this week i went back to work for two mornings.  while i was there, i announced to the group of moms and dads and nannies that bring their kids to my library programs that I’d spent the last six weeks getting to know my newly adopted son.  I passed around a brag book of photos and everyone oohed and ahhed over how cute he was and extended their heartfelt congratulations to me.  I also had some wonderful and unexpectedly deep conversations with a few people about how adoption has touched their lives.  One mother told me that she’d been adopted as an infant and then she went on to tell me how her adoptive father had died in a car accident when she was 18 months old and her mother didn’t re-marry until she was 13 years old and then her mother passed away when she was 20 (I think) and so now the only relative she has is her stepfather who never even legally adopted her, but whom she feels enormously close to.  She told me that hearing my story (and she really only got the tiniest highlights!) made her heart swell and made her get all teary-eyed (which might also be due partially to the fact that she has a newborn with the exact same birthday as Baby Dude!).  Another mother approached me, all excited, and said, “I heard you adopted your baby from Texas?  We adopted our daughter from Texas too!”  I had no idea this child was adopted and it was so nice to talk to another mother who has at times felt like they “slip under the radar” because their daughter looks enough like them that people assume she’s biologically theirs.

I sort of feel like I’ve just joined a secret club and now that I’m “in” all of the members are revealing themselves to me.  i never seem to get tired of hearing other peoples’ adoption stories…. they’re all so different and yet ring so familiar at the same time.  I wonder if there’s a secret handshake?