So, howz about a Tristan update? You got it.
Trissy is 3 months old. He's fat and jolly and awesome, like a tiny beardless Santa Claus. If he's not sleeping or hungry, he's smiling. Even when you're sleep deprived, seeing a fat little baby beaming at you in the middle of the night is good stuff. I can get a giggle out of him if I try hard, but it's a slightly nervous half laugh, half cry.
Loving Tristan feels exactly like loving my bio kids. The MOG and I are passionate about him, think he's beautiful and funny and advanced and we are totally in love with him. Zero difference. I tell you that because maybe you wondered, I know I did pre-adoption.
In some ways we feel like it's a little easier to just celebrate and enjoy him, because we aren't recovering from the emotional trauma of bedrest and preterm deliveries. He's also Toby and Brynn's favorite toy, now that they've figured out how to make him talk and smile. I have to save his life multiple times a day, although he doesn't seem to mind being in the line of fire.
It's interesting to look at his face, and to see his birthfamily there, and feel the sweetness of that. I think about his birthmom most days, just because of his eyes. The birthfamily is doing well, by the way. We've been in contact a couple of times in the last month, mostly by text and the photoblog I set up for them. I honor his birthmom, and I know she loves him and will always be his first mom.
That doesn't change how he sees me, as his mama. He looooooves me. I get the shared shock of joy every time he wakes up, both of us remembering again how great it is to have each other.
Adoption is good stuff, y'all.