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Another Kind of Love Story - Meet the Wildes
I don’t see him so much any more. Years ago, when the boys were small and made up more of biology than their own individual personalities, I looked for – and found – him all of the time. Anything unfamiliar was attributed to our donor and I would feel this pull of gratitude around my heart that somebody helped us and now, here we were, a family, with his blue-eyed boy laughing up at us, a tiny tribe of me and him. These days, when I look at my children I see themselves, their own quirks and personality, their mother’s expressions fleeting across their own small faces. I don’t see him. I barely think of him. That’s how I knew that I was ready. I don’t believe in karma. I don’t believe in balance. And yet sometimes I look around myself these days, at my beautiful partner and my perfect…