Moving On

A unique characteristic of an Army family's life is that every two-three years we prepare for a permanent change of station (commonly used as the verb, PCS). This is when movers pack up all our belongings, we pray that nothing gets lost or broken, we say goodbye to all our friends, and we move to a new location. Many civilians find this absolutely crazy--many in the military, however, actually enjoy it. I am one of those. We have been assigned to five different posts and are currently preparing for a summer PCS. I love the change, the excitement, the challenge. After 14 years of being an Army wife, I only get better at PCSing.

Our Family

Our upcoming PCS holds some different feelings for me. Yes, I am excited--I will, hopefully, be even more excited once we actually know where our orders will take us. I also feel somewhat unsure. You see, this will be Brendan's first PCS. He is a absolute trouper, so I am certain he will handle the move fine. I am more concerned that we are leaving behind his place of birth. I know that I have done this twice before--leaving Aidan's and Cole Patrick's birth towns, but somehow this evokes more complicated feelings.

As I drive Aidan's middle school carpool each morning, I pass Tampa General Hospital, where Bren was born. I know next to nothing about his birth parents. Despite the fact that Bren is our son and part of our family--there are biological ties out there, presumably in this city. Knowing where you come from is significant. I completely expect Bren to one day want to know more about his birth parents--while it may hurt when that day comes, I understand the importance.

I recently read a book where adoption was compared to reading a book with the first chapter ripped out. You really like the book, but it would sure be nice to know what happened in that first chapter. But then again, what if you had the opportunity to read the first chapter, and it completely changed the way you felt about the book? You might end up wishing you hadn't read the first chapter. Tough choices for anyone. Know that very little about adoption is uncomplicated. Think about it...what if you didn't know your medical history, where you came from, where you got your eyes or those adorable dimples (where did Bren get those adorable dimples??) I would imagine it feels a lot like finishing a puzzle only to find that one piece is missing.

I have no doubt that Bren's life in our family will hold more opportunities and love than he would have had with his birth parents. At the same time, even I am really curious about his history as well--more than anything, I would love to just see a picture of his birth parents. Today I googled his parents' names again--it isn't the first time I have done this. I have a few leads, but I am incredibly hesitant to go down any path--it may turn up more than I want to know. I wonder how many other adoptive parents have felt the pull to know more. In the end, I want to be strong and understanding for Bren if or when he needs to grieve the loss of his birth family--I would never underestimate his need to do this at some point.

When we PCS this summer, it will be bittersweet. I think a part of me may grieve leaving his place of origin and most importantly, the place he came to our family. At the same time, I am super excited to start over with him--a new post will be a place where no one ever knew us without him.