Adoption Carnival III asks for my favorite picture of adoption. Heck if I know. Do you know who I am? I’m a photographer (!), for Pete’s sake. I take pictures out the wazoo. The camera is permanently stuck to my face. Even though we started this open adoption journey in a time before either family owned a digital camera, we have a billion and one photos. Seriously. In fact, I have a full TUB from her FIRST YEAR ALONE. (Thanks, D! You’re the best.)
I can think of a few off the top of my head.
- The picture of me first holding the Munchkin.
- There’s a shot of Munchkin and my husband (then fiance) at our first visit that sits in a special place in my heart.
- A group picture of me with my friends, including D, at my baby shower (for my oldest son) in which we are both pregnant.
- A picture of the Munchkin with her hands on my pregnant belly.
- Munchkin and my oldest son meeting for the first time. They’re both SCREAMING their heads off. Kids.
- A picture of Munchkin and I sitting in the grass playing one visit near Easter.
- The Easter Bunny picture. Oh, that’s a funny one.
- An early morning picture take in the Poconos.
- Speaking of the Poconos, the picture of the Munchkin pulling my son on a sled is way up on the list.
- Probably all of the pictures I took of us at D & M’s wedding.
Those are (mostly) in chronological order.
I don’t know. It’s hard to pick a favorite. Maybe I’ll just go with the sled picture.
Why? I mean, I can’t even see the Munchkin’s face. It’s not a particularly amazing composition. It’s just a random action shot in a series of shots. Right?
Do you see my oldest son’s face? Other than those munchable cheeks, do you see that smile? Do you see his eyes, lit up with the glee of a little brother adoring his older sister? Do you see my only daughter bonding with one of her many brothers? Do you realize that is something that, according to the rest of the world including the agency through whom I placed, thinks shouldn’t have happened or, perhaps, couldn’t have ever happened?
This picture epitomizes why I work so hard in this open adoption. It’s as much for the Munchkin as it is for my sons. My sons have a right to know and love and be known by and be loved by their older, only sister. The Munchkin has a right to know and love and be known by and be loved by two more of her brothers. They have a right to bicker, pick on each other and generally not get along as siblings do. They have a right to hug, love on, cuddle and laugh together. I will do anything and everything with my ethical, boundary-respecting power to make sure that smiles like my older son’s in the above shown picture keep happening, to make sure that my daughter has moments like these to store up.
And, of course, I benefit in the fact that my heart swells to three times it size every time my children are all in the same room. Or, in cases like this one, general space.