I have my grandfather’s nose.
I have my dad’s teeth and his smile.
I have my mom’s hands (and knees as you already know).
They are identifying genetic factors that have been passed down in our family from generation to generation —they tie us together.
And today I can easily say what I couldn’t say then…..
Part of the reason that made it so hard for me to jump from infertility treatments to adoption was all about looks.
Now for those reading who instantly want to tell me to stop being so vain you can go right ahead.
I knew it and that was part of my struggle.
I was embarrassed that this was the way I was feeling because it shouldn’t matter. It’s not what being a parent is all about.
I had a hard time expressing my fears —because I was terrified of being judged for it.
I was sad that by not having a biological child that he or she wouldn’t have my eyes, Kipp’s nose, my mother’s hands or my dad’s and my smile.
But sometimes you just can’t help how you feel.
And if you stop and think for a moment about how the first thing most people do when they see a baby is say, “Does he/she look more like you or your husband?” —then maybe you’ll understand where I am coming from.
And since then I’ve grown.
I remember once (long ago before I ever tried to have children) I told a friend that her son was 100% her husband….she almost burst in to tears right then and there.
I didn’t mean to hurt her.
I felt terrible and there was nothing I could do to take it back.
But her son really was the spitting image of her husband—and it bothered her that his face showed no visual presence of her genes.
So long story short— I came to terms with the fact that our child might not look like either one of us and that that would be ok.
Because our story wasn’t going to be in our looks.
Our story was going to be in the journey.
So when The Boy’s birth mother told me that she looked like she could be my sister I laughed…..really?
And when I met her I was amazed—she really did look like me –our features were very similar.
I never expected it to work out this way.
And then there’s the boy…..I’ll never forget the time that I was walking down the street with him a couple of years ago and a random woman stopped me.
“He’s all you and he’s gorgeous.” She said.
“Thank you.” I said as I laughed to myself.
“I hope your husband’s ok with that.” She added as she walked away.
And there you have it—even strangers are compelled to compare a child’s looks to his or her parents.
And now, when people tell me that The Boy has my smile, I simply say thank you.
I know that he has his birthmother’s smile (and someday he will too).
However…… I just might be the reason he smiles so much.
Love much,
xob
