There’s a new line through the final item on our adoption #2 list over to the right – Posy, is officially, legally ours.
After all the stress and anxiety of this adoption – the worries about whether we would get to keep Posy – it was a spectacularly anti-climatic event – we signed a couple of papers, the Judge asked the law guardian if she approved of the adoption plan (she did) and we promised to be Posy’s parents forever.
Then P’ito banged the gavel, and we took a bunch of pictures.
Tags: "real mommy", adoption openadoption birthfathers "open adoption"
Today, for the first time, P’ito said to us “You’re not my real mommies. You didn’t grow me.” And told us he was going to run away to Guatemala. Threw some food into a pillowcase, put his boots and his jackets on over his too-small footie pajamas, and walked outside into the snowy dark for about a minute.
Intellectually, I was prepared for it. Knew it was inevitable at some point. Had all sorts of supportive, affirming replies ready. No, we didn’t grow you, but we love you, and love makes a family, blah blah blah.
Emotionally? Sucker punch. Am still reeling, wondering if I said the right thing even as the cataract haze of high emotion makes my memory of exactly what I said grow too foggy to reproduce here.
I know it’s all normal: I just wasn’t expecting it to sting so much.