It was an innocent enough comment. And I know that it's the thought that crosses lots of minds when they meet us. Perhaps when they hear Alfredo call me Amy instead of Mommy they get even more confused.
It's nobody's business. I know that. I don't owe anyone an explanation, especially not a stranger whom we'll most likely never see again. And although it is remarkable, the story of how we came to be a family is long and complicated.
But when this man stated aloud what is obvious to the whole of the world, but not at all to my sweet little boy, I looked quickly at him to see if he heard it too. The man said it so plainly, so matter-of-factly. "He doesn't look like you." Did Alfredo hear it? Did he understand? If he didn't this time, will he someday look at me and see our differences? Will he ever, even for a tiny second, question the source of our love when that same question is on every new face he meets?
My prayer for him is that he knows in the way you know that the sky is blue and the grass green. The way you know that each breath you breathe is there now and will be there for the next breathe, God willing. I pray that he knows how completely lovable he is. And how it has not the single bit to do with how he looks or how I look.
I hope our story and the glimpse into our life, my heart, and our love will help prepare you for those of life's moments when you see a family whose roots are not obvious, whose traits are not mirrored so clearly that you can tell just by looking at them how their story began. Pause and consider please that this family is no less one. Not one single bit. Pause and consider please that what is so obvious to you might not yet be to all the little members of that family.
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