Meet My Son: Jake

A big brother’s reflection on family, identity, and unshakable love.

A Note From Katie

It’s one thing to write about your own experience, but quite another to see it through your child’s eyes. When I read this reflection from my oldest son Jake, it cracked me wide open. He wrote about the first day he met his younger siblings, Noah and Zoe - twins we adopted from Ethiopia - and how that moment shaped his life.

Jake was only a little boy then. But the way he remembers it - the anticipation, the toys, the dinosaur blanket, the teddy bear he eventually passed down - reminds me just how deeply love can take root, even before we have the words for it.

As a mom raising both biological and adopted children, I’ve often wondered how my kids’ bond would grow across race, across biology, across all the complexities that come with adoption. But Jake’s story is not about division. It’s about belonging.

I didn’t edit a single word. This is Jake’s story, in his voice. And I couldn’t be prouder to share it with you.

With love,
Katie

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Meet Jake: Triple Big Brother

Jake and his younger siblings as littles.

It wasn't that long ago that my world changed. I remember as a kid when mom and dad started talking to me and my sister about something very special: we were going to have a new brother and sister! I was so excited to talk about Star Wars with my new brother, and I was secretly overjoyed to have another sister to annoy. I’ve always been mischievous, what can I say? With all those thoughts running through my head, I grinned and told my parents, “I’m going to be a triple big brother!”

When my parents left to go meet my siblings in Ethiopia, I honestly didn’t think much of it. It was just a big sleepover at my grandparent’s house to me, an opportunity to binge shows and eat sugary cereal that wasn't allowed in my house, but that got a pass with JoePa and BB. They told me that mom and dad would be back with my new brother and sister, and I got excited, don’t get me wrong, but only for a minute. So, I went back to my toys and T.V. and playing with my sister and cousins. The here and now will almost always take precedent in the mind of a little boy. Or maybe I just had a short attention span.

Then, the day finally came. Mom and Dad were back, with the babies! The excitement was really starting to mount now. I was giddy all morning eating breakfast and waiting for my parents to get the house ready for us to meet our new siblings. I kept wondering when they would let my sister and I leave my grandparents’ house to go home, which was a first. I normally couldn’t get enough of the matchbox cars, board games, special treats, or even the dollhouse that my grandparents lavished upon us, but my mind was elsewhere that day. I kept picturing the future. I saw me and my sister playing pretend, just like me and Livvy. I saw my new little brother playing catch with me. I saw all of us swimming in the pool to stave off the Florida heat, and playing Marco Polo. I saw myself winning, of course. I’m not exactly an oracle.

What I am now is a triple big brother. That phrase was running circles in my head on the car ride over to our house, where we would welcome Noah and Zoe into our home and into our lives. When we finally pulled up to the driveway, me and Livvy rushed to the door and went into the kitchen. “No, wait, they’re not ready yet! Go back outside and wait for us to call you in.” So back outside we went. Our eyes were locked on the back door, wondering when it would open for us to meet our brother and sister. I don’t know what final preparations my parents had to make, but mysterious as they were, they didn’t take too long. The door creaked open, and I saw my mom with the biggest smile I had ever seen her wear. “Are you ready to meet your new siblings? Take off your shoes and come say hi.”

Me and Livvy slowly walked past the kitchen into the living room, where I finally saw them with my own eyes. They were sitting upright on the floor, right on top of my favorite blanket in the house, the one with the dinosaurs. There was a rush of emotions that I can’t quite describe. Excitement, yes, but also a newfound sense of responsibility. I felt love and care for my new younger siblings. And there were feelings that I’m still parsing out after so many years. For the first time, I felt like a triple big brother. That feeling never quite stopped after that day.

Livvy and I held them and fed them, listening to Mom and Dad describe their experience in Ethiopia and the trip back. I knew that the feeling they were describing was something similar to what I was feeling at that exact moment. This is the way our family is meant to be. No ifs, ands or buts. Our lives changed forever that day. I knew that my parents had started the adoption process much earlier, but it hadn’t felt quite real up until that moment. Of course, my reaction to this feeling was to bring every toy in the house to the living room for them to play with. I got Livvy to help, too. I brought my trucks and dinosaurs and she brought her dolls, and we brought all the plushies we shared too. I made sure to bring Bumpa, my teddy bear gifted to me as a baby by my great-grandfather, which still holds meaning for me today. I ended up giving him to Zoe when we were both older.

Looking back at that day, I know it’s how my life was supposed to go. Having African-American siblings opened my eyes in ways I never considered were possible. My Mom and Dad made sure I was aware that Noah and Zoe’s experience would be different from mine, a fact that made me angry and sad at the world. How could people treat them that way? They’re my siblings. How could people not see the light shining inside them? How could people put their hatred and anger on my siblings? It is something I can never truly understand. What I do understand is that I love them, and will do anything to protect them.

With the current backsliding of American politics, I’ve found myself worrying not only about the state of the world, but about the world’s acceptance of our family. This worry has driven me to dark places, and I’m not afraid to admit that anymore. There is no world in which I can picture my family being any different than it is today, having a history that is different than the one I know. Activism and awareness are in my family’s DNA. I wish it weren’t necessary, but it is. I will never pretend to understand what it’s like to be Black in America, but I can understand what it is to be their older brother. So I will fight for a better world, for them, and for everybody else.

- Jake

P.S. from Katie: I hope this reflection from my oldest gives you a little glimpse into how a family can come together - and how bonds can form in just a moment.