Recently one of our friends who is in the midst of infertility shared with us that she isn’t ready to give up on having her husband’s baby. I totally understood. A part of me will always long to have Craig’s baby. It’s natural, normal, the way it’s supposed to be. I’ve kept thinking about what she said because I get it….but, and this is the biggest but of all….Wes is Craig’s baby 150%. If we hadn’t decided to move on from infertility, to move on to adoption, Craig wouldn’t have a baby at all.
Craig’s baby isn’t the one who looks like him (but as a multiracial child, Wes is not the spitting image of either of his birthparents; he has some similar features, yes, but he’s not a mini me either). Craig’s baby doesn’t share his blood. But Craig’s baby is the one that he woke up for in the middle of the night for months to watch The Wonder Years while he fed him a bottle.
Craig’s baby is the one that he asks if he can wake up in the morning before he leaves for work just so he can hug him for 30 seconds. Craig’s baby is the one to whom he said, and I quote “you’re my favorite thing in the whole wide world, except for you too (meaning me) =).” Craig’s baby is the one he chases, tickles, cuddles, and protectively runs after when he might fall and hurt himself. Craig’s baby is the one he asks me to text him pictures of when he’s out of town or coming home late because he misses him. Craig’s baby is the one that he looks at with immense pride every time he crosses a new milestone.
Craig’s baby did not grow in me and he didn’t need to. Craig’s baby grew in his heart. He could not love him more. He could not be more his son.
Gina Zeidler took these beautiful photos.