"Am I Adopted?"

We've been really open with G & K about the adoption.  

In most ways.  They know to expect two new siblings that will be younger than them.  They understand we don't know if they will be boys or girls.  They know about what age they will be when they will become big sis & big bro.  They know they are coming from Honduras and will speak Spanish (which is one reason I'm pushing Cuban Daddy to teach G & K).  They know that we are raising money and doing paperwork (a little knowledge, at least).  And they know the new babies won't come from Mommy's tummy.

They know the word 'adoption.'

But they haven't yet questioned WHY children don't have a family, or why children would need a new family.  I dread that day, and pray that God gives me the right words at the right time. 

Because, not only is it tragic, but it's nearly unexplainable.

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Cuteness alert.

A few days ago, while I was cuddling her before bedtime, G looks up and asks me, 

"Am I adopted?"

"No, sweetheart, you came from Mommy's tummy.  And I love you so, so much.

But, I'd love you the same even if you were adopted."

Nods.  More cuddles.

That's a hard subject to wrap your mind around at age 4.

It's a hard subject to wrap your mind around nearly 3 decades older.

I think this photo speaks for itself:

G & I at age 4.

There will be loads of love, 

adopted or not.

~ 6 in Love ~