Yesterday, millions of Americans self-induced themselves into a turkey-coma. It was a glorious day for eating and merriment. And, as one of my friends recently said, it's a holiday with a unique place in our culture since it has no religious element or political element to divide us (at least, not overtly); it's just the food that brings us together.
Yesterday was also my birthday. Woohoo! (Gosh, I'm now squarely in my MID-thirties.) It's about time that it was recognized as a national holiday... :)
The thing about birthdays and adoption is that emotionally speaking, they are a weird, mixed bag. Not my birthday so much as much as the birthdays of our eventual kids. This fall, one of the two kids we are planning to adopt had his birthday. Ann and I were struck with some mixed emotions about this. On one hand, we wanted to celebrate this little guy, even from far away, and look forward to next year when, hopefully and God-willing, he will be blowing candles out at our kitchen table.
On the other hand, a birthday means another year has come and gone with him still celebrating - if he even did - in an orphanage. And not with us. And very far away. And so, we weren't quite sure how to feel. I think in the end, we felt determined to continue our process, and to fight every day for one more box to be checked, one more form to be completed, one more task to be done that gets us one step closer to him and to them and to the adoption being completed.
I don't want this little boy to celebrate another birthday without us. I want to bring him and his sister home. I want his birthday to be a special day that is a part of our family forever.
But for now, I have to wait.