When we were adopting your sister I used to write a letter to her every weekend on your moms old blog. We're 8 months into your adoption and this is the first letter I've written to you. I think adoption seemed magical the first time around. I had visions of a happy little girl running up to me, excited about her new life, but the reality was much darker. Adoption isn't the fairy tale I thought it was and I've always been a glass half full kind of guy. I don't know how to look at your circumstances and see anything in the glass at all. Everything is about to change for you. You have no idea now, but in a few weeks you're going to have so much love surrounding you. You'll go from never being held to having a mommy and an auntie fighting over who gets to hold you. Everything is different now, we just need you to stay strong a little longer.
You're going to be seven next week. I'm sorry we can't be with you to celebrate your day, but I promise you'll have the biggest party ever for your next birthday. We have so much making up to do and I have no doubt that your mom is going to spoil you rotten. Which is just fine with me.
You got a new name today. I know that probably doesn't seem like a big deal, but for you it is. You're no longer assigned a name by an organization. A number by an agency. It always bothered me, children being numbered. Cliff #397. You're not a number, you're a precious, loved little boy. You have parents, you have siblings, you have countless people in your corner. Cliff #397 doesn't exist anymore. Today your are Ryan Alexander Morse. You have a family surname, your mom went through a laundry list of names for you, her friends made lists of names for you. Your first name has a story, your middle name has been your moms favorite boy name since she was a little girl, pretending her dolls were her babies. I'm so sorry you spent all those years alone, but now you have a name, and a story, and everything is going to be ok.
We are working so hard to get you home. You hit the jackpot when it comes to having a fighter for a mother. She is going to get you home as fast as possible or die trying. She's never given up on you since the day she first saw your picture almost one year ago. I don't like to admit it but she had to do a lot of convincing to get me to say yes to bringing you home. I worry about her. Your old man is, well, an old man compared to your mom and odds are I'll leave this world a long time before she does. It's my job to know that she's going to be ok, and that you and your sister are going to be ok. But she's strong. She'll be fine and we serve a God who is so much bigger than us and He will take excellent care of all of you. I can't wait to hold you and tell you all about Him. He is so faithful, and He is preparing your heart for this big life change, and my heart to welcome you home. and your mom and Miss Kristie's heart to meet you soon. He loves you so much, more than I ever could and I love you with my whole heart already.
Welcome to the family Ryan.