Eddie boy. The Edster. Easy E. Little dude. Pumpkin.
This month has been a big one for Eddie. Two teeth and crawling like a champ. My life has changed a lot in the last couple of days. I have pulled tape, streamers and lint out of his mouth. The funny thing is I sweep twice a day, but that kid has a knack for finding stuff. Combined with the fact that George will no longer stand a swaddle, but can't settle himself quite yet and Lute is in constant negotiations for more TV time - it's been a busy week in mamaland. Sometimes I just laugh out loud and I am pretty sure they all think I am going crazy.
But in it all my heart sometimes feels like it might burst with gratitude for my three little gifts. When we were preparing to adopt a baby, and in the weeks following bringing Eddie home, there were so many questions and concerns we had about how to make him feel "normal". Would we connect in the same way that we did with Lute? Would he feel like the odd kid out growing up? We tried to theorize what life with an adopted kid should be like.
I have hesitated sharing what the "after" has been like, not really sure how to put our experience into words. But the truth is, it all feels so natural. Yes, I feel differently about Eddie than I do Lute. I feel differently about Lute than I do George. No one could have really made me understand - but parents with more than one kid probably know what I am saying. You love all of your kids equally, but it really is different. My affinity for Eddie is infinite.
And yet not a day goes by that I don't think about his birthmother. Does she think about him everyday? Does she wait for updates? Does she wonder what milestones he has hit? It makes my heart ache with empathy. Knowing the connection one has with their baby, I can't imagine what it must be like for her. Would she rather know or not know all of the things that he is experiencing? I don't know if it will always be like that, wondering everyday about her, but right now I do.
People have such different reactions when they hear that we've adopted. We have to tell the story to almost everyone as we watch them try to do the math in their heads over the spacing of the boys. ("Now how did that happen...?") Some might tell us he is lucky to have us. Most tell us we have our hands full (hello, Captain Obvious.). Here is the deal: we are absolutely beyond words changed and blessed and forever in debt for the amazing gift that he is in our lives. I don't think he's lucky, I think we are.
So all of our theorizing is just that. Who knows what normal is anyway? He's my kid and I love him. I can't imagine one second of my life without him in it. I love going in to get him from his nap and seeing that ecstatic grin on his face. I love his exuberance in his Jumperoo and watching him try to stuff 18 cheerios in his mouth at once. He is ours now and forever, and we couldn't be happier.