Having a baby through adoption is different than having a biological baby. For one thing, you don’t have a baby growing inside your wife for nine months so you don’t get attached to the baby as it develops in the womb. How will you instantly love this little person right after birth when you have never even experienced so much as feeling a kick, hearing the heartbeat, watching your wife’s belly (and baby) grow or sensing the anxiety about what you will do when your wife’s water breaks.

It is also different because the baby is genetically different than you and will not have your nose or her eyes or anyone’s hair. To make matters worse, you have no insight or control over his inherited medical issues. People will be able to see that this is not your baby. He is not made up from parts of you and therefore you have no biological or natural claim to it. 

Although I knew that whatever baby came into our life, that was the baby we were meant to have and raise, I still had these fears and thoughts about adoption. I thought when a baby was born, that I would have a detached sense of responsibility towards him that would over time grow into love. I also wondered if I would ever feel like he was truly my son since I had not created him and he was not biologically part of me. 

When I met the birth parents five weeks before Andrew was born, I was surprised at the similar personalities, educational backgrounds, career paths and ethnic heritage. This proved to solidify my belief that Andrew truly was the baby that we were meant to raise. The ethnic similarities gave me confidence that he would have similar features to my wife and me and allayed my concerns that he would not be biologically or genetically ours. The parallel personalities, educational backgrounds and career paths were eerily alike and made me think that I might have it all wrong. In essence, it was as if God was saying to make you believe that I have selected this child for you, I will show you traits of yourself in the birth parents. 

Andrew at 1 Day Old

We were in the waiting room during the delivery. Once Andrew was born, the nurse brought us back to meet him. As I saw him through the glass of the window of the nursery, my heart dissolved. That was MY son I was looking at. Immediately, our futures flashed before my eyes and I saw pictures of him crawling, talking, cheerios and goldfish, pumpkin carvings, playing catch in the back yard, going camping, his first date, his first car (panic attack), graduation, Halloween costumes, Christmas, and him growing up to be an old man. I didn’t have to wait for the love to grow over time; I was already in love. 

We were fortunate in that, we were given our own private room at the hospital. Andrew stayed with us in our room and the doctors and nurses came to talk to us about whatever needed to be discussed or decisions needed to be made. It made us feel as if we were the ones who had given birth. 

Andrew at 10 Weeks Old

Now, 11 weeks later, I love him with all my heart and there is no question in my mind that he is MY son just as if I had created him.