This pregnancy is bringing up lots of questions for the boys. We knew it would. Owen's questions are mostly focused on Baby Sister... "How did she get in there?" "How will she get out of there?" "Will you pee on her when she's getting born?" "Will it hurt her when she is getting born?" "How big will she be when she is born?" "What color will she be?" (note: he told us tonight at dinner: "I think she will be brown!") Etc. These questions are hard to answer-- as they surely are for any family experiencing a pregnancy with a young child already in the home. But Kyle's questions are 100 times harder to answer. Kyle's questions are mostly focused on his own (and Owen's, since they are not separate in Ky Ky's mind) experiences pre-birth, during birth, and after birth... "Was it dark in the special lady's belly, was it so scary for me and Owen?" "Were we born in a hospital?" "Who caught me when I got born, did a doctor catch me and Owen?" "Why wasn't I in your belly, why wasn't Owen in your belly, why were we in another lady's belly?" (he still rarely refers to his birthmother as "birthmother" and still consistently refers to her as "another lady" or "the special lady") "Can I please see a picture from when I was born?" "Who took care of me when I was born?" "I needed you to take care of me, why didn't you take care of me when I was born?" "Did you come to get me right away when I was born?" Etc. Kyle is a tough cookie. And his curiosity is intense. When we were planning to adopt and were in the process of adopting (and even right up until a few weeks ago), I knew it would be challenging to talk about all of these questions that would be raised for K & O. I have been thinking of these questions and brainstorming my answers for over four years now. But nothing, just nothing, can prepare you for what it is like when those huge brown eyes are peering straight into yours and those gorgeous little faces are seeking your answers. It is no longer intellectual when it is real-- when the questions are coming from your own precious children. It feels massive. So massive that I can't even explain it. It is surprising to me how often tears spring to my eyes immediately when I hear the questions. I thought I'd be o.k. with it all, and I am at peace with it, but I'm not o.k. with it. At least not emotionally. And oh Kyle. His questions just cut to the heart of it all. As is always his way. Tonight, as I was tucking him into bed he lifted his head off his pillow and in the darkness, with his eyes looking face-forward straight into mine, his mouth so close to my face that I could feel his warm sweet breath he whispered, "Mommy, where were you when I was born?"