this post is brought to you by the number 5, and the letter B

Sunday marked five months since our G&R. Wow. As hokey as it may sound, I feel as if Bex has always been here, and I almost can't believe that I can say that. Our first weeks together were incredibly difficult. All of the adjustments surrounding a new addition to the family are profound, but in our case the issues had less to do with being overwhelmed new parents and more to do with the wee one's grief. He loved his nannies, one in particular. When we left for the G&R she waited until she thought I couldn't see her and then collapsed into a sobbing heap on the floor. As we set about the process of getting to know our son, I longed for a sense of connection. I prayed that he would one day have the same love for me that he had for the nanny. Unlike us, he had not been eagerly awaiting a life changing event. He had no clue what was about to happen to his little world and he was terrified as his entire known existence crumbled. We thought we were prepared for his grief. We were wrong.For the better part of six weeks he vacillated between cautious play, happy giggles, and abject terror. As a rational adult I can see that he was likely afraid of more change and trying to express his displeasure with the current situation in the best way he knew how, but as a new parent I wanted him to have the kind of affection for us that we felt for him. Slowly he began to let go of his grief. Bit by bit he showed us his true personality. He's soulful, comic, and wicked clever, among other things. We knew that he was bonding with us. We knew that there was affection where once there was fear, but so often as an adoptive parent you find yourself searching for clarity... searching for some clue that you are doing things right. This weekend Beckett stayed with my Dad while Ken and I went to dinner and did a little Christmas shopping. When we returned Bex hopped around and squealed with glee.

Glee.

I could not have been more happy.

These first few months have been more difficult and more rewarding than we ever thought possible. I share this perspective so that you remember that each child has a different process. Some will instantly find peace in the new situation while others will experience various degrees of mourning. It's not all roses all the time. No matter how prepared you think you are, something will surprise you. Of course, in the end, the surprise may be that you have cemented as a family without even realising the transition, and that is the best surprise of all.