Anyone who knows me knows I love the fact that I’m adopted; that I wear the title of “adoptee” with pride. This is primarily because I came from an impossible living situation in Calcutta (now Kolkata) and was blessed to be adopted into a loving, accepting family. Growing up, I cared nothing about genes because I didn’t share them with anyone I’d ever known. My parents were the same to me as your biological parents were to you. I didn’t know any different. While I was well aware of the fact that I was a brown kid living in a sea of white people, I didn’t care about it. It didn’t bother me. I wasn’t without issues, relating to being adopted, but the fact that I was not biologically related to my parents and brothers has never been one of those issues.
That being said, when I first became pregnant with Rubina I was overjoyed knowing she would be my first known biological relative; the first being with which I would actually know and share genes. It was the first time blood mattered to me. I could hardly take it all in. And to top it off, half of her genetic make up would be that of the person I loved the most. Pretty great news all around. Now, I know you all understand how babies are made and this is, in no way, an attempt to educate you on such matters. The back story was simply an attempt to lay a foundation in order to explain to you how I felt once Rubina arrived and what it was like when two became three.
For most parents, adoptive or otherwise, the arrival of children brings about a depth of joy never before experienced. A fullness of your heart and a richness in your spirit. We, obviously, were no exception. If you, like me, never had biological connections in your life until the birth of your child(ren), then you know the added level of intimacy I’m describing. It’s unreal. Unmatched. Unbelievable. She brought about a wholeness to me I never knew I was lacking; in one way my heart expanded and in another it felt newly complete. I had known a lot of love in my life but this was new. As good as the other love but different. Now, all the other mommas out there, hold tight. I’m not claiming to love my little one more or to have a deeper connection with mine than you do with yours…I’m simply saying it was a closeness that I, as a genetically isolated person, had not felt before. I am still overwhelmed thinking about the fact that she is mine. I, thoroughly, enjoy seeing similarities she shares with both Kevin and I; physically or otherwise. I’m grateful to be a momma and I’m grateful to have had a momma who loved me so wholly without having shared genes with me. Kevin’s and my whole world changed when Rubina joined our family; in the best ways possible. And that is the story of how two became three and one became whole.