3 to a family of 4. Sixteen weeks of unnerving colicky screams that can even shock a seasoned doctor. Sixteen weeks watching a beautiful 8 pound baby blossom into a 15.6 pound bruiser that can lift his head, roll over, find his hands and coo the most adorable sounds you have ever heard.

Sixteen weeks to be told time and time again how great I look for having a newborn. Sixteen weeks to decide to just smile or tell the truth and then open myself to a litany of questions.

Sixteen weeks to begin to comprehend that as much as he looks like his brother, sixteen weeks to begin to accept that we will never see ourselves in his features. His blue eyes will not be mine and his long torso does not come from my husband. And while his hair might be red like his brother, HM, the similarity is skin deep.  Sixteen weeks to realize that none of this matters.

Sixteen weeks to begin to understand the depth and emotion that come with adoption. Sixteen weeks to know without question, he is our son, our rainbow, the baby we prayed, cried, and fought for.

Sixteen weeks to think about and finally a decision to start this blog with a goal to openly discuss  the journey of raising an adopted child along side a biological one with the hope that perhaps my sharing the mundane daily life of raising a very special baby may help others....or at the very least, provide some amusement.