Dylan Stafford

Today we adopt a baby boy.

We’ve never done that before.

It’s been raining since Saturday night here in Los Angeles, but we’re safe and warm and ready to receive our new son this afternoon.

The weekend was spent washing infant clothes, assembling a crib (twice, at first in our bedroom, and then a second time in the spare room, in the photo above), sterilizing bottles, arranging playdates for soon-to-be-big-brother Jackson, and having lots of phone calls with family.

My mom is flying from Ft. Worth tomorrow. Marisa’s mom’s already sent us a box of newborn onesies. Our neighbors Harry and Candice are cooking dinner for us for tonight. Our friend Jen is picking up Jackson from daycare this afternoon. Herby is on-call to help. The cavalary is coming!

We still haven’t chosen the name. We’re leaning towards Christian William _______ Stafford. We have a few hours until we have to decide. I just had a great talk with my sister Lisa, in Texas, who knows everything about music, for a musician’s name.

We gave three names to Jackson, Paul Jackson Bonaventure, and I don’t want baby boy to have fewer names than his big brother.

This is fun. It’s the second half of our life.

My friend Adrienne told me that “Children are the universe’s vote that life should go on.” I like that.

I also like what Marisa’s uncle Jeff asked us when Jackson was born, “Why do you think he chose you?” That’s the metaphor I’m getting the most nurturance from, that this baby chose us.

I’m going to take Jackson to school this morning and then go to Target to get a new carseat. We have a carseat, but the adoption rule is that we need a carseat that is less than two years old.

I’ve got the cameras all charged up. We have a diaper bag ready to go.

All weekend long we were opening boxes and bags with the clothes and toys and equipment from Jackson’s infancy. Lots of memories in every box. Amazing how fast it went.

Getting ready for the graveyard shift of bottle feeding. We’ve got a boppy pillow. We have a changing table next to the crib. We have a rocking chair that Marisa’s brother Chris gave us as a gift before Jackson arrived.

I’ve said a lot of prayers for our birth mother. The connection we have is unique. The adoption agency gave us a poem in our very first orientation. I’m going to copy the poem now, because it says things that we’re feeling today better than I can. Thanks for the love and prayers. It takes a village to raise a child.

Legacy of an Adopted Child

Once there were two women
Who never knew each other
One you do not remember
The other you call mother.

One gave you a nationality
The other gave you a name
One gave you the seed of talent
The other gave you an aim.

Two very different lives
Shaped yours into one
One became your guiding star
The other became your sun.

One gave you emotions
The other calmed your fears
One saw your first sweet smile
The other dried your tears.

The first gave you life
The second taught you to live it
The first gave you a need for love
The second was there to give it.

One gave you up
It was all that she could do
The other prayed for a child
God led her straight to you.

And now you ask me through the tears,
The age old question throughout the years;
Heredity or Environment, which are you a product of?
Neither darling, neither…
just two different types of Love.

-Anonymous

Thank you for choosing us little baby boy.