This is not my first adoption. First there was my own (which of course I have no memory of) then my sister's. August 14 would have been Kalyn's 24th birthday.
I recently wrote about this memory to my sister's birth mother:
It was almost 24 years ago but I remember the moment we got the call from the agency. My mom and I ran to the school where my dad was working. Screaming and banging on the locked door of the school where he taught, my mom and I kept saying "We have a baby! We have a baby!" At that moment, my 3 year old brain knew I was as much of a part of this moment as they were.
We drove all night long to Albuquerque. The light inside the car was on all night through our drive while my parents tried to pick out a name. I kept asking to name her "Mary". Finally someone said Kalyn Dyan and it stuck. That was it. She was our baby and we didn't even know her yet.
I remember holding her for the first time and knowing she was my baby. I was a big sister! We went out to eat pancakes after that and my mom held her the whole time. These memories are strange, like a dream.
I have been in contact with my birth mother since 2002 and we met for the first time in 2009. I just found out my birth father (and his 1 year old) are coming out to meet me for the first time next week. It's strange to have gone through this process with my birth mother, birth father and Kalyn's birth mother while at the same time be praying and hoping to be picked by a birth mother to parent her child. It's a lot to digest and at the same time seems oddly normal. It is strange how incredibly complex, yet beautiful, life can be.
