Posterous theme by Cory Watilo

My Mother

We have been waiting a while for this baby now.  So long that those first few weeks of "Oh my God, this is real, she is real," feel like foggy, distant memories.  In real time, it was less than six months ago.

I always knew that my family supports adoption.  I have the kind of family in which you grow up thinking that you are as likely to adopt as you are to birth a child.  So I had no worries that my adoption would be met with fears and judgment over adoption itself.  But when my mom cried tears of joy, when she sounded so proud, I was not prepared for that.  She already loved this baby and this choice, it was like she had all along.  I believe Antonia, with her history, her background, her beautiful face, is the exact granddaughter my mother was waiting for.  It is humbling and feels so incredibly good.

Waiting, though, is not something my mother does well.  I assume that the people reading this know us.  But, if you don't, my mother is a 5 foot tall Portuguese-American woman.  And, she is ready to create an international incident.  I won't quote her, because I rather not visit my mother in jail.  Let's just say, it's a good thing she was raised on a farm, on an island, not in Washington where she might "know people."  She believes that we're at the point where military action, or other less government sanctioned methods, should be used to bring Antonia home.  She is right.  Thankfully, she is also incapable of orchestrating an international incident.  Or crime.  I think.