In 2011, after many years of conversations, we sent up a prayer to be allowed the joy of adoption. My husband was 51, I was 39, our daughters were 11 and 8 years old. We were out of the diaper phase and almost out of the babysitter phase. But our hearts yearned for another child--and in particular, not one from my womb. (Note, I could have still had more children.)
Almost exactly a year later, our son Jack was placed in our arms.
The love that filled my heart was nearly overwhelming. Heady. Destabilizing. But, of course and on every single level of the most beautiful moments of my life. I could not imagine that life could hold such treasure for me.
We had some fun the next Halloween. Would we dress up as people who won the "Jack-pot?" Would we put Jack in a pot? Could we dress him in a gold jumper and say he was the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow?
How do you put into worlds the incredible luck? The incredible gift? The incredible sacrifice a young woman made? A sacrifice that fills me with earth shattering gratitude and love.
This year, our Jack turned 3 years old. He started preschool at a wonderful Montessori academy. He is cared for by amazing educators (like I mean amazing !) He is learning and growing and making friends. And, today he got to be a farm animal near the manger in the Christmas play . He sparkled on stage. Filled to the brim with excitement and pride of his accomplishment. I think I was a little more excited and a little more proud, perhaps :)
We are only three years into our adoption journey. I cannot even imagine what life would have been like if we did not make this choice. I am so grateful to all the people, and the universe itself, for the cosmic magic of allowing me to raise this child.
Dr Jillian Roberts