In 1985, when i was driving my parent's crazy and they were ready for me to go off to school, the way I'm ready for my girls, who are leaving us in less than a month, would I ever imagine that I would become knowledgeable in adoption. And International adoption at that. Nor did I know that I would also experience friendships with moms who experienced the same world as me for well over a decade. It's a silent language we speak with each other, mainly through social media, and phone calls and I am grateful for every second of it. I have many opinions about this subject, and I too have sat by and empathized with women who cannot get pregnant , the way I couldn't, and felt the devastating loss, knowing also that I cannot make them understand the different pathways to love, until they see it themselves. Knowing there is no difference in the love I have for the three children who call me mom, no matter how they arrived. I watch my kids who come from the other side of the world, grapple with their own loss, the loss of the continent of Africa, which only now lives in the deepest recesses of their souls, Watch them thrust into our America, in all it's pain and misunderstanding. It's a lot. But I ultimately still believe that life is beautiful, and when you connect with people in the world who come from the vulnerable path of adoption, you nod your head knowingly, because you too, have been there.