I, like many of you, followed the news closely about the shooting in Newtown on the day it happened. I managed to be okay for the most part that day, following the developments closely, but not in tears. Did I want to hug my kids close? Yes. But still I was okay, emotionally removed from the horror. Able to go about my day, knowing my babies were safe.
Until I read this post @ Adoption in the City
I've said before that one of the reasons open adoption is so important to us is because we want the boys' birth families to know that they're okay. More than that, we adamantly believe they have a right to that.
I can't imagine not knowing. And not just when something like Newtown happens, but all the time. The walking down the street, not knowing if the little kid in front of you might be yours. Or reading about a kid in the paper who has won some kind of award and wondering. Seeing a child on the news died somehow and the punch to the gut, terrified that it's your child. How painfully hard it must be to wonder. The strength it takes to do that. The strength it takes to live that every day.
It often hits me the different ways adoption is hard. But, this way, it's just not one I'd thought about. I hope the boys' birth families know that if something awful happened to either of them, we would let them know right away.
The night of the shooting, when I finally got home from work, I went into my sons' rooms, as I always do. Only this time when I pulled their covers up and kissed their sleeping heads, I did it not just for me, but for their birth families as well. I whispered that all of their parents love them, because it is what I know to be true.
Today's Lesson: The lessons we're presented with in life never stop. There are always more lessons to be learned.