Monday, July 27, 2015

Someone Else's Story

"In a way
It's someone else's story
I don't see myself
As taking part at all"

I first saw the musical Chess when I was in junior high. We went to NYC for the day. My mom, my step-dad, my step-sister and me. I think my step-grandparents may have been there as well. It was hot, maybe August? And it was fantastic.

Musical theater is something I have always loved. It was one of the few things my parents agreed on and they both raised us around theatrical experiences. In school, I participated in all the productions and all of my extra curricular activities were drama based. 

The lyrics from this particular show pop into my head a lot. When Gary and I first started dating, he used that to his advantage. He knew the musical and was able to talk to me about it. The show never had that much success so I saw it as a sign that he knew some of my favorite songs!

Anyway, a few weeks ago, a friend of mine reached out and told me that she and her husband had been going though all the motions for adoption and they were finally picked. Their baby is due this week.

This is not my story. It's someone else's story. And yet it feels so much like mine.

I have been on-hand to answer any questions that she has. The birth mother is actually closer in proximity to me than her so I have been doing all I can to advise her. It was not too long ago that I was the one who needed the assistance and that need never goes away. I have reached out to other adoptive parents and we have formed this "network" of who to call and where to go and what to expect and jokingly said we should form an "adoption welcome wagon" of sorts. It's such a scary time. It's such a hard time. It can be such a rewarding and tremendous time, too.

This friend of mine, this almost-adoptive mom, has a daughter who lives in heaven with Allie. That makes me want to help her even more. That also makes her story feel like my own.

Adoption is one of the best things that happened to our family. I know it will be for my friend, too. One day, she will tell her story and I will be just a footnote in it. And that's ok. Because I am still living my own story, too.

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