Today marks the anniversary of the adoption of our oldest son. It has been 3,285 days since the gavel of the Judge slammed down and our oldest son was declared as our legal and forever son; 3,285 days since I turned around and saw the tear-filled eyes of so many friends and family members watching our family become official, since I was able to fully exhale for the first time, and since all of us could truly visualize a future that included the little guy we had all fallen in love with.
We were just four months shy of the two-year mark of him being in our home when our adoption was granted. Some people have said, “Two years! I can’t imagine not knowing what will happen for that long.” Honestly, we feel pretty fortunate that it was only twenty months. We know cases that have lasted a lot longer with so much more risk involved. We don’t regret those twenty months. Instead, we are thankful for them.
During the twenty months of fostering him, we grew closer, more faithful and walked in the witness of the hardship of others. Words barely give justice for what it is like to completely put your heart out there for another little soul to whom you may or may not spend the rest of your life with.
We were not braver than others. We just knew that we had to finish the race we had started without knowing what the finish line would look like.
It has been 3,285 days since the last time I looked in his soft, brown eyes and wondered how long I would call myself his mommy; 3,285 days since I was declared his forever mom.
Three thousand, two hundred and eighty-five days since he became our son.
Love you bigger than outer space. Love you, forever.