Hopefully, you know that you are loved like crazy. And the beauty of open adoption is that you have the chance to be loved by twice as many people. You’re loved by two moms, two dads, eight grandparents, six first cousins, and there’s no way I’m going to try to count second cousins.
What I love most though is how many Aunts you have. Not the literal kind though – the only legitimate aunt you have is C’s younger sister M. I mean the Aunts who deemed themselves members of your family before you were ever born, because long ago, they deemed themselves members of my family. I’m talking about my closest friends, friends who have loved you since I showed them your ultrasound pictures, friends who clamor to see you every time you’re in town or ask to drive down with me whenever I go to visit you.
I would truly be lost without my friends, your Aunts. They mean the world to me – they support me, they listen to me, they talk to me. We swap stories and laughter, stay with each other through happiness and sadness. We love each other unconditionally, just like family. My friendships with these girls have withstood tests of time and trial and distance and strife. We fight but we make up because we can’t stand being mad at each other. The B’s are a beautiful example of how friends can be family just as much as your actual family can. These girls are no different.
My closest friends are your Aunts S, J, NYC, and Russia. Your Aunt S came with me to almost every doctor’s appointment and a few of my child birthing classes. She and Aunt J came to the hospital when I was in labor. When Aunt J got the call the I was at the hospital she flew out of the house in the first outfit she could find without so much as taking a shower. Of course, then she sat there for five or six hours until you were finally born, but she likes to tell the story. I almost slept over at her house the night before you were born. If I had, my water would have broken all over her sofa. It would have made for a great story, but I would have been a little bummed – I love that sofa.
Aunt J is actually your Godmother, on my side of things anyway. She actually got an owl tattoo on her back, so that you’re with her everywhere she goes too. She spent a large majority of my pregnancy with me – we liked to say that she had “sympathy cravings” because I always took her with me when I wanted food. We went to Bojangles a lot…I had a thing for the fries. You’ll have to try them someday.
Your Aunt NYC has actually never met you, because she lives – take a wild guess – in New York City. She was the first person I called when I found out about you. At the time she was living in NC, so the next day she took me out last-minute Christmas shopping with her mom and we talked and she hugged me and made me laugh and let the shock wear off. She sends you stuff all the time – she sent you baby clothes after you were born and tries to plan visits to The B’s place every time she’s in town. She follows all of your pictures on J’s Facebook.
Aunt Russia loves babies. End of story. She always comments on how adorable you are and she goes out of her way to visit you every time you’re in town too. She and Aunt S and Aunt J came down to The B’s for your 1st birthday. She takes a bunch of pictures of you and – back when you still let people hold you – she would snag you every chance she got. As you may have guessed, she’s Russian. Well, Belarusian actually, which means she’s stunningly beautiful and crazy tough. Especially where you’re concerned – she could and would scare the daylights out of anyone who was treating you wrong. She’s almost as protective over you as I am, and that’s saying something.
Aunt S actually came to live with me when I was pregnant. She slept downstairs with me when my stomach got big enough to move me out of the twin bed upstairs to the full size futon downstairs. She came to the appointments and the classes, she showed off your ultrasound pictures like they were her own, and she left me a voicemail congratulating me on having a boy before I actually had the ultrasound that proved it. She was the first of my friends to meet The B’s and they still love her dearly. She still shows off pictures of you like you’re her actual nephew, because honestly you are. That’s what she calls you when she talks about you. She’s ridiculously proud of you, just like me. And just like me, you mean the world to her too.
I can’t tell you how happy it makes me that my friends are a part of your life. And the best thing is, I know they always will be. They’ve been there for me for years, and sometimes I swear they’re starting to love you more than they do me. We love you so much and we will always be here for you. Because if there is anything that these beautiful, wonderful women are good at, it’s giving constant support and endless love.
Letters to Little Man 