In my previous posts, I mostly spoke about the things we did and not too much about Brian. It is so difficult to put adoption into words.
When I was handed Brian for the first time, he couldn’t hold his head up. We laid him on the bed and he couldn’t push himself up with his arms. We wasn’t rolling over. With all the spare time we had, we worked and worked with him. It was amazing to see his progress in just a matter of days. Days where he didn’t lie in a crib for hours and hours on end. He gained weight rapidly because someone was holding him and cuddling him while he ate. No more propped bottles. We talked to him and he made eye contact with his. He cooed. Still, when we came home, he didn’t mind when we passed him around at church. He didn’t cry for us or even look around for us. That took time. I went out one day and Doug called me. Brian had cried when I left. I bawled then, because I knew my son had finally attached to me.

Was it love at first sight? No. Not on either end. The process of bonding took time, even with a five month old baby. He had never attached to anyone in his life. He didn’t know how to love. We taught him. The love came. It grew and grew and continues to grow. Still, to this day, I see marks on my son of the months he spent in an orphanage. Because this is private, I’d rather not say in such a public forum what they are, but a trained eye can see them.

Can you love an adopted child as much as a biological one? I’m not a biological mother, but my answer is YES! I can’t imagine loving a child more than I love Brian. He’s nearing adulthood now and trying his wings. As a mother who rejoiced when her son attached to her, it’s difficult to let go. There is a line we need to walk, a line between bonding and independence. I supposed all teens and their parents go through this, but I think it’s magnified within adoption.

I thank the Lord for closing my womb. His plans were better than mine. He brought me Brian and I’m thankful to him everyday for that.