First Month

 Sweet J. 

Legally, you've been placed with us for a month. Yesterday, your case moved from the Foster Care division to the Adoptions division of DCS, and today I spoke with your Adoptions worker for the first time. 

Since we first saw your photo in July, we've been waiting. To meet you. To hug you. To bring you home. To call you ours and to become yours. Today was another step along the path to legally solidifying you as part of our family forever. In July, my mind whirled at the thought of what it would be like to have you home, to enfold a one year old into our family unit. Today, I cannot imagine my life without you in it. 

You bring such light and love with you everywhere you go. You are as charming as you are stubborn, and I love that you want to ensure everyone hears your many opinions. As the littlest, I think it's your goal to be the loudest so everyone knows you're here. 

You're here, my boy. 

You're home. 

You are beloved. 

Love always,
Mama

In-Between

Loveliest daughter, 

These small, "in-between" days are the ones I sometimes forget or run out of time to write about. It's not a holiday, or a birthday, or a milestone. It's another day in a line of days that sometimes melt together, since they are often very similar to one another. This oddly interminable pandemic time passes in its own fashion - simultaneously at lightspeed while also at a snail's stodgy pace. And yet... you are growing and maturing so much. I think I get caught up staring so closely at things that I forget to take a step backwards and look at the whole of you. 

Your confidence is shining bright these days, love. Your joy is catching. It's silly, but your face has grown into your new adult front teeth and you are so unquestionably stunning. 

I was so struck the other night, when I was in your room to sing songs and wish you goodnight. I got such a strong sense of YOU; your heart and your spirit. You are formed. You are preciously and uniquely yourself, and adult E is already there in your heart, growing and learning, but present all the same. It's never been more clear to me that Mom and I are merely your guides. 

Now that you are eight and in third grade and have your own room, we are seeing more and more of your choices and preferences coming out. Your nightstand is a carefully cultivated space of intention. I love looking at your nightstand. And your bookshelves. Knowing that you've chosen the things and you've chosen the way that they are arranged is a small but amazing joy I'm finding for the first time. Your alarm clock. Your lamp with the rope and the pink sea glass. Your little woven runner - where did this even come from? Your horse figurines. Bookmarks. A pair of fashion glasses. A stack of carefully piled books. A plush shark toy. 

Darling girl. My greatest hopes for you are that you dance along this bright path all your days, with your chin to the sunshine and an ocean breeze playing through your curls. You are loved. You are cherished. You are deserving of all the joy you can find.

Love always,
Mama

Four

Four years ago, you entered this world and although I'd carried you for ten months, I couldn't wait to know you. Yesterday was the anniversary of your birth, and while I feel that I know you to the marrow of my bones, you often still have me shaking my head in amazement.

You are an utterly fascinating creature, my C.

Quietly proud. Strong. Unapologetically honest. Brave. Curious. Uncommonly self-aware. Compassionate. Loving. Stoic. Introverted. Humorous. Intelligent. Stubborn. Persistent.

Just as in the year you were born, the wildflowers are beginning to bloom. I love that they will mark the beginning of every year of your life, my wild child.

You are in Montessori preschool right now. You are drawn to figuring out how things work, discovering new plants and insects and animals in our beautiful desert landscape. Your imagination is wonderfully inventive, and I love playing with you in the worlds of your own creation. You are a self-proclaimed "cat guy" and you adore animals. You're learning to ride horses, and I'm betting that this will be the year that you say goodbye to the training wheels on your bike. I think you may enjoy cooking as you grow up, because you certainly enjoy helping to bake and cook and assemble your lunches! I've even been letting you cut your own vegetables and fruit with a knife, and you're working on peeling potatoes - it's hard work for small hands. I can always count on your help when I am sewing, and you are so proud of the hand-sewing you bring home from school!

I don't know many things for absolute certain. But one of them is that I am here on this earth to love and nurture and support you as you grow. You and your sister are incredible people and it's an honor to be chosen to help guide you as best I can.

May you always walk a path of love. I hope for your own sake that it has many challenges, and sometimes it will seem that it's in darkness or too difficult to keep going, but always know that I am with you. Every night I tuck you into bed with Captain Sea Salt, the plush cat toy that I sewed for you, and I remind you that if you feel lonely, every stitch of him was sewn specially for you with my love. My heart is in your heart. My hand is in your hand. I don't have to be near you to be with you; always.
Love,
Mama

The Photographer

Today I bore witness to some dear friends' adoption of their second child. These friends are pretty fantastic people, and we've adored them for a long time. But as tends to happen in adult friendships, once we no longer played rugby together, we saw them with decreasing frequency. The adoration remained. Over the years, we've seen them infrequently but always were reminded at each reunion how much we cherish the relationship.

Now these friends have two kids, and we have two kids. Since becoming mothers, we've seen each other way more often and it's been amazing. To hold each other's babies and watch our children begin to develop their own friendships is nothing short of awesome.

And today, I was honored to photograph the adoption of that second cherished baby. I was privileged to photograph the first adoption, too, and after going through hundreds of photos of their friends and family all gathered together to celebrate this small, new family, I am struck.

I am struck by their village.

Everywhere I turned, there were outstretched hands. Little chubby beckoning fingers. Older, calloused fingers carefully guided the gripping fists of an almost-walker. Growing teenaged hands tossed babies and cuddled toddlers and pointed at words in a book.

All shapes and sizes and colors and ages were there to show their love and support for this growing family. If I didn't already know them, I wouldn't even be 100% sure which children belonged to whom, or who the grandparents or aunts or uncles or family friends were. That's the most beautiful part of all.

I can only hope to translate their love for one another through my lens. I hope to do them justice. I hope they can feel my love and admiration for them.