"What does my birth mom look like, Mama?"Sigh. I have had many little talks about our birth moms. The scientific, evidence-based corner of my brain knows that developmentally, Zeke can only process concrete thoughts. So this is what I said:
"I am sure that your birth mom had caramel skin, like you do and I bet that her eyes were sparkly like your eyes. Probably her hair was fuzzy soft like a teddy bear. She didn't have water or food or space and she knew that Daddy and I did. She knew that God made me to be your mom."For tonight, that was enough to satisfy Zeke's little heart. I know that there will be many, many more conversations regarding this woman. I want to honor her by portraying her decision as one of sacrificial love. I like to believe that she loved my little boy so much, that her actions were for his best interest. In my mind's eye, I see her longing to give him everything that every child deserves: two parents, a home, love, the abundance of basic necessities like clean water and food every day. I won't ever know the whole story but I know the best part. That Ezekiel is mine.