This spring when we went to Disney World, Eve — who will be 6 in July — was tall enough to ride Space Mountain, which she loved so much she turned right around and rode it again. Also on that trip to Florida, she jumped off my brother’s boat into 10 feet of ocean. That’s how confident that kid is. And she’s sassy. And smart. And stubborn. And independent. And raring to learn.
Yes, she’s adopted, not related by blood. But I can’t imagine having produced a child who’s more like me.
It’s spooky. And often hilarious; I’m forever giggling as I scramble for a pen to take down her beyond-her-years quotes. No, she didn’t end up with curly hair. But who cares?
Eve’s favorite thing by far is her brother, Rex.
He came to us in the same way Eve did. I was sitting at my computer in 2009 when Marty’s ob/gyn cousin — who had connected us with Eve’s birth mother in 2006 — e-mailed again. She posed an extremely loaded question: “Is your family complete?”
No, it sure wasn’t. But we hadn’t realized that until she asked.
Five months later, Marty and I stood in a dimly lit labor and delivery suite cutting the cord attached to one Rex David Redfearn Kady.
Flash forward 21
2 years: Rex is a blond, blue-eyed dancing charmer who talked early, loves dogs, and adores telling knock-knock jokes that go nowhere. Oddly, he has Marty’s eyes.
It could be argued, too, that he has Marty’s temperament. He’s a sweet guy to the core. If he could spend most of his day walking around hugging people, that would suit him just fine. Parents at his school call him The Mayor.
Is our family complete? Full to bursting, I’d say. Because our family doesn’t just include Marty, me, Eve, Rex and our dog. It now includes lots of birth family members. Eve’s birth mom, Laney, sent me a Facebook friend request when Eve was 3; I accepted, and since then, edifying relationships have sprung up like wildflowers between us and Laney’s parents, stepmom, two cousins, two aunts, an uncle, and a few of her close pals. I’m also Facebook friends with Rex’s birth mom, Traci, and his birth grandmother Amy, who just married her high-school sweetheart. Uh-oh, I haven’t sent a gift yet.
I used to think of Marty and myself as the poster couple for unsuccessful fertility treatments. Now, I think of us as emblematic of how spectacularly successful adoption can be. To say we are lucky is a ludicrous understatement.
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