Omi arrived this weekend and Austin couldn't be happier. Either could Omi.
But it wasn't always like this.This is a picture I thought I might never take. You see, when I first began talking to my mom about adoption, she made her feelings about the subject known to me, and they weren't pretty. They were pretty awful. And hurtful. As time went on, I learned that much of her feelings were generated by fear, mostly fear that things wouldn't work out and I would be devastated. So in some sort of twisted maternal protective strategy, she did all she could to persuade me not to pursue adoption. Plus, she had some pretty backward notions about the whole thing. But I would not be dissuaded. And as luck would have it (more likely, Divine intervention) Mom was here visiting when Austin was born. She was with us at the hospital when we brought him home. And I'm pretty sure Austin had her wrapped around his little finger long before the elevator made it down to the hospital lobby. It was love at first sight for all of us. These days, mom denies having ever said anything negative about adopting. I think most days she even forgets that we did adopt a child, she thinks he fits in so perfectly, he just belongs. I couldn't agree more. And so when Austin ignores me in favor of more cuddles from Omi, or mom calls and asks how "her" baby is doing, I just smile. The power of love is a pretty special thing. It can erase a whole lot of ugliness, heal some big hurts and build a pretty wonderful family.