My winter break goal was to complete my entire folder of paperwork. Here are the forms that needed to be filled out and signed by both of us:
Home Study Evaluation Agreement
Notification of Placement of Child in Home
Discipline Policy
HIV Policy
Guardianship
Medical Living Expense Non-Reimbursement Acknowledgment NJ
Financial Form with supporting documents (like our mortgage statement, etc.)
Here are the forms that required going places in order to get them completed:
Medical Examination Form
Pediatric Report
Local Police Clearance
Employment Verification Letters
NJ State Criminal Fingerprint Clearance
FBI Criminal Fingerprint Clearance
NJ State Child Abuse Clearance
Out of State Child Abuse Clearance (for every state lived in since age 18, which for me is 4 different states and for Nghia is 3.)
And here are the documents we had to make copies of:
Driver's License
Health Insurance Cards
Birth Certificates (Although Nghia doesn't have one because he wasn't born in this country, so he has Proof of Citizenship.)
Marriage License
Social Security Cards
IRS Forms (W-2 and first page of 1040)
In addition to all of this, we both had to fill out 20 pages of questions for our autobiographies. It took me 5 hours to complete mine.
It is with situations like this that my uptight, anxious nature really works for me. It feels so good to know that nearly everything on this list is complete. I still have to get my Medical Examination Form filled out, but the appointment is scheduled. The earliest my Dr. could get me in is next week. Other than that, everything is done! Well, everything at this stage of the process. There's still more...
In 2 weeks we will have our second Home Study meeting. Sometime this month we will have our actual Home Study, where a social worker will come to our house to make observations. In February we will have 2 more meetings and THEN WE WILL BE DONE!!!
(Of course, everyone who has gone through this before tells me that the waiting is the hardest part. I can't even imagine what waiting for a year would feel like, and it's a very real possibility. So I guess I shouldn't get too excited yet.)
Sunday, January 5, 2014
Friday, December 20, 2013
Fourteen
Yesterday Nghia and I attended yet another adoption meeting. This one was called Home Study 1 and in about a month we will attend Home Study 2. Yesterday's meeting was essentially about getting us ready for our home study, which is when a social worker comes to our house to make sure we have smoke detectors, fire extinguishers, an extra bedroom, etc. We were given a HUGE folder of paperwork that we have a month to complete. We will spend the next several weeks filling out all the forms, making copies of our birth certificates and marriage license, going to the local police department to get background checks, filing background checks in every state we have lived since age 18, obtaining our medical reports and pediatrician reports for Khai and Avi, getting fingerprinted, writing 10 page biographies, and about a million and one other things that require lots of running around to state offices. I know we will get it all done, but it certainly feels like a huge amount of work right now. The timing is good though, as my winter break begins today. My goal is to get everything completed by the time I have to go back to work on January 2nd.
Yesterday we also received a packet of paper that is referred to as the "Key." This is the part where we have to decide exactly what lifestyle choices, medical conditions, and life circumstances of the birth parents we are comfortable with. There are so many things we have to make decisions about. For example:
Birth mom smoked pot during pregnancy, birth mom drank alcohol during pregnancy, birth mom smoked crack during pregnancy (this goes on for every drug), birth mom has depression, anxiety, bipolar disorder, etc, birth father has a mental illness, either birth parent is HIV positive or has Hepatitis, birth father is incarcerated for a non-violent crime, birth father is incarcerated for a violent crime, the baby was conceived through rape, etc. (They even distinguish between acquaintance rape and stranger rape.)
This is a very small sample of the kinds of things we will need to decide upon. The Key is almost 3 pages long and will probably require the most thought on our part. We will speak with at least 3 pediatricians to gather as much information as we can about the effects of different substances on the developing fetus. And we have to think about the long-term impact some of these circumstances could potentially have on our family because this will be an open adoption. We are going to have some level of contact with our child's birth family and we need to think about how all of these issues might later impact our child. For example, we might be comfortable with the birth mom smoking crack during pregnancy, but we wouldn't be comfortable with our child spending time with someone who is high on crack. (For the record, we are are not comfortable with exposure to crack in utero. I was just using this as an example to illustrate how we need to think about the short and long-term in order to make these decisions.)
We have been strongly advised to keep all of these decisions private. Ultimately, this will be our child's story to tell, not ours. It would not be fair to the child for others to know such personal information about their background. Also, we think about the fact that people have such stereotypes about adopted children and often hold such negative views about their futures. Let's say we decided we were comfortable with the birth mother smoking pot during pregnancy. Then 7 years later our child has some learning challenges. I would hate for people to think, "It's because the birth mom smoked pot." And people would think that. I was recently talking with a friend, someone who is smart and educated, about a child we know who is facing some behavioral challenges. I mentioned that this child is adopted and my friend immediately said, "Oh, that explains it!" It's offensive and ignorant, and it's extremely common.
So as far as our Key is concerned, we will only say publicly that we want a healthy baby and we are doing ridiculous amounts of research before making any decisions. We want to be conservative, yet open minded.
So we continue to move forward. I wonder if this will be our last holiday season as a family of 4.
Yesterday we also received a packet of paper that is referred to as the "Key." This is the part where we have to decide exactly what lifestyle choices, medical conditions, and life circumstances of the birth parents we are comfortable with. There are so many things we have to make decisions about. For example:
Birth mom smoked pot during pregnancy, birth mom drank alcohol during pregnancy, birth mom smoked crack during pregnancy (this goes on for every drug), birth mom has depression, anxiety, bipolar disorder, etc, birth father has a mental illness, either birth parent is HIV positive or has Hepatitis, birth father is incarcerated for a non-violent crime, birth father is incarcerated for a violent crime, the baby was conceived through rape, etc. (They even distinguish between acquaintance rape and stranger rape.)
This is a very small sample of the kinds of things we will need to decide upon. The Key is almost 3 pages long and will probably require the most thought on our part. We will speak with at least 3 pediatricians to gather as much information as we can about the effects of different substances on the developing fetus. And we have to think about the long-term impact some of these circumstances could potentially have on our family because this will be an open adoption. We are going to have some level of contact with our child's birth family and we need to think about how all of these issues might later impact our child. For example, we might be comfortable with the birth mom smoking crack during pregnancy, but we wouldn't be comfortable with our child spending time with someone who is high on crack. (For the record, we are are not comfortable with exposure to crack in utero. I was just using this as an example to illustrate how we need to think about the short and long-term in order to make these decisions.)
We have been strongly advised to keep all of these decisions private. Ultimately, this will be our child's story to tell, not ours. It would not be fair to the child for others to know such personal information about their background. Also, we think about the fact that people have such stereotypes about adopted children and often hold such negative views about their futures. Let's say we decided we were comfortable with the birth mother smoking pot during pregnancy. Then 7 years later our child has some learning challenges. I would hate for people to think, "It's because the birth mom smoked pot." And people would think that. I was recently talking with a friend, someone who is smart and educated, about a child we know who is facing some behavioral challenges. I mentioned that this child is adopted and my friend immediately said, "Oh, that explains it!" It's offensive and ignorant, and it's extremely common.
So as far as our Key is concerned, we will only say publicly that we want a healthy baby and we are doing ridiculous amounts of research before making any decisions. We want to be conservative, yet open minded.
So we continue to move forward. I wonder if this will be our last holiday season as a family of 4.
Wednesday, November 20, 2013
Thirteen
Today Nghia and I went to an all day adoption education course. We spent the day with 4 other couples learning all of the complicated ins and outs of the adoption process, myths surrounding adopted children and birth mothers, specific state laws we may have to contend with, and important things to keep in mind when adopting outside of one's race. It was an informative day and it feels so good to have it behind us. This is one more thing we can check off the list. The next step is our homestudy meeting, which will be in about a month. We're slowly getting closer to our last step, which will take place in February. Then we will just be waiting for the phone to ring telling us we have been matched.
The other couples in the group were so nice and we all hit it off immediately. The social worker leading the meeting told us that these classes aren't usually so energetic and talkative. We all just really got along and had similar senses of humor, so we laughed a lot today. I am excited about this because we are going to go through the rest of this process with this group. We will go to all of the remaining meetings together and maybe we'll even keep in touch after our babies arrive.
From the beginning I was concerned about this meeting because I knew it would be the first time we'd meet the other adoptive families in our group, and I had a feeling that we'd be the only couple who hadn't struggled with infertility. I figured that Nghia and I could just be secretive about it in order to be sensitive and that would be the end of it. And that would have all been fine today had I not liked the others in the group so much. Throughout the day there was a lot of talk about infertility, loss, and grief surrounding the inability to conceive or carry a pregnancy to term. This talk was presented to the entire group and it made me feel like such an imposter, like we were being deceitful to these people that both of us liked so much. One couple talked very openly about how hard the road has been for them, how much they went through before they decided to pursue adoption. Everyone in the room nodded sympathetically and I just felt so conflicted.
Throughout the day I was so aware of how conscious I was of not talking about Khai and Avi. Over and over I felt myself starting to tell a story that involved them. One guy said that since he took the day off work he was able to sleep in a bit before the meeting. I was about to joke about how impossible it is to sleep in when you have young kids, but I caught myself. Another time a woman asked when our next meeting is and after I told her, I wanted to make a joke about how I had to schedule babysitters so far in advance, but I caught myself again. You don't realize how much you talk about your kids until you are actively trying not to.
When we took a break for lunch Nghia and I walked out to our car and suddenly felt self-conscious about the two carseats in the back. I joked that we should cover them with a blanket so our new best friends in the group wouldn't see. We talked at length about how bad we felt, like we were lying, and how it wouldn't matter at all if we were never going to see these people again, if we didn't actually want to keep in touch with them. But we do and I'm worried that once they find out we have kids and we didn't say it right away, they won't like us anymore. Maybe they'll feel like we lied. Nghia said we should talk to the social worker, Grace, about it and get her advice.
So when we adjourned for the day Nghia and I casually stuck around until everyone else had left. We told Grace the whole story and that we feel deceitful and secretive in a way we hadn't anticipated because we didn't know we'd like these people so much. Grace was so understanding and nice, and she also apologized for not phrasing her language more appropriately. (For example, instead of saying, "You all went through a lot of loss before coming here," she could have said, "Some of you may have experienced loss...") Grace said that at our next meeting we're going to delve more deeply into our personal lives and our reasons for adopting, so the cat will be out of the bag then. She told us not to worry, that it won't seem weird that we didn't mention it today and it might even be better to save it for the next meeting. I trust her and her judgment, so I'm no longer worried.
Mostly, I'm glad this meeting is done! There's still a lot more to do, but I really feel like we're getting there. I had moments today where I was somewhat astonished that we're actually doing this. After all these years of thinking about it and talking about it, I sometimes find it hard to believe that the time is really here.
The other couples in the group were so nice and we all hit it off immediately. The social worker leading the meeting told us that these classes aren't usually so energetic and talkative. We all just really got along and had similar senses of humor, so we laughed a lot today. I am excited about this because we are going to go through the rest of this process with this group. We will go to all of the remaining meetings together and maybe we'll even keep in touch after our babies arrive.
From the beginning I was concerned about this meeting because I knew it would be the first time we'd meet the other adoptive families in our group, and I had a feeling that we'd be the only couple who hadn't struggled with infertility. I figured that Nghia and I could just be secretive about it in order to be sensitive and that would be the end of it. And that would have all been fine today had I not liked the others in the group so much. Throughout the day there was a lot of talk about infertility, loss, and grief surrounding the inability to conceive or carry a pregnancy to term. This talk was presented to the entire group and it made me feel like such an imposter, like we were being deceitful to these people that both of us liked so much. One couple talked very openly about how hard the road has been for them, how much they went through before they decided to pursue adoption. Everyone in the room nodded sympathetically and I just felt so conflicted.
Throughout the day I was so aware of how conscious I was of not talking about Khai and Avi. Over and over I felt myself starting to tell a story that involved them. One guy said that since he took the day off work he was able to sleep in a bit before the meeting. I was about to joke about how impossible it is to sleep in when you have young kids, but I caught myself. Another time a woman asked when our next meeting is and after I told her, I wanted to make a joke about how I had to schedule babysitters so far in advance, but I caught myself again. You don't realize how much you talk about your kids until you are actively trying not to.
When we took a break for lunch Nghia and I walked out to our car and suddenly felt self-conscious about the two carseats in the back. I joked that we should cover them with a blanket so our new best friends in the group wouldn't see. We talked at length about how bad we felt, like we were lying, and how it wouldn't matter at all if we were never going to see these people again, if we didn't actually want to keep in touch with them. But we do and I'm worried that once they find out we have kids and we didn't say it right away, they won't like us anymore. Maybe they'll feel like we lied. Nghia said we should talk to the social worker, Grace, about it and get her advice.
So when we adjourned for the day Nghia and I casually stuck around until everyone else had left. We told Grace the whole story and that we feel deceitful and secretive in a way we hadn't anticipated because we didn't know we'd like these people so much. Grace was so understanding and nice, and she also apologized for not phrasing her language more appropriately. (For example, instead of saying, "You all went through a lot of loss before coming here," she could have said, "Some of you may have experienced loss...") Grace said that at our next meeting we're going to delve more deeply into our personal lives and our reasons for adopting, so the cat will be out of the bag then. She told us not to worry, that it won't seem weird that we didn't mention it today and it might even be better to save it for the next meeting. I trust her and her judgment, so I'm no longer worried.
Mostly, I'm glad this meeting is done! There's still a lot more to do, but I really feel like we're getting there. I had moments today where I was somewhat astonished that we're actually doing this. After all these years of thinking about it and talking about it, I sometimes find it hard to believe that the time is really here.
Friday, October 25, 2013
Twelve
I've mentioned Khai's new best friend at school and I called him Alex, which is not actually his name. Now I want to change the name because Nghia's brother's name is Alex and I'm not sure why I chose it for the friend's alias, other than the fact that it's a name I really, really like. Anyway, now Khai's best friend is named Simon.
Khai and Simon have become quite close this year. They argue and fight, but they also have a blast and really like spending all their time together at school. The other day in the car I asked Khai if he knew that Simon is adopted. Khai said, "Yes, I knew that and I also know what a birthmom is." I was happy to hear this because it told me that Khai and Simon have obviously talked about Simon's being adopted. Khai has never heard the word birthmom from me. I asked Khai to tell me what a birthmom is and it turned out he didn't actually know, but he knew the word because he heard Simon talking about it. I explained to Khai what a birthmom is and to give an example he's extremely familiar with I said, "Like your cousins. They didn't grow in Aunt Daph's belly so Aunt Daph isn't their birthmom." Khai was indignant, "But Aunt Daph is their mom!" And I said yes, Aunt Daph is certainly their mom. A birthmom is different from a mom. Khai sort of said it perfectly.
I then asked Khai if he thinks Simon and his mom look alike. (Simon is black and his mom is white.) I'm trying to find opportunities to talk about race and how our baby is going to be a different race from any of us, but I want these conversations to be somewhat organic and led by Khai. I can ask him probing questions and hope he'll go in the direction I'm hoping for so we can have a discussion about it, but if he doesn't then I can't micromanage the conversation. (Well, of course I could, but the content of the conversation would be far less meaningful to Khai. It's better to create circumstances in which he can draw his own conclusions.) In the teaching world we say that you can show a child where to look, but you shouldn't tell her what to see.
So anyway, I asked Khai if he thinks Simon and his mom look alike, hoping we could start a nice conversation about how sometimes children are a different race from their parents. Khai immediately said no, Simon and him mom definitely don't look alike. I got excited about the direction it seemed like the conversation was going to take, but I forced myself to remain casual as I asked him what's different. Khai said, "Simon has short hair and his mom has long hair." I tried not to laugh as I agreed that yes, that certainly is a difference between them. I waited for a few minutes, in an attempt to give Khai space to extend his thinking, trying so hard not to lead him to the place where I wanted him to go. After a minute or so of silence I asked, " Are there any other differences between Simon and his mom." And Khai said, "Yes, today they were wearing different shirts."
The thing is, of course Khai sees that Simon and his mom are different races. Research about racial identity tells us that children become aware of racial differences shortly after they become aware of gender differences, which happens at a very young age, usually around 2.5 years. So Khai knows that Simon has dark skin and his mom has light skin, but that's not the most salient difference between them, in Khai's mind. The fact that the length of their hair is different is far more interesting to talk about.
Khai and Simon have become quite close this year. They argue and fight, but they also have a blast and really like spending all their time together at school. The other day in the car I asked Khai if he knew that Simon is adopted. Khai said, "Yes, I knew that and I also know what a birthmom is." I was happy to hear this because it told me that Khai and Simon have obviously talked about Simon's being adopted. Khai has never heard the word birthmom from me. I asked Khai to tell me what a birthmom is and it turned out he didn't actually know, but he knew the word because he heard Simon talking about it. I explained to Khai what a birthmom is and to give an example he's extremely familiar with I said, "Like your cousins. They didn't grow in Aunt Daph's belly so Aunt Daph isn't their birthmom." Khai was indignant, "But Aunt Daph is their mom!" And I said yes, Aunt Daph is certainly their mom. A birthmom is different from a mom. Khai sort of said it perfectly.
I then asked Khai if he thinks Simon and his mom look alike. (Simon is black and his mom is white.) I'm trying to find opportunities to talk about race and how our baby is going to be a different race from any of us, but I want these conversations to be somewhat organic and led by Khai. I can ask him probing questions and hope he'll go in the direction I'm hoping for so we can have a discussion about it, but if he doesn't then I can't micromanage the conversation. (Well, of course I could, but the content of the conversation would be far less meaningful to Khai. It's better to create circumstances in which he can draw his own conclusions.) In the teaching world we say that you can show a child where to look, but you shouldn't tell her what to see.
So anyway, I asked Khai if he thinks Simon and his mom look alike, hoping we could start a nice conversation about how sometimes children are a different race from their parents. Khai immediately said no, Simon and him mom definitely don't look alike. I got excited about the direction it seemed like the conversation was going to take, but I forced myself to remain casual as I asked him what's different. Khai said, "Simon has short hair and his mom has long hair." I tried not to laugh as I agreed that yes, that certainly is a difference between them. I waited for a few minutes, in an attempt to give Khai space to extend his thinking, trying so hard not to lead him to the place where I wanted him to go. After a minute or so of silence I asked, " Are there any other differences between Simon and his mom." And Khai said, "Yes, today they were wearing different shirts."
The thing is, of course Khai sees that Simon and his mom are different races. Research about racial identity tells us that children become aware of racial differences shortly after they become aware of gender differences, which happens at a very young age, usually around 2.5 years. So Khai knows that Simon has dark skin and his mom has light skin, but that's not the most salient difference between them, in Khai's mind. The fact that the length of their hair is different is far more interesting to talk about.
Wednesday, October 16, 2013
Let's Take a Break...
Last Sunday I took Avi to a birthday party. The party was located at this big indoor playspace, the kind that hosts birthday parties all day long, scheduled back to back. When Avi and I entered the massive, industrial looking building located off of a typical New Jersey highway, we were immediately herded into a small, crowded "party room" which was next to the main play space. We were instructed by one of the employees to remove our shoes, place the gift on a table, and go back out to the playspace. We dutifully did as we were told and once we entered the playspace we spent the next 45 minutes being assaulted both visually and aurally. Visually because of the bright fluorescent lights that eventually gave me a headache, and aurally because of the loud country music blaring from the loudspeakers, in addition to the shouted instructions from the workers, who likely were hourly-paid employees who host children's parties all day long. They impatiently encouraged the children to jump on the trampoline and dive into the foam pit. Avi raced around happily, completely unaware of the fact that he wasn't following the strict party instructions.
After 45 minutes of playing we were herded into the party room, which was basically a cinder block square (similar to a prison cell, I imagine) that was jam-packed with kids, adults, cheap pizza, and balloons. The children ate pizza, sang Happy Birthday, ate a piece of cake, and then the lights began flickering violently. This was our signal to get the hell out because the room was booked for another party in 5 minutes, giving the workers no time at all to clean up and remove all evidence of our party. We jammed our shoes on, ran out the door, jumped in the car, and headed back home down the scenic strip mall highway.
What ever happened to kids' parties that take place at someone's house, not some big, overcrowded indoor playspace? Parties where the parents can hang out and drink, and the kids can run around and play whatever they want? At Avi's last birthday party we invited a bunch of friends over. The adults ate snacks and drank wine while the kids ran from room to room, then outside, then back in. Everything felt easy and fun and relaxed. After a few hours most of our friends began to trickle out, the adults tipsy and cheerful, the children hyped up on cake. A few close friends remained. They helped us to pick up cups and then we sat around the dining room table, chatting and drinking more wine. Soon we ordered pizzas and the kids and adults sprawled around the living room, eating pizza off of paper plates. Eventually everyone left, except for Nato, who was in town from San Francisco and was going to sleepover, which made the event even more festive and special. The kids went to sleep and Nghia, Nato, and I stayed up late talking and finishing off the wine.
Now that's a kids' party!
If you are planning your child's next birthday party at an indoor playspace, and your child is friends with either of my children, please do not uninvite my child to the party just because of this post. It is not my children's fault that their mother is opinionated and judgmental.
After 45 minutes of playing we were herded into the party room, which was basically a cinder block square (similar to a prison cell, I imagine) that was jam-packed with kids, adults, cheap pizza, and balloons. The children ate pizza, sang Happy Birthday, ate a piece of cake, and then the lights began flickering violently. This was our signal to get the hell out because the room was booked for another party in 5 minutes, giving the workers no time at all to clean up and remove all evidence of our party. We jammed our shoes on, ran out the door, jumped in the car, and headed back home down the scenic strip mall highway.
What ever happened to kids' parties that take place at someone's house, not some big, overcrowded indoor playspace? Parties where the parents can hang out and drink, and the kids can run around and play whatever they want? At Avi's last birthday party we invited a bunch of friends over. The adults ate snacks and drank wine while the kids ran from room to room, then outside, then back in. Everything felt easy and fun and relaxed. After a few hours most of our friends began to trickle out, the adults tipsy and cheerful, the children hyped up on cake. A few close friends remained. They helped us to pick up cups and then we sat around the dining room table, chatting and drinking more wine. Soon we ordered pizzas and the kids and adults sprawled around the living room, eating pizza off of paper plates. Eventually everyone left, except for Nato, who was in town from San Francisco and was going to sleepover, which made the event even more festive and special. The kids went to sleep and Nghia, Nato, and I stayed up late talking and finishing off the wine.
Now that's a kids' party!
If you are planning your child's next birthday party at an indoor playspace, and your child is friends with either of my children, please do not uninvite my child to the party just because of this post. It is not my children's fault that their mother is opinionated and judgmental.
Saturday, October 12, 2013
Eleven
I wrote the last post right after I had gotten home from the meeting with our social worker, when I was feeling particularly vulnerable and emotional. I think people who know me generally think of me as a private person. I dislike talking about myself beyond superficial information and there are many things about my life and my past that might be surprising to the majority of the new people who are in my life. So I have conflicting feelings about writing so publicly about my emotional state as we go through the adoption process. It is generally not comfortable for me to be so transparent. On the one hand I feel self-conscious and my usual knee-jerk desire to keep everything inside, but on the other hand there's something really wonderful about having a place to put my thoughts and feelings. There's something freeing about getting everything out in the open, about sharing the personal details of all this. The people who read my words have been so nice and supportive to me, and that's a really incredible thing. I have gotten emails from strangers, people who have also adopted who just wanted to say hi and that they are thinking of us. That's really beyond incredible. The other day Kit told me that people want to read about all of the behind the scenes information--the worry, anxiety, and fear that one might face when they are adopting a baby. She said that's the part that nobody talks about and everybody wonders about. I was going on and on with my insecure ramblings, my worry about saying too much or appearing too self-serving and egotistical. Kit said I should keep writing, and since we have been the closest of friends for the past 31 years, I tend to trust her judgment and wisdom. Nobody knows me like she does.
And it's now been nearly a week since that meeting and as it generally happens, with time comes clarity. I'm still worried about all of the possible bumps we could face, but right now I'm also a bit more aware of the ultimate truth, which is that this WILL end with our baby in our home permanently. And when that happens I know that Nghia and I will look back on the journey and we will know without a doubt that it was worth it. We really may go through a bit of agony to get there, but how could it not be worth it in the end? I'd literally walk through fire for Khai and Avi, so it makes sense that I would do the same for the next little one. Hopefully we won't have to walk through any fires, but if we do we can handle it together. Sometimes it's just what you have to do. If there's one thing I want to instill in my children, it's that they are capable of getting through hard times. Life is not always easy. Sometimes it's horrifically difficult, in fact. But it is amazing what people can get through.
Our neighbors up the street have a child who was adopted. Their son is 10 now and a very sweet, smart kid. Recently I was talking with one of the dads about their adoption process and he shared with me that years back they lost custody of a child who had been in their home for 6 months. After six months, before the adoption was finalized, a relative appeared, fought for custody and won. (This was through the foster care system, which is very different than adopting through an agency, like we're doing. In other words, this couldn't happen to us.) Here I am, terrified of losing a baby after one month and they lost one after six months. It's unthinkable. I asked the dad what that was like and his response was really beautiful and inspiring. He told me that it was very sad, that he and his partner cried a lot as they said goodbye to a baby they had loved. He told me they cried for weeks after she was gone and the sadness lingered for a long time. And then he said, "But we knew that we had helped her. We gave her a home when she needed one."
So if the unthinkable happens to us, hopefully we will be able to find comfort in knowing that we helped.
And it's now been nearly a week since that meeting and as it generally happens, with time comes clarity. I'm still worried about all of the possible bumps we could face, but right now I'm also a bit more aware of the ultimate truth, which is that this WILL end with our baby in our home permanently. And when that happens I know that Nghia and I will look back on the journey and we will know without a doubt that it was worth it. We really may go through a bit of agony to get there, but how could it not be worth it in the end? I'd literally walk through fire for Khai and Avi, so it makes sense that I would do the same for the next little one. Hopefully we won't have to walk through any fires, but if we do we can handle it together. Sometimes it's just what you have to do. If there's one thing I want to instill in my children, it's that they are capable of getting through hard times. Life is not always easy. Sometimes it's horrifically difficult, in fact. But it is amazing what people can get through.
Our neighbors up the street have a child who was adopted. Their son is 10 now and a very sweet, smart kid. Recently I was talking with one of the dads about their adoption process and he shared with me that years back they lost custody of a child who had been in their home for 6 months. After six months, before the adoption was finalized, a relative appeared, fought for custody and won. (This was through the foster care system, which is very different than adopting through an agency, like we're doing. In other words, this couldn't happen to us.) Here I am, terrified of losing a baby after one month and they lost one after six months. It's unthinkable. I asked the dad what that was like and his response was really beautiful and inspiring. He told me that it was very sad, that he and his partner cried a lot as they said goodbye to a baby they had loved. He told me they cried for weeks after she was gone and the sadness lingered for a long time. And then he said, "But we knew that we had helped her. We gave her a home when she needed one."
So if the unthinkable happens to us, hopefully we will be able to find comfort in knowing that we helped.
 |
| Avi says, "Power to the People!" |
Monday, October 7, 2013
Ten
This process is going to have a lot of emotional highs and lows, and tonight feels like a bit of a low.
We had a meeting with our social worker earlier this afternoon. Her name is Kate and she's a very kind, sweet woman, and Nghia and I are both looking forward to working with her. I feel like we are in good hands with her. The purpose of the meeting was for Kate to go through the rest of the adoption process in detail, to answer all of our questions, and to describe all of the possible paths we could go down before we get legal custody of our baby. I guess it's thinking about some of those paths that is making me feel so melancholy tonight.
I've said before that we could fall into the category of adoptive parents that are chosen, the baby is placed, both birth parents terminate their parental rights at the hospital, and we take the baby home. This is the scenario we are desperately hoping for. But there are other possibilities as well...
If the birthmother lives in Pennsylvania then we're going to have a rough road in front of us no matter what. In PA the birthmother cannot relinquish her parental rights for 30 days. (In NJ it's 72 hours.) This means that a baby could get taken from our home because for those 30 days the baby will live at our house. Kate told us that when you're in this situation you sort of have to tell yourself you're just babysitting for the next 30 days. It might be your baby, but it might not be. It might be your child's sibling, but it might not be. And there's nothing we can do about this. We can't refuse to work with a birthmother from PA.We have to be willing to work with all of the states that our agency works with. At the end of the 30 days we will find out if the baby is ours or not. If it's not, if the birthmother decides she wants to parent after all, then we have to say goodbye. Someone will come to our house and drive away with that baby. I know myself well enough to know that there's not a goddamn thing I can do to stop myself from loving that baby after taking care of him or her for a month. This possibility literally hurts to think about tonight. And it is a very real possibility.
When we got in the car after the meeting I could tell Nghia was feeling as overwhelmed as I was. He asked me what I thought and I said that I'm worried and scared. I'm worried about a baby being taken from our home, I'm worried I will get attached to the baby, I'm scared to lose a baby that I love. I asked Nghia how he felt about the meeting and he said that it seems like we're choosing to go through an awful lot of hardship to get this baby. Why would we choose to do this? I can see why people who are desperate to become parents, people who don't have any other possibilities, would have no choice but to go down this scary road. But we do have a choice. We do not have to do this.
We were quiet for a long time, each of us lost in our own little worlds of fear and sadness. After a while I said, "I still want to do it." And Nghia said, "So do I."
We had a meeting with our social worker earlier this afternoon. Her name is Kate and she's a very kind, sweet woman, and Nghia and I are both looking forward to working with her. I feel like we are in good hands with her. The purpose of the meeting was for Kate to go through the rest of the adoption process in detail, to answer all of our questions, and to describe all of the possible paths we could go down before we get legal custody of our baby. I guess it's thinking about some of those paths that is making me feel so melancholy tonight.
I've said before that we could fall into the category of adoptive parents that are chosen, the baby is placed, both birth parents terminate their parental rights at the hospital, and we take the baby home. This is the scenario we are desperately hoping for. But there are other possibilities as well...
If the birthmother lives in Pennsylvania then we're going to have a rough road in front of us no matter what. In PA the birthmother cannot relinquish her parental rights for 30 days. (In NJ it's 72 hours.) This means that a baby could get taken from our home because for those 30 days the baby will live at our house. Kate told us that when you're in this situation you sort of have to tell yourself you're just babysitting for the next 30 days. It might be your baby, but it might not be. It might be your child's sibling, but it might not be. And there's nothing we can do about this. We can't refuse to work with a birthmother from PA.We have to be willing to work with all of the states that our agency works with. At the end of the 30 days we will find out if the baby is ours or not. If it's not, if the birthmother decides she wants to parent after all, then we have to say goodbye. Someone will come to our house and drive away with that baby. I know myself well enough to know that there's not a goddamn thing I can do to stop myself from loving that baby after taking care of him or her for a month. This possibility literally hurts to think about tonight. And it is a very real possibility.
When we got in the car after the meeting I could tell Nghia was feeling as overwhelmed as I was. He asked me what I thought and I said that I'm worried and scared. I'm worried about a baby being taken from our home, I'm worried I will get attached to the baby, I'm scared to lose a baby that I love. I asked Nghia how he felt about the meeting and he said that it seems like we're choosing to go through an awful lot of hardship to get this baby. Why would we choose to do this? I can see why people who are desperate to become parents, people who don't have any other possibilities, would have no choice but to go down this scary road. But we do have a choice. We do not have to do this.
We were quiet for a long time, each of us lost in our own little worlds of fear and sadness. After a while I said, "I still want to do it." And Nghia said, "So do I."
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