Each year as the end of August/beginning of September rolls around, I get a little introspective. For you see, this is my anniversary. I am not talking about my wedding anniversary (although I did get married just three days before my birthday.)

What I am referring to is the anniversary of my birthday. But this is not just any birthday…because I am a special child.

Despite everything I’ve been through, I have to remember this one thing…I was chosen specifically by my adoptive parents to be their daughter. (My brother is adopted too.) They wanted me. They picked me…for the first time in my life…I was wanted.

My birth mother may not have wanted me (she was too young), but someone else did. AND…best of all…it’s better than the alternative. I feel very lucky to be here. When my life is at it’s darkest point, the bleakest time, I need to remind myself just how lucky I am…just how special.

It takes a special kind of person to be strong enough to get past the fear, the stigma and the failure of not being able to have children and follow the path to adoption. In that respect, my parents are special too.

Adoption…it seemed so much easier back then. Today, not so much. I’m still trying to wrap my head around not being able to have children and not being able to financially afford the costs for adopting. It may be too late for me, but there is still always hope. The dream of something…I’m still working on a plan. It’s a big plan…

So tonight as I write this, I am not crying, rather, I am rejoicing in the fact that I am here, just like so many other adopted children…special children chosen by special parents.