Fear

This entire process has brought me a lot up ups and downs, but also a lot of loops and twists when it comes to my emotions.

At times I'm so happy about what we're doing and so terribly excited for the day that I'll get to meet my other son for the first time.  For when he calls me mom for the first time.  For when he begins to consider MaKenzie and Liam his siblings.

But then there are also a lot of times when I feel terrified.  When I read on adoption website forums about how people who adopted older children bit off more than they could chew.  About how terribly bad it went.  When I see so many hateful and angry comments about white people adopting black children.  When I think about how hard this transition is going to be for him.

There are times I start to question everything.

When I'm afraid this is too big for our family.  For me.  When I wonder if I'm adult enough to handle all the hardships that are going to come.

But what it boils down to is faith and love.

I've always said that I think each woman is born with a certain amount of mothering in them.  And I've always said I wasn't born with a whole lot of it.  That's part of the reason why, for years, I thought we would only ever have two kids.

But then that dream happened, and a dozen other little things happened and suddenly I felt like that mothering place inside of me grew a little bit.  Which shocked me.  And I just knew.

It's not about race or saving some kid.  It's about family.

And that keeps me going through the fear and the doubts.