Adoption IS a child "of my own"

The other night I was talking to a co-worker about our latest adoption.  He congratulated me and then mentioned that he and his wife want another child but may not be able to conceive.  He has thought about adoption but the idea that the child would not be a child "of his own" bothered him.  I understood he meant that in the biological sense and I tried to explain the beauty of adoption.  (If you're reading this, I wasn't offended but it gives me a platform for discussion.)

I'm the mother of two beautiful girls - one through pregnancy and the other through adoption.  I consider myself lucky to have experienced both and it's hard to describe the similarities, yet differences, between both ways of adding to the family. 

I wasn't a happy pregnant person.  I gained 65 pounds, waddled everywhere and was generally grumpy - definitely not one of the "cutely pregnant" women I envied.  I also couldn't work as a police officer and so had to spend almost the entire pregnancy on "light duty" doing various administrative duties at the police department.  I've always had a hard time dealing with desk work and this was no exception.   But the reward at the end of the painful process - a beautiful, blonde-haired baby named Anna that to this day I can't seem to kiss enough.

When we adopted Julia we went through paperwork hell - not physically painful like the pregnancy, but painful nonetheless.  The adoption process from China slowed down considerably and what we thought would only be a six-month wait to be matched turned into a 2 1/2 year wait.  Some adoptive parents use the term "paper pregnant" and it's true.  Once you know your future child is out there - may even already have been born - the wait takes on a life of its own and the anticipation/agony builds while you wait for your agency to call you.

Then one day the magic call happens - all of a sudden you know there is a precious 11-month-old baby girl out there waiting for you to come pick her up and bring her home.  You get photos of her and a description that tells you she loves to laugh and is very extroverted.  You just know, from that moment forward, that the child in the picture is yours and you can't wait to bring her home.  You send her toys, a blanket and family photos for her caretakers to show her. 

Four months later all of the immigration paperwork is finally completed.  You take the excrutiatingly long flight to China, all the while hoping your new child won't be too traumatized but also looking forward to the day when you can finally hold her instead of just looking at a well-worn photo.    
Finally the day arrives - a scared, timid baby is placed in your arms at the civil affairs office and your arms and heart are now full.  This is your daughter.  That was our daughter. 

As I've mentioned before, it's been three years since Julia was placed in our arms in the civil affairs office in Zhengzhou, China.  It's amazing to us how seamlessly she has become a part of our family and the fact we don't share the same genes is just a technicality.  My parents and sister always say it feels like she's always been with us and it's true.  She just fits in that well with us. 

When I look at her I don't see a person different from us.  She IS "us."  I do recognize her Chinese heritage and I hope I can help her grow up proud of being Chinese and to realize that it's OK to be a little different. 

She wasn't born in my tummy, but she was truly born in my heart.  

Time to go to bed and dream about the little boy/girl that is halfway around the world waiting for us.