That 2 boys under 7 could eat so much.
That I love the 45 minutes or so my husband and I have before we sleep, and how much I miss it with a small child in the bed.
That Madeleine loved Fort before he was even here.
That Ben really wanted a little brother who looked up to him.
That Madeleine's attention to Ben means as much to him now as when he was a toddler.
That Evie can break.
That there is much to learn about the differences in black bodies and white bodies.
That rubbing oil on Fort's body after bath would be so bonding.
That Americans have such incredible sentiment tied to a birthday.
That Fortune would be so different emotionally here than he was in Uganda.
That I would feel so unprepared.
That Fort would learn good habits (seatbelts) so quickly but also lose other habits (peeing alone) as quickly.
That I would feel like I was doing it all on my own for so long.
That my husband and I would grow closer, even with our struggles.
That no matter how wonderful his orphanage was, he didn't love it and he never wants to go back.
That I would be so emotionally wrung out from my experience in Uganda.
That he would be so affectionate.
That he would always feel like my son.
That I would be so comforted by the support I felt from my friends, family, and community.
That all my emotions need to coexist, and that love, fear, grief and joy do not cancel each other out.
That I am too old to carry around a 40 pound boy.
That most of what I took for granted in our biological kids was created by love and security.
That I am so proud of myself as a mother, and of my relationship with my husband.
That I will never cease to be amazed by the incredible resilience of children.
That the child Fort is becoming is the child that I glanced at the orphanage, and anyone who only knew him 2 months ago would be amazed by him now.
That every day I am tapped out and yet somehow I get renewed.
That I thought I was so educated on what adoption would be and how blind I was in reality.
That Fort is so strong.
That I am so strong.