On October 15th, I shared a post on Facebook:
“Ethan, Daisy and I are very excited to introduce you to the newest member of our family, Ruby Rose Bessey born September 26, 2015. We are in love…”

I think we almost broke Facebook! The outpouring of love and support was incredible. I could truly feel the genuine joy that our greater community felt for us. Due to the slightly vague nature of my post, a good friend said that she thought there was probably a lot of people doing math that night… because just 9 months ago, I was still pregnant with our son Leo. Nine months ago, having a heart attack was the furthest thing from my mind. And little baby boy clothes filled the dresser.

But here we are.

For those of you who have followed our story, you know we have been very open about our experiences. From losing our son, to shifting our vision for our family, to delivering our still birth son, Leo, to suffering a heart attack a week later… if you scroll back through my blog, it’s all there.

But adoption is different. This isn’t just about our family, and it feels inappropriate to share details. I can tell you that our daughter, Ruby, is adopted. The doctors were very clear that it would be dangerous for me to get pregnant again. Adoption is a heart wrenching, bittersweet process that brings together strangers in a very intimate way. Previously, when I was pregnant, I took prenatal vitamins. I never ate sushi, or drank alcohol. And despite all my efforts, I learned that sadly, I don’t have any control over the outcome of the pregnancy. You can imagine how hard it is then to have even less control. With adoption, adopting parents have no control over what a birth mother is eating and drinking and smoking. Access to prenatal care can be spotty. It’s all a huge leap of faith. And as a very wise friend of mine pointed out, Ethan and I have no reason whatsoever to trust leaps of faith. So, I have no idea why we thought we should move ahead with adopting. But we did. And now we are home with a beautiful little bundle of amazingness. Daisy has a sister. We are a family of four. Really, a family of 7. Daisy’s been talking a lot about the babies we have lost. She is so wise beyond her years and truly understands the inner emotional roller coaster Ethan and I have been going through since adoption became a reality for us. We love Ruby as though she grew in my belly. Her little sounds, her loud cries, her tiny onesies do remind all of us of the babies that did not get to grow up in our home. And while a few out there may think “oh good- now this family can heal and be all better”, most of you know that there will never be an “all better” for us. Ruby is not a bandaid to make the pain of our losses go away. I would never ever put that on any child. She will grow and thrive in this family- and Ruby will always know that although she did not grow in my belly, we got to her as soon as we could to bring her home. And the home we brought her to is full of love, and sadness, and joy, and gratitude. So much gratitude.