I'm Thankful

Jun was born in Inner Mongolia (China).  He spent the first 3 years of his life in an orphanage being raised by caretakers who, among other things, taught him to love.  While we were in China completing the adoption we were stopped many times each day by people who wanted to thank us for adopting our son.  These people gently touched our arms, looked in our eyes, and sincerely thanked us for adopting our son.  They looked at Jun and gently touched his cheeks, gently rubbed his arms, and told him and told us that he was such a "lucky boy".  A "lucky boy".  We heard that more times than I can count.  And in the 2 ½ years since we've been home, countless people have told me that we did such a good thing by adopting our son.  Now that we are about to adopt our 3 year old daughter we are beginning to hear more thanks and praise for choosing to adopt.  I know people are being kind and really just trying to be thoughtful when they make these comments.  I know that the people in China truly are thankful to the people "willing" to adopt their children who, for a variety of reasons, cannot be cared for in their country.  But we really don't deserve the praise.  I love my son in just the same way that any other mother loves her child.  I have never looked at him and thought that I  saved him.  I have never looked at him and thought that I rescued him.  We are a joyful family and I thank God every single day for bringing Jun into my life.  Our story of becoming a family may be out of the ordinary, but my husband I are not special in any way for becoming a family the way we did.  When I hear thanks and praise for our decision to adopt Jun I don't know what to say, I'm not quite sure how to react because I know that the people who deserve the praise are the ones who spent the first 3 years of his life with him.  They are the ones who fed him, clothed him, and took care of him when he was sick.  They are the ones who taught him to be a loving, caring little boy.  I am sure that they loved him, I am sure that it was really difficult for them to watch him leave their arms and walk into our arms in order to create a family.  I can't imagine how difficult it would be to love a child and know that the best result you can hope for is that someone would come along and take them from you. I can only hope that my daughter is cared for in the same way that my son obviously was.  And I hope that someday I will somehow be able to appropriately thank and praise the loving caring people who gave so much to my children before I was able to be their mother.