By AMY SHANKLAND
Perfectly Imperfect
Since it took so long to get pregnant the first time, I was eager to try again that following summer when Jonathon was only seven months old. I mentioned this to John while we were pushing our little guy in the stroller one evening.
“I think you’re wrong, Amy,” John replied. “I think you’re Fertile Myrtle now, and it won’t take any time at all for you to get pregnant again.”
“But I don’t want to take any chances,” I said.
“Well, if it does happen quickly, they’ll be close in age like my brothers and I were. They’ll be best friends growing up.”
“That would be great,” I replied.
Little did we know that we were predictors of the future that evening. Jonathon became a big brother to Jacob at the young age of 16 months in April 2002. Jacob was just as good as Jonathon had been as an infant, although a little more stubborn. He was not a fan of the required “tummy time” that my pediatrician recommended each day and howled miserably after just a few minutes.
I was fortunate to have secured a work at home job working for Agape Therapeutic Riding Resources right before Jonathon was born. So the boys only had to go to daycare once a week while I attended staff and other meetings. Despite this job and the one John now had working at a local Mailboxes Etc., we were almost broke like a lot of new parents. But we were truly happy. And tired! Working at home was a blessing, but it was challenging to do every day with a baby and a toddler.
While driving my sleeping children home one evening after picking up some silent auction items for an event, I was somewhat startled at my reflection in the car window at a stoplight. For the first time, I saw Jonathon in my reflection. At this point he was almost three, and people were still saying how much he looked like John. But my thinking started to shift.
Jacob had a combination of both of our features. He was blonde like I was as a little girl, and he had striking hazel eyes. His stubbornness had continued, and he was a mama’s boy up until he was two. I couldn’t even leave the room without him bawling.
Once again, my thoughts turned to my heritage. Sure, both boys had John’s characteristics as well as mine. But we would never truly know the boys’ complete history, not without me digging for information about my own.
How could I do that, though, and break my mother’s heart? That question still haunted me and held me back from learning more about my adoption story.