Happy Birthday, Daniel

My son is 17 today.  He’s very nearly a grown man.  How could that have happened so soon?

I dreamed last night that I had come across a piece of his baby clothing.  I laid it on my shoulder and looked in the mirror to remind myself of how small he had once been. 

I woke up remembering him as a baby.

You may have read elsewhere that all four of our children were adopted.  I’m keenly aware of how unlikely it was that I would even be his mother.  I”m so glad that all things worked together so that we have been the ones to enjoy the privileges and responsibilities of watching him grow up, if it could not be his birthmother.

We first heard about the existence of Daniel when his birthmother was just a few months pregnant.  A friend of ours put in a good word for us, but she had decided to work with an agency.

Months later, I got a phone call from my friend.  Call them.  She’s not happy with the agency.

I ended up talking with Daniel’s birthmother until 3:00 a.m.  We met her and her older son on Saturday.  I held my breath on Mother’s Day.  I hoped against hope that he wouldn’t be born on Mother’s Day for her sake.  I wanted her to have a separate day to reflect on his birth.

On Wednesday, I got a call asking me if I was ready.  I met his birthmother and aunt at the hospital, and was there from the very first contraction on (she was induced). 

After the nurse, I was the first one who held him.  It was a wonderful experience until then.  After that, things got a little strange.  The hospital had no experience with a totally open adoption.  We didn’t fit their rules and regulations.

The nurse closed the blinds while we tried to watch his first bath.  At first, we couldn’t get information on him.  Later, we worked it out to see him in the nursery.  And then after his birthmother signed the papers, they wouldn’t give her any information on him.  We upset their apple cart.

But on the day the attorney came and we were all in one room together, I noticed that more than just we had teary eyes.  I can’t remember how many times I heard, “This is so wonderful,” that day.

The nurse in the nursery told me that I would have no problems with Daniel.  He was an easy baby.

Her words could not have been more true.  He ate well, slept well, and was contented.  What a joy!

One of my favorite pictures of Daniel is of a young child, in his bathing suit, concentrating on an ice cream dasher full of homemade ice cream.  Another favorite is of him holding his baby sister Lydia.  They were both asleep.

He’s always been a great brother, very protective of his little sisters.  In many ways, he’s been more like the oldest than his older sister.

I admire him so much.  He’s a deep thinker.  He’s very responsible with his animals.  He’s persuaded by reason.  He thinks about his life to come.  He once asked what would be a good career for him that would allow him the time to homeschool his kids.  Wow.

So here I am, celebrating Daniel’s birthday.  He’s probably looking more forward to calzone and stromboli (his pick) for dinner, and the cheesecake his father made at midnight last night more than anything else. 

I’m just looking forward to being part of his life for many years to come.