This is an actual photo of my dad. My real dad. The one who loved me my while life –that one.
My kids are asking questions about “my real parents” lately because they more fully understand the concept now that we have these two kids calling me mom who also have this “other mom” who loves them and is working hard to get them back.
And I think they try to draw parallels that aren’t really there. But in some ways they are…
So I can see why they are confused. It’s confusing.
And in the last few months they have asked a lot of specific questions about our process and have learned some troubling things:
They learned that I had a baby in my belly after Dean was born that didn’t live.
They learned that this happened twice.
They learned that trying to have a third baby almost killed me.
They learned that I lived with my first mom for 6 weeks (that’s almost 2 whole months!).
And they learned that my name was Jennifer when I was born.
It’s a lot to take in.
And I get it. And helping them navigate my birth and adoption is helping them better understand the situation we are going through with the little ones.
Even though it is different, it is also the same.
Here’s the thing though, and the subject of the post.
Not too much discussion about dad(s). They seem to just focus on mom and me. And my moms and me.
And one of the things I am surest about in this whole drama is that these kiddos will be winning big in the dad department.*
Not just because their birth dad is a despicable human being but because the man they call daddy is AWESOME. Yeah, he is flawed but he is Filled with love for these kids. And his conviction lasted a whoooooole lot longer than mine did on this whole carousel ride.
They became his a long time ago. No questions asked.
And being his? It’s pretty effing awesome.
They are really lucky for that.
So here’s to dad. And dads. And all the people they love and love them.
Just one of the things I am thankful for this year.
* I am no longer adding if to my sentences. It is a decision I have made to help me keep my sanity. Ending and beginning every sentence with “if we keep them,,,” is just too hard.