i love our hands

i love my husbands strangely enormous hands. that exude strength. they're farming hands. that in a different era would have served him well. they are big-boned. so much so that his football teammates called him ten thumbs. they remind me of my german grandfather's enormous pale hands. i love that we had to order a special sized 12 ring when we got married. 

and i like my hands. goodness knows there is waaay too much i don't like about my body. but i do like my hands. they're narrow with long slender fingers. i have my grandmother's piano hands. and her size 4.5 ring finger.

i also love my hazelly-green, very round, eyes. that match my mother's. and my olive skin. that made me blend into the background of turkish people one summer. 

i love the ears that my husband and his brothers inherited from their father. and his impossible pale as an over-exposed sky in a photograph, blue eyes. they're big and sit amongst brownish red eyelashes and under a head full of ridiculously curly hair that is the perfect color for a pair of j.crew cords.

i think it's funny that my poor nephew has the exact same cow-licks as my brother. they're in the worst places too. like the side of his head.

i like how my mother, brother and i are such light sleepers and that the three of us are always out of bed by 7:00 a.m.

although, i've always hoped that our children would inherit k's sleep habits. k sleeps so soundly. and can fall asleep anywhere.

the thing about adoption, is that it is great. and a blessing. but there is a loss. and the knowledge that it will be matched by the child you will be so lucky to raise. a child wants to look like their parents.

ours will not.

Comments

[My Reality]

I look absolutely nothing like my adoptive mom. I have dark hair, olive skin, hazel eyes. She is blond, fair and blue eyed. We are about the same height and that is about it. People always tell us how much we look alike when we are seen together. Your child may not have your hands, but he or she will look like you in other ways.

[kate]

Above all else, a child wants to be loved and cared for, and feel secure in that love. And yours SO will.

[JessPond]

I feel you. I wish Ava could have the pale eyes of my wonderful and amazing great-grandma. But she will not. She'll have brown eyes, like her birthfather. Which is ok, too, and lovely in its own way, really.

She will have the values passed down from that grandmother, though. The love that she helped to build. And that's more important than eye color.

There is a loss. But the gain will be so much greater.

[ali]

I love what Jess had to say about this. You will have moments like these, I am sure. The pain of infertility and the loss will never leave you. But other things, joyful things, like that future child, will fill you up.

[Janimal]

This made me tear up.
I wish this wasn't so freaking hard. I hate when people say "just adopt" to us infertiles, because adoption is a wonderful option but comes with it's own set of issues and pain. I think the stuff you say here is why my husband isn't as on board with pursuing adoption. He's thinking about a child who's a mix of both our best parts. (I think he assumes they wouldn't inherit my impatience and his constant sniffing)

I do believe, with all my heart, that when your child reaches your arms, where they came from will fade away. You are going to love the hell out of your kids! I have faith that you will be a great Mommy, no matter what journey works out for you. I just wish it were easier...

I am looking forward to meeting K one of these days. I'll so be checking out his hands!

[Elizabeth]

I wish it would just happen already so that you could pass on those green eyes and his big hands to some darling boy or his hair and your slender hands to some girl.

[Anns]

Ok, so I do get this but can I just say for a moment that despite your sadness here I really appreciated this post because it made me stop and think about what I love about those around me. Thank you for that. xo