Do you wonder...

...if, by having an adopted child you won't feel like a 'real parent'? Has that thought ever crossed your mind? It did for me.

I wondered what it would feel like to have a child that looked nothing like me.  Now, I must preface this by saying that my husband is African-American, so the chances of any biological child we had looking anything like my Irish self was slim to none.  As my husband says, "Those genes (the African ones) are STRONG."

We will never know what our biological kids would have looked like, and guess how much time I give to that thought? Zero.  Nada.  Rien.  I never think about it.  Why? Because my children, the ones that are sitting in our family room watching "Sofia the First" are my children.  I never think about biological children because these children are mine. God created them for my husband and me, and, as far as I'm concerned that's all that matters.

When I look at each of them I think, "I cannot believe that you didn't come from my body."  They look like my husband, and they act like me.  Shocking, I know.

I hear from potential adoptive families, particularly women, that they wonder what it will feel like to parent someone else's child.  Guess what? That child that comes in to your home is YOUR child.  In the adoption world, in their lingo, it's called "Claiming."  I don't like that expression because it makes it sound like your child is a possession, an object to hide and keep away from the biological parents (there's a whole other post about biological parents coming) or anyone who might possibly be connected to them.

A child is a gift.  There is comfort in saying, "This child is MY child."  Just because I say that doesn't mean that our child doesn't also belong to, or isn't also a part of, the biological parents.  It's just to say that I am this child's mom.  There is a lot of pride in that sentiment.

A person learns a lot through adoption.  You learn to be okay with the vague and the unknown.  Instead of being able to plan things out, you have to fly by the seat of your pants a little bit.  Sometimes you know for a long time that your child is coming; other times, you get a call at the last minute.

Whatever the case, your child was yours long before you ever knew it.