There are a couple of things about adoption that I find particularly challenging. Nothing to do with Seth or how I feel about Seth, but more how society wants to view us. Or the box they want to throw us in. `It is not uncommon for me to be asked by a stranger (most of my friends know better) whether I hope to have children "of my own" one day. Um, I do have a child of my own. His name is Seth, he's standing right in front of you, and he isn't deaf! "How rude," I think to myself. And yet, I smile and say something like, "Seth is my own" or "Are you asking whether I'd like biological children?" Or I ignore them entirely. Depends on my mood, I guess. `See, the miracle of adoption is that Seth is 100 % mine. All in. Bone of my bone, flesh of my flesh. I remember my mom telling me many times growing up that she had created birth stories for my brothers, in her mind. And David was adopted when he was two and a half years old! I get that now. I had a gestation period with Seth. I loved him before he was born. I loved him the moment I saw him. He is "my own". `It also amazes me how your life becomes everyone else's business when you adopt -- at least in a conspicuous family like ours. Strangers are regularly trying to figure us out. Am I married to an African-American man? Is Seth biracial? (He is, by the way). This results in interesting comments from strangers like "he has your mouth" or other things designed (I think) to elicit an explanation from me. They generally don't get one. Sometimes they get a "Oh, do you think so?" Or, when I'm feeling sassy, "He has his dad's eyes" (hee hee) or a polite smile. But I feel no obligation to share Seth's story with a stranger. It is his and mine to share with those we love and trust. Period. `So in case you're wondering, Seth is my own. :-) He is my son -- not my "adopted son." He is bone of my bone. And yes. Sometimes I hope to have biological children but most days I'm quite content that adoption was my first and maybe my last choice. Because there is nothing better than being a mama -- however that comes about. `"Her children rise up and call her blessed." Prov. 31:28