Pride (in the name of love)

My mother just turned 77 years old.  While she continues to be the mother of all pack rats, she has been simplifying her household by sending stuff to me.
Recently, I received some old pictures of me with my Dad (part of the stuff she sends are pictures for me to remember, for my wife to see us as a family, and to slowly reduce the stuff in her house).  What struck me about the pictures is the love and pride I saw in my Dad's face.
I wondered whether I have that same pride when looking at my son. I don't think I've felt pride--sometimes, but also fear and shame too. What I realized during one of my dreams is that "pride" seems to be coming from a place of "ha, my seed works; I've successfully reproduced my gene pool." As an adoptive father, I don't have that. In fact, I also fear whether I am legitimate as a father; both in the eyes of other folks of color and of other parents. What I do have is a little being who looks at me with wonder, joy, love, admiration (even though he needs, to test things out for himself)--my son is FULLY attached to me and my wife. I am my son's father in his 2 year old eyes; there ain't anyone else doing that job. My wife thinks of us having and showing admiration as a way of allowing others, and especially our son, to see the joy we feel from his every accomplishment, and existence in our lives. I seems important to recognize our feelings and shortcomings now, and be able to make some adjustments so that our son can feel with each and every molecule n his body how much we love, admire, and are proud on our own way of and for him.