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As I sit on the beach and watch the families play in the surf, I can’t help but notice how carefree they look, how much they enjoy their day just being together. Of course, I don’t know any of their stories…but they each have one…and I want to share our’s with you…I want to give you HOPE, no matter where you are in your “family” life.
The thought of adopting a child is a simple one, you become a parent to a child who needs a parent. Giving birth is not the same as becoming a parent…parenting has A LOT more time, emotion, and commitment involved, but without the birth, there can be no adoption. Many people who give birth also parent their child, but sometimes, because of circumstances none of us can TRULY understand unless we walk in their shoes, a birth parent cannot be a forever parent. Some parents adopt children of their spouse, and I’ve even read about some children who’ve adopted their parents! Mr. D and I have many “brothers”, “sisters”, “mothers”, and “fathers”, “sons” & “daughters” who also make up our family, ensuring us that parental love will endure.
After our dinner with Kathi and Mr. R (see my post “When It Is Dark Enough You Can See the Stars….”) sharing the news that they were going to pursue adoption, foreign adoption, to be exact, Mr. D and I could talk of nothing else. The loss of our four pregnancies, four BABIES, was still very fresh. During those years of hope, loss, hope, loss we were on a roller coaster of emotions as well as medical testing. We were tired, numb, sad, and at times, I was despondent. At one point I tried HARD to get Mr. D to leave me, to start a new life with a woman who could easily give birth, to start a family the “easy” way. Those who know Mr. D know that he is quiet, loyal, a “thinking man”, and he would have none of it. He told me that it doesn’t matter to him if he creates a child the “easy” way or NOT, that as long as he always has me by his side, he would have everything. How could I push this man away?!?! He wanted to, and has been the best husband, friend, love of my life, and yes, father, that I could ever hope for. I gave up trying to push him away, and instead, focused on this new experience for us….the roller coaster ride of adoption.
We were more fortunate than many, after all, we had Kathi and Mr. R to blaze a trail for us with their adoption experiences. They pointed us in the direction of the agency they were working with for foreign adoption, and we eagerly made our first appointment. Foreign adoption to US couples is well established in many countries, sometimes for decades, so we knew we had the greatest chance of becoming parents of a foreign-born child. We were the youngest couple in our group, still in our 20’s, so some foreign countries were not open to us for adoption. Many had a requirement of at least 5 years of marriage, so at least we could easily check that box. We received a caseworker assignment, a BIG packet of paperwork to complete, and an overview of the process of foreign adoption.
Our caseworker was certain to point out that the process of foreign adoption could take at least a year, maybe longer, and the quicker we got all of our documents in order, the quicker we could apply for a child. Many countries did not have newborn infants available since the timing and coordination of travel could take months, so we opened our minds and hearts to toddlers and young children.
Mr. D worked more hours to fatten up our savings, a requirement for adoption for more than we have ever saved then, or since. I tackled the mountainous paperwork: immigration & naturalization, FBI, state, and local background checks, home-study, passports. It certainly kept our minds and hands busy, and we slowly allowed HOPE to creep back into our hearts. We had to “interview” each other to fill out questionnaire after questionnaire, piecing together tidbits of our personal life so that someone who would read it could make a mental picture of us and our lives, to mark us “approved” to parent a child we did not give birth to.
I had finished my tour of duty with the Army, and now worked as a civilian in a hospital laboratory, filling my days with other tasks, keeping my eye on the clock for when I would be free to fill out more paperwork. After all of it was in order, we poised ourselves for our home-study interviews, three to be exact, held in our home by our Social Worker caseworker, who would ask more questions and check to see if our place was “fit” to raise a child in. These times brought new stresses… it never escaped me that if I gave birth to a baby, no one would check our “fitness” to be parents, or if our home was a “perfect” environment to raise a child. We had to follow the rules, even if they hurt us as much as the medical tests…
In those days, I didn’t allow myself to be a “DIY’ER” or thrift store “addict”, our home had to be “picture perfect”, at least in my mind, so that left no room for “gently used”. All the stress benefits as a “DIY’ER” could have been used to get me through those days… Mr. D and I carefully shopped for furniture with “baby” in mind…no sharp edges, comfortable, durable. We bought an oval coffee table, solid oak, with end tables to match, perfect for our first house, our home. At one of our Social Worker visits, our caseworker ran her hand over the edges of our oval coffee table, and told us we’d have to “replace” it, because it could pose a danger for a little one if they were to fall and hit their head on it. No sharp corners. No rough edges. Beautifully made and finished smooth. I cried almost an hour after she left, certain that we would be “rejected” as parents over our choice of coffee table. Poor Mr. D…there was little he could say to console me, I felt like our life was literally under a microscope. We never did replace that coffee table….
We prayed together and alone, planned a bit (no baby room or furniture), and told everyone who cared that we were awaiting a “new arrival”. After nearly three years on the foreign adoption waiting list, we were almost sure of two things: our “new arrival” would be a boy, our SON, and that he would be from the Philippines. We enjoyed many cultures while serving in the Army, and had many Filipino friends, so we could easily immerse ourselves in learning more about the culture. Mr. D and I had to attend “parenting” classes for adoptive parents, covering topics from diapering to teenagers! It was really hard to imagine what our choices might be in a certain “teenager situation” when we were note taking about colic! At times, we felt like we might be “overqualified” to parent, having been presented with so many scenarios to consider & plan for before we even named our son!
During our wait, Kathi and Mr. R added a son from Korea, and were awaiting on a daughter to join their new family, also from Korea. They were very encouraging to us, and we could see (and hold!) the fruits of their labor! Our days continued to turn into weeks, and months, and we too grew older. Mr. D turned 30, and we were inching on 4 years waiting on adoption.
Then, one Thursday afternoon, while at work, I got a phone call that would change our lives FOREVER! We were about to take another roller coaster ride…and this one would make us PARENTS for the first time!
