Yesterday was a beautiful day…just beautiful. The weather cooled off some and we were able to open the windows up and enjoy the evening. We grabbed sandwiches from our favorite sub place (Jimmy Johns) on our way home from therapy and ate them out on the patio. The dogs were happy to just run around the yard, sniffing the fresh air, chasing critters, and hunting for crumbs underneath the table. We sat outside together most of the evening, watering the yard and talking. After a while we finally went inside and sat down for a bowl of homemade ice cream (leftover from the visit with my parents last weekend). It was the perfect end to a perfect evening. The weather wasn’t too hot, the neighborhood was quiet, the birds were happily dancing around in the wet grass, there was nothing on our ‘to do’ list needing attention…we just sat back and let the afternoon drift lazily into evening…perfect.
So, I’ve been trying to sort out how to start this story. It’s been difficult to articulate. Difficult to pick which details to share, and which to hold close. But it’s a story too good, too beautiful, not to share – so here goes! When Matt and I first became parents, we thought our family was complete. We envisioned raising Ethan surrounded by loving friends and family – just the two of us. Given all that we had gone through to finally become parents, we felt content with just the one child. The most adorable boy in the whole wide world. Our Ethan was the apple of our eyes – the most amazing gift. We marveled at all of his accomplishments, soaked up all his love and personality, and celebrated the joy of parenthood at every exhausting, wonderful turn. Along the way, we’ve built a strong and loving relationship with Ethan’s birthmother. We visit yearly, and stay in close contact with pictures, emails, and texts. I have attempted to describe my feelings for her many times over the
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