The First Six Months - An Adoptive Parent Primer

What you really need to know:

The same baby who sleeps peacefully slumped over a rock in 96-degree sunshine during a Blue Angels Air Show will awaken from a deep slumber in the middle of the night if you drop the cap to your toothpaste.

Begin now to live every day as if you will be snowed-in for a month starting tomorrow.

You can not imagine the things you will extract, touch, sniff, sample, examine and discuss. You will do so without hesitation, and you will even save some of them. (I didn't believe it either.)

Pray for the generosity of friends who cook.

Ultimately, everything is washable. (I just took a shower with an exersaucer.)

Babies produce an astounding amount of earwax. Most of it Cheeto-colored.

Take time now to locate as many drive-through establishments as you can. I mean way beyond just a bank and fast food. Pharmacy, drycleaner, grocery store, gas station, car wash, post office, bakery, photo lab, oil change, coffee shop, church, AAA, video rental, library, cell phone repair... you will need every opportunity to conduct your life without getting out of the car. If you can find a drive-through pediatrician I suggest you get on the waiting list now. I’m sure he or she has a full patient load.

Some days it's a marathon,
some days it's a sprint,
most days it's a marathon sprint.

Trust your instincts.

Keep a journal. Those first special moments, the ones you’re sure you’ll remember for the rest of your life, will be crowded out by the next special moments, which will eventually give way to others, and so on... write it on a napkin, a diaper box, the mirror, a changing pad, anywhere. Just write it. Please.

If you grow impatient waiting for a child to adopt, remember that God is finding exactly the right baby for you. When you bring your child home, you will be grateful that He took His time.

No matter what you do, time will pass too quickly.

You will be your baby’s first true love.

Sally Bacchetta - Freelance Writer
Freelance Writer
Parenting
Motherhood

Things I've Learned From Your Daddy

If you want French fries, order French fries.

Stubble may be sexy on a man, but it’s never sexy on a woman.

Holding the door is an expression of affection, not politics.

It’s impossible to argue with someone who is smiling.

Make time.

Men don’t like to carry anything. Except money.

A hotdog at the ballpark can be a romantic dinner.

Don’t read Dave Barry with food in your mouth.

Cold feet on a warm back is only funny if the feet are yours and the back isn’t.

An hour in the electronics store isn't too much to ask.

Let it go.

Sally Bacchetta - Freelance Writer
Freelance Writer
Parenting
Motherhood

I feel most like a mother...

I feel most like a mother when you don't know that I'm taking care of you. When I gently change course to avoid a loose shopping cart. When I shift you on my lap to keep you from a draft or an edge or a light in your eyes. When I deliberately linger a few steps behind because I smell smoke on the people walking ahead of us. When I smile at you and make casual conversation so you don't realize that my heart just stopped and restarted because you almost slipped in the tub or almost hit your head or almost swallowed a penny.

I've been surprised to realize that your birth didn't end my anticipation. It just changed it.

Sally Bacchetta - Freelance Writer
Freelance Writer
Parenting
Motherhood