Someday

I've mentioned it before, but for the sake of this post, I'll say it again.

My doctor advised against giving Son biological siblings because they would likely have the same chromosomal defect as him.

It has always been a clear fact and truth that someday Dan and I will have foster kids. Now it's such an odd feeling that it's the only way to fill our house with more children.

Doctors have said that Son will have his trach tube until he's about 2-3 years old. He'll be big and strong enough by then to undergo surgery to widen his throat. Dan and I decided to start fostering once the trach is out.

A few people have joked with me about when I plan on getting my nursing degree because of how much we've had to learn since Son's birth.

Yesterday, Nurse L told me about a friend that was looking to adopt and described a local, 7-month old baby whose parents lost custodial rights before birth due to extreme drug use. The baby was immediately trached and is still living in the hospital because his case is extremely hard to place. He can literally only be placed with a trained nurse.

I'd never considered this aspect of fostering before.

Maybe someday we can be the ideal parents for a child that nobody else can handle since we've already been through it. Maybe someday we can be the ones that run in when everyone else is running out, and give a hopeless child the hope of a normal life and a place to call "home".

Maybe we will be able to change a few lives in a couple of years :) .

Can't We All Just Get Along?

Weddings always make me tear up. Seeing two people express their pure love for eachother is emotional! We need more love in this world. I stumbled across a wedding show today and fully enjoyed it, teared up, enjoyed the lovely moments, and then realized something.

"Oh, this is a male couple."

It's all love to me, yet I wondered what the rest of the world is thinking... Is this beautiful, tear-jerking couple being judged for publicly sharing their love because we were raised being told that loving someone of the same sex is wrong?

If nobody told me that it wasn't okay to love whomever you wanted to love, I would've never known that it's a cause for hate.

My hope is that someday, everyone who wants to keep lovers of any gender apart will feel as silly as all the people that wanted to keep people of different colors separate.

In a casual conversation with Nurse A, while talking about Son's future, I said it'll be weird for me to accept that he'll grow up, and anticipating the moment when "he brings his first boyfriend or girlfriend home because I've spent his whole life patting his bottom while helping him work his toots out." I froze for a moment while I processed what I'd just said, awaiting Nurse A's reaction.

I apologized if my statement was offensive to her beliefs and said that I had spoken too fast. She laughed, shook her head while smiling and said, "It's all good."

I promise myself that I will always give Son time to form his own opinion. If Son wants to paint his room pink and rock a green mohawk, he will know that it's totally fine with me.

He will continue to get odd stares and whispers around us in public the whole duration of having a trach tube and an NG tube. People stare at Son because they're curious and don't understand because it's something they're not used to seeing, but I won't let it stop us from going in public. He's alive and happy, and I will try to never let the world teach him that two men holding hands is a cause for staring, either.

Same sex couples shouldn't feel like they have to hide out. Let's just celebrate love and being alive!

Brilliant!

Mom knows that I blame Papi for breaking every pen I touch.

Recently, I had to sign something for her. Guess what? Pen ran out of ink. We both kind of smiled and shrugged. She left the room and returned with a pencil. Brilliant!!!!

(I'll be really baffled if Papi figures out how to make a pencil run out of lead).

**Update 6/7: After having 2 pens refusing to provide ink, I grabbed a mechanical pencil. The lead snapped off 3 flippin' times before I decided to give up on my task. **Sigh.**