“To you, this may look like the normal night before trash day. A definite score for any passerby, that’s for sure. But this isn’t about tidying up before trash day or a sidewalk score.
This is about something quite different. I’ve never been one for letting go. I am probably one of the most sentimental and sensitive people you could ever meet, For some reason I associate things with memories. I am sure I am not the only one that does that.
Let’s back up and I’ll paint the picture a little more clearly for you.
Our highchair, like most families, was used for each of our kids. For most of our time shared together was spent around that chair.
Three kids in the span of 5.5 years.
With the first two children, we knew we would want another baby one day. We were holding on tight to our ‘boy dreams.’ So, after our middle daughter outgrew it, we wrapped it up and put it in the attic and waited for its reintroduction.
After about a year of waiting patiently in the attic it was time.
The final introduction was upon us! This chair has withstood most elements. It was tested and loved.
As our boy grew and grew, I saw our time with the highchair was coming to an end.
Just as we had our final introduction, it was time to say our final farewell.
I don’t know why but I do know this.
All three of our babies are ours because of the most generous gift anyone could give. Adoption changed our lives in ways we could ever imagine.
I lay in bed and try to wrap my mind around the fact that those 3 women changed our lives by choosing us to adopt their baby. Then, they let go. Forever.
I cannot imagine how difficult it is. If a highchair does this to me, can you imagine how a birth mother must feel letting go?
The two things really aren’t equivalent, but it is important for me to stay appreciative, and continue to be grateful for selflessly beautiful women who changed our lives.
Sometimes it takes a highchair to snap you back into reality.”
