Drama 2B Mama

Acta est fabula

2010-02-03T07:00:00.008-07:00

The drama has been acted out.

Most blogs are a process. But this one has been a project, and the end of it has come. This means there are no new entries, but the old entries are still available (and relevant to anyone musing about infertility and/or adoption) through my archives (see StoryLines on the left).

Years have passed and we now have nearly a decade of adoptive parenting under our belts. I chronicle some of those moments on my main blog, Write Mind Open Heart. Over the years I have become a strong advocate of child-centered open adoption and have published several articles in Adoptive Families magazine.

I invite you to subscribe to Write Mind Open Heart for entries on parenting, adoption issues, politics, trivia, and Perfect Moment Mondays.

Please also subscribe to the Open Adoption Examiner, where I serve up open adoption news weekly.

If you're embarking on or in the midst of your own adoption story, I send you my very best wishes for a smooth journey.

Now, come visit me at Write Mind Open Heart -- often!

Legal sequel

2010-02-01T07:00:00.000-07:00

(Fall, 2003) -- Our agency counselor, Sheryl, visits our home a few times, and we take more parenting classes at Lutheran. Six months pass and it’s time to go to court again. FOR THE LAST TIME!

Much as I love Sheryl, I am ready to be finished with social workers.

Same month, same judge. In October, we again go into the judge’s courtroom to finalize Reed's last name and to make us legally a forever family. Grandparents, aunts and uncles surround us to share our joy in welcoming Reed as a card-carrying member of our clan.

We remind the judge (who himself has been through three adoptions through Lutheran) that he presided over our daughter’s adoption almost exactly two years ago. He shows us photos of his family, and poses for photos of our momentous day.

We go out for brunch, secure in the knowledge that WE’RE DONE WITH AGENCY HOOPS! Woo hoo!
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Thinking the unthinkable

2010-01-29T07:00:00.001-07:00

(Spring-Summer, 2003) -- I have never been a depressed person. I have had sad times, but I get through them. But now, my therapist notices that I am speaking in sweeping generalizations. Example: “I am the biggest loser in the world, and I deserve to be miserable.”

She thinks the depression might be chemical, and she encourages me to ask my doctor about anti-dep.ressants.

I don’t like to take medicine, but this seems necessary to the health and well being of my family. I begin to take a very low dose of an SS.RI (Selective Sero.tonin Re.uptake In.hibitor). After a few weeks, I begin to feel better.

I try to figure out what’s going on in my body. I discover that serotonin is produced during deep sleep. No wonder I’m feeling like crap –- I’ve been getting no REM or deep sleep.

Later in the season, in a message surely meant just for me, my mail carrier hands me the current Adoptive Families magazine that holds a feature article about PADS: Post-Adoption Depression Syndrome. This monster inside me has a name! I am not the only monster in Adoption World!

As I'm working on the physical aspect of the depression, my counselor is helping me with the emotional. She suggests I envision disrupting the adoption.* It's something that's really, really, really, really hard to think about. What kind of a person would do such a thing? Oh yeah. Me, the monster.

What will happen to Reed? I ask, in tears. What about Michele? I cannot go back on my word to her. My counselor tells me that none of that matters: I simply need to decide if I want to parent Reed.

I manage to form a scenario in my head where I disrupt the adoption. In the imagining, I tell Roger I can't parent Reed. I tell the agency and they come for Reed. I weigh this scenario against trusting the process and knowing that this wrinkle will work itself out if I just outlast the monster.

I look hard at my choice about releasing Reed. I realize I HAVE bonded to him. I DO want him in my life. I AM his mom.

I am finally able to break free from the grip of the monster. The freedom of choice, the article on PADS, and the anti-depressants (which I stop taking a year later) bring me back to center. I finally can feel gratitude for all my blessings. And parent Reed wholeheartedly.

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* For the record, I don't believe this exercise was actually about disrupting the adoption. It was about getting to the place of choice. My counselor trusted this process when I was unable to. And I'm deeply grateful :-).
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Everything I wanted and nothing like I thought

2010-01-27T07:00:00.000-07:00

(Spring-Summer, 2003) -- I did it. I completed the plan I had for my life. Met a wonderful man, proposed to him and got married. Traveled the world together and had loads of fun. Grieved and recovered from the setback of infertility. Became the mom to the most perfect daughter and son. Several weeks after all my dreams came true, I should be happy. Deliriously happy.

But I’m not. And I can’t even blame hormones for my moodiness. I become depressed, edgy and easily upset with Roger, Tessa and Reed. I am supremely pissed at myself. I feel guilty for not being 100% grateful for all I have. I fall into the dark abyss of self-loathing. It seems bottomless because I keep plunging. Falling, falling. Spiraling down.

I see my counselor. I am stuck, I tell her. Stuck with a life that is no longer my own. Stuck with a colicky newborn who keeps me up much of the night. Stuck with a toddler who sucks my energy by day. Stuck in a hell I don’t have the resources to deal with or get out of.

I am not bonding with Reed. I bonded instantly with Tessa, and I am panicked about this un-liveable situation. Is it because he is a boy? Because he is the second child? Because I didn’t attend his birth, and I missed his first few weeks of life? Because I am a waste of a human being?

Years ago, to heal from infertility I had to recognize that I DID indeed have choices. My counselor helps me see that I have a choice: I do not have to parent Reed. Finalization is still months away.

She encourages me to sit with this awhile. To KNOW that I have the option to back out.
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Denver, we have a problem

2010-01-25T07:00:00.000-07:00

(Spring-Summer, 2003) -- I am not bonding with Reed.

I am mad because he does not let me sleep.

I feel more like a reluctant babysitter than a previously eager mom.

And I hate myself.

This is gonna get bad...

How the #*$% did mom do this?!

2010-01-22T07:00:00.001-07:00

(Spring-Summer, 2003) -- Now I am a SAHM (stay-at-home-mom). But before kids I was in the world of academia. I ran adult education programs (which really is nothing like adult movies or adult bookstores) at a state university. I got a charge out of making lists and checking things off as I got them done. Checking was a terrific motivator. In fact, I was known to add items to my list that I’d already done – just to check them off.

But I’d retired my daytimer once I left the paid work world to stay home. After all, I didn’t have courses to schedule, students to check up on, instructors to negotiate with. Just a 2 year old and an infant. I’d have no problem getting things done -– I’d have all day to take care of things, right?

Wrong. Roger comes home at the end of the day and I shove Reed at him. Take him! I exclaim. And Tessa too. They’ve kept me from doing anything on my To-Do list! Roger is kind enough not to mention that I’m still in my pajamas.

Dishes are piled up almost as high as the laundry. We’re running out of formula and wipes, since I didn’t quite make it to Costco. I have no idea what we’ll have for dinner tonight. It could be Cheerios, except that we’re also out of milk.

And for all I know we could be in danger of having our electricity shut off. Or the phone or the sewer. The bills are in disarray, and my once perfect system for paying bills at just the right time has been shattered. I have no clue about our financial picture.

How did my mom do this? She had three kids and I have only two.

I have plunged from being a valued employee to an incompetent, bathrobe-clad lame-o who is incredibly busy all day (24 hours!) but gets nothing done.

Tomorrow I'll at least get dressed. And check that off my list.

Wordless Wednesday: Girl meets boy

2010-01-20T07:00:00.002-07:00

March, 2003

Wordless Wednesday

I am the anti-help

2010-01-18T07:00:00.001-07:00

(March, 2003) -- At the end of the Entrustment Ceremony, there are tears of all kinds -- of infinite bounty and of immeasurable loss.

I am at once full of gratitude and love and joy, and also of the unbearable grief that is just now hitting Michele. I long to reach out to her.

But I have absolutely no power to help Michele. I am the anti-help. I am both allowing her have the life she envisions for herself and taking away the new love of her life.

She and her roommates leave the conference room. I hug her on her way out, but I can tell she just wants to have the decision executed and behind her.

We gather our things to go home. I am surrounded by my parents, my husband, my daughter and my son.

My heart feels like it might burst.

Entrusting

2010-01-15T08:00:00.003-07:00

(March, 2003) -- Cheryl, Michele's counselor, begins our Entrustment Ceremony.

("From Loving Arms to Loving Arms" courtesy of Lutheran Family Services of Colorado)

We meet today on truly hallowed ground. A child has been born to a family who was not in a position to become his parents. A family is standing with love for a child and could not conceive a child. Surely the hand of God has led us to this moment.

A blessing for the baby
Dear God, You are the birthparent of us all...we ask your blessings upon us as we gather out of love for this dear child.

Bless this new life, dear God, and watch over this child in the years to come. This child is made in your image...innocent, pure, remarkable and holy. Bless this child's waking moments and sleeping dreams.

May this child thrive and grow into a beautiful person. May this child always feel surrounded by love, faith and hope. Amen.

A prayer for the birthparents
Dear God, be with Michele and Andy. You know how very deeply they love this new child and how painful this is. Give them the strength and courage to trust and follow their hearts and the decision they have made in entrusting their child to others to become their new family member. Give them your comfort in the days to come...especially in the moments of doubt and sadness.

Bless the holy union that they have created with Lori and Roger, the parents they have chosen. Help Michele and Andy realize their dreams, knowing that your love surrounds them. May they live their lives with eyes that shine, blessed by the knowledge that they have done everything in their power to honor this blessed child. May they know peace. Amen.

FROM LOVING ARMS TO LOVING ARMS

(Michele places Reed in my arms.)
(and there are no words to describe)
(either my emotions or what I think Michele is feeling)

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.
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A blessing for the Adoptive Parents
Dear God, bless Lori and Roger as they become this child's Mom and Dad. We know that they cherish this child, and that this is a day for which they have waited a long, long time. What a gift and honor it is. Be with them on their journey as parents.

May Lori and Roger know your strength when the days are trying and the nights are long. Give them the gift of humor, and patience, oh Lord. Help them, over the years as this child grows, to honor the exquisite individuality and the unique person this child will become. May Lori and Roger always cherish and nurture the relationship with Michele and Andy, honoring their gift of the opportunity to parent this precious child. Let them welcome this baby into their arms, their hearts, and into their lives, surrendering themselves to parenting, with you as their guide.

There are tears in every corner of the room.

Laying eyes on our son

2010-01-13T07:00:00.000-07:00

(March, 2003) -- Sheryl calls later that afternoon to tell us Michele has decided that we are to be this boy’s parents. We are to come back to the agency’s offices the next afternoon to meet him and bring him home.

We go into a mild state of shock. In adoption, your whole world can change in a heartbeat. We are finally going to complete our family. We think. You just never know.

This time we bring Tessa. My parents also come to share in our special day. David’s cradle care parents are there, too – they’ve been taking care of David for the past two weeks while Michele made her decisions: first she had to be clear that adoption was her best choice, and second she had to decide who would be her son’s forever parents.

My parents and Tessa head for the conference room. Roger and I again greet Michele in her counselor’s office. This time, in her arms is a tiny bundle of blue. The baby boy was barely 5 pounds at birth, about a month ago. He is ravenously hungry, eagerly slurping the contents of the bottle Michele is holding.

I see her mixed emotions on her face as we enter the room. She silently braces herself. She is relieved to be done with this painful decision, but she knows she is experiencing her last few moments of parenting this baby. She greets us, but no smile is forthcoming. I cannot imagine what she is going through.

She allows me to hold her baby. Her baby. The baby. The baby. Our baby? Our baby.

I gaze into the deep blue abyss of his eyes. His body responds as if he, too, is bracing himself -- for yet another caregiver. His arms become rigid, palms balled up into fists, and he tries to focus on my face. I hold him closely and begin to coo and sing soothingly. Roger is looking over my shoulder, seeing all that is and will be for our family.

Cheryl herds us into the conference room, where Tessa is holding court over Michele’s three college roommates and David’s cradle care parents. Cheryl guides us through introductions, and says we’ll now begin our Entrustment Ceremony.

In a moment of group reverence, we all bow our heads.

Match meeting

2010-01-11T07:00:00.001-07:00

(March, 2003) -- At the agency, Michele’s counselor, Cheryl, invites us into her office where Michele is already waiting for us. Is this the woman who will make us parents of a son?

Michele, 23, is petite and warm, with a beautiful smile that seems reserved for special people and occasions. She has clear, fair skin and blond hair. She is very focused on why we are here.

Cheryl encourages Michele to begin. “So, what kind of relationship do you see us having over the years?” Michele asks, relaxing in her chair.

We tell her that we have enjoyed a fully open relationship with Tessa’s firstmom, and that it has been positive in every way. We tell her the door is as open as she wants it to be.

“I chose you two because you’ve already done an open adoption. I’m not sure exactly what I want, but I’m glad to know that you have been true to your word with another birthmother.”

She asks about our parenting style, our extended families, and she wants to know a little about our home. We provide answers.

Cheryl begins to wrap up the meeting by telling us what the next step is. Rgerb decides he’d better make his move.

“Is ‘David’ a family name?” he asks Michele, a bit gingerly.

“Oh, no,” Michele explains. “I was still in shock that I'd had a baby and someone came in to tell me I needed a name for the birth certificate. I picked David…well, just because.”

“How would you feel,” Rob tip-toed, “if we chose another name? Would you like us to keep 'David’ in some way?”

“Oh, gosh no!” Michele said. “What name have you chosen?”

We tell her “Reed,” and that it comes from Roger’s family. She seems pleased.

Michele says that she wants to make a decision right away and get her son out of limbo. He’s now nearly a month old, and it’s time for him to be with his forever family, she says.

The meeting is soon over. Cheryl and Michele will continue a counseling session without us. Our counselor, Sheryl, has told us that if Michele makes up her mind today, we’ll have our Entrustment Ceremony tomorrow.

How can 16 hours manage to seem like 16 centuries?

Vetoed names

2010-01-08T07:00:00.002-07:00

(March, 2003) -- I got to choose Tessa's name, and Roger got to choose our son's. We each had veto power over the other.

So here are the 3 vetoes I exercised -- see if you agree with me:

Mungo (Irish for "dear one"). Sweet, but, ummmm .....NO.
Odysseus (Roger was trained in Classical Studies). Before kids, we once went to a party where no one knew us. I asked Roger to try on the name for the night. So we introduced him as Odysseus to everyone we met. Not ONE person used his name or even asked about it. Rog-dysseus became somewhat of a non-person that evening.
ZOLTAN! The birth certificate would be in all caps, with the exclamation point included.

Keep in mind I met Roger while he was doing comedy improv, so I'm not sure how serious he was about these...but I'm glad I had the veto pen.
We ended up with an off-the-beaten-path (but not too) and strong Irish name, for which I'm substituting "Reed" in this public arena.

The longest weekend

2010-01-06T07:00:00.000-07:00

(March, 2003) -- Sheryl finishes the call by telling us Michele wants to meet with us early next week. If all goes well, we’ll bring our SON home the next day!

The weekend is a whirlwind of getting ready. We get the bassinet out of storage. We rearrange Tessa’s room to make space for a baby. We get out all the bottle and bath paraphernalia that had been put away several months back. We buy itty-bitty newborn diapers. We tell our families. We think of names.

"David,” while a perfectly fine name, is not on our list of boy names. We are not sure how attached Michele feels to it, and we brainstorm our own list anyway. Roger comes up with a name from his family tree, Reed. We plan to propose it to Michele when we meet her.

We are nervous and excited and full of both expectation and trepidation. How will we wait a full weekend for this story to unfold?

The Lowdown

2010-01-04T07:00:00.000-07:00

(March, 2003) -- Sheryl, our agency counselor, fills us in. David (as his mother, Michele, has named him) was a complete surprise. While preparing for midterms about three weeks ago, Michele’s college roommates rushed her to the hospital with suspected kidney stones. But she ended up in Labor & Delivery instead.

Doctors determine the baby was about 5 ½ weeks early, and he has some respiratory challenges that keep him in the hospital for nearly a week. This gives Michele a chance to figure out what to do. She decides to parent this adorable and tiny blond boy, and lines up help from her mom and Andy, David’s father. Friends also promise to support her until school is out in a few months.

Within a week, though, things fall apart. Michele’s mom lives 70 miles away from her school and just can’t help as much as is needed. And while details on Michele and Andy’s relationship are sketchy, he also proves not too present or helpful. Friends have their own lives and problems. And David is colicky. Michele simply can’t make this huge and immediate adjustment. Wanting some guidance and perspective, she calls Lutheran Family Services for counseling.

To give Michele the space to make such a monumental decision, Lutheran places David in Cradle Care. This is like a foster situation where loving people (in this case, a couple who built their family through Lutheran) care for a baby while a mother decides what is the best course for her and for her baby. She takes about two weeks to come to a decision, visiting David nearly every day, and showering her love on him.

I can't even imagine being faced with this situation. Most people who have experienced the "famine" of infertility can't fathom the "feast" of an unplanned pregnancy. I am eternally grateful that Michele made this decision carefully and with a loving heart and a clear head.

Looking at all the factors that only she can know, Michele decides adoption is the best path for David and for her. When she's ready, Lutheran offers her The Book of waiting couples.

She chooses us.

Battle, Blizzard, Baby Boy?

2010-01-01T07:00:00.000-07:00

(March, 2003) -- I'm watching TV with a sense of doom, feeling like there is a cannonball in the pit of my stomach. Soldiers are on the move...aircraft are dropping explosives...dying has begun while I am awaiting life. The United States has just gone to war against Saddam Hussein's regime in Iraq.

In my little world, Denver is socked in. The biggest snowstorm in 90 years hits during Spring Break, and nothing moves in the city for three days. A city bus is stranded on our residential street. Tree limbs litter lawns, roads and cars as snow weighs down blossoming branches. The snow has stopped but gigantic drifts remain. Snowmen are just waiting to be made corporeal.

Because of the snow day, Roger is home with Tessa and me. We plan to bundle up and go sledding down our street.

When the phone rings.

“Hi, Lori. This is Sheryl from Lutheran Family Services. I’m actually calling to talk with Tessa.” Sheryl giggles, obviously loving this part of her job.

I put the handset on speaker-phone and hand it to my daughter. “Hi, Tessa. I’m calling to see if you’d like a baby brother…”

My heart stops. A baby? A boy? Roger overhears from the next room and rushes in. I reach for something to takes notes on and with, and try to get my 1001 thoughts to line up single file.

The Psychic and the Intuitive

2009-12-30T07:00:00.001-07:00

(February, 2003) -- The weekend before Edna’s death is Valentine’s Day. We take a family trip to visit my sister, Sheri, on the other side of the state.

Sheri has befriended a psychic, and as a result is developing her own intuitive power. The psychic tells me of a dark-skinned boy coming to us in the fall. Are we adopting from another country, she asks? No, I reply, and she looks puzzled.

Sheri, on the other hand, sees a blond-haired boy coming to us in February or March. I pin her down –- you know how psychics can be. “Which February or March?” She tells me this one, 2003.

That doesn’t give her much leeway. It’s already mid-February. She sees our baby coming within 6 weeks??

I am both skeptical and hopeful.

The Circle of Life

2009-12-28T07:00:00.000-07:00

(Fall, 2002 through Winter, 2003) -- Tessa and I have been volunteering with a hospice organization. We are assigned to Edna, a woman who is dying. Each week we visit Edna to talk, sing (she loves old hymns), sit in silence, and follow her lead.

Edna is 92 years old. She delights when Tessa and I visit her home, although much of my attention goes to keeping my 20-month old from destroying any of the many low-lying knick-knacks.

Edna’s only company is her home health care assistant. Her husband died decades ago and they never had any children. She tells me she always wanted a passel of kids, so she became a nanny instead, and raised 13 children who belonged to other people.

I tell Edna Tessa’s adoption story, and that we are waiting to bring home a brother or sister for her. She tells me God’s will always comes to pass, so to trust in that. Because we don’t sidestep the fact that she’s dying, I make the same request to her that I did to Cappie two months before Tessa was born. I ask that after she dies, if she finds a soul who is looking for a good family to join, to send that soul our way.

We’d been visiting Edna since Halloween. One day in mid-February, Hospice calls to say Edna has begun the active dying process. Tessa and I hustle to her home, but we arrive about 30 minutes too late. Tessa and I say prayers and send Edna on to her state of grace.

Meaghan's Baby

2009-12-25T07:00:00.000-07:00

(January, 2003) -- I take a crash course on bi-polar disorder in children.

In a weekly email, Lutheran tells all waiting families of a situation. When circumstances are less than ideal, rather than show an expectant mother The Book of waiting couples, the agency instead asks waiting couples to opt in. This way, the expectant parents face less risk of being rejected by the couple they choose.

This is one of those situations. Meaghan is considering adoption for her unborn child, due in two weeks. Both Meaghan and the baby's father seem iffy on relinquishing. In addition, both parents have bipolar disorder. And some grandparents have it, too. Should we opt in?

I visit Dr Google and find out there are varying types of bipolar disorder. I talk with a friend who struggles with the least disruptive type, and a friend of a friend who raised a severely bipolar child.

These conversations portray a harrowing picture. But in the back of my head, I continue to assert that nurture can triumph over nature, and that being raised in a loving and prepared home can mitigate this devastating (in its severe form) condition.

After much soul searching, Roger and I decide not to place our profile in front of Meaghan. If this were our first child, we might be able to parent this baby, whom I have already begun to love. But with Tessa to consider, we decide that this baby is not meant for us.

When I tell the agency, our counselor tells me that no one else has opted in. Suddenly, the decision has to be made all over again. Is this a sign for us? Is this our situation after all? How in the world do we access the wisdom to know what to do?

We’ve been waiting nearly five months. What if this is our one chance? Will we be "punished" for turning away from this baby by never being chosen again?

Ultimately we stick with our original decision. I cry many tears during and after, praying that Meaghan and the baby end up well taken care of.
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Misery loves company, and there's a lot of both

2009-12-23T07:00:00.000-07:00

(January, 2003) -- Our agency aims to keep 20 couples in The Book at a time. When it runs low, Lutheran holds another round of Adoption School.

Now it is not low. It is high. To address the frustration of waiting families, the agency has begun sending out weekly emails with updates in activity levels. In addition, Lutheran has called a meeting at the home of one waiting family.

We’ve now been waiting 4 months. At the gathering, we meet 17 other couples, some who are in their third year of The Wait. Ugh. How depressing for us all.

Lutheran announces that they’ve arranged for clients in the Domestic Infant Adoption program to switch to either the International Adoption or Foster/Adopt programs. What makes this a big deal is that the client’s money transfers with them. Switching into a more active program no longer means starting over financially.

Several clients immediately make the switch. Margo, a friend from our first Adoption School nearly two years ago, eventually completes her family through the Foster/Adopt program. One afternoon I saw Margo in an ice cream shop with her 4 year-old son; an hour later social workers brought two more children into her home, and are now part of her forever family. Things can change that dramatically that fast.

The number of couples waiting in the Domestic Infant program drops quite a bit in the coming weeks as many switch programs.

And still we wait.

Dearth

2009-12-21T07:00:00.002-07:00

(Fall, 2002) -- It seems 9/11 has had a significant impact in the adoption world. Our agency tells us that around the country, activity at agencies has slowed to a crawl.

The waiting pool at our agency swells. We could be in for a very long wait.

Second verse, different from the first

2009-12-18T07:00:00.000-07:00

(Summer, 2002) -- Our challenge in composing our first profile was how to look like parents when we weren’t. (We selected lots of photos of us with our nephews.) Part of the reason Crystal chose us was because she wanted her child to be the first in a family.

So if Crystal is a “typical” firstmother, we won’t be able to offer that “first-ness” anymore. Instead, we focus on our ability to provide a new baby not only parents but also a spirited sister. In addition, we worry that if we show how much we love Tessa, it may look like there’s no more room in our lives for another child. These are the challenges in composing our second profile.

We note that our hearts have been stretched beyond boundaries, and that with children, you don’t divide love, you multiply it. We emphasize that Tessa has broken us in and that we are now “experienced” parents. And we show that Tessa has toys and a room to share.

As I’m working on the final printout of the profile, Tessa (now 17 months) falls face-first off the couch onto hardwood floors and breaks her nose. She screams all the way to the ER, where she has an entire waiting room of people who talk with her and share their stories. All this attention calms her down immediately. The ER doc tells us the nose will heal on its own.

We submit our profile the next day and head for a family vacation on a sunny beach. By being away from home, I’m less tempted to check in every two hours to see if we have been chosen yet (yes, I'm that pathetic).

It’s September of 2002, and the country is remembering a devastating day one year before.

Homestudy, Take Two

2009-12-16T07:00:00.000-07:00

(Fall, 2002 ) -- Sheryl from Lutheran Family Services conducts our second homestudy much like the first. It’s still nerve-wracking. The first time around I didn’t worry about her noticing the Cheerios ground into the carpet.

You’d think that for being repeat customers, adoption fees would be reduced significantly. After all, the agency knows us well and should be able to spend fewer resources being able to vouch for us. But as it happens, the fee is reduced only by $1000, a small fraction.

I realize that much of what we pay goes to counseling people in unintended pregnancies. Some of them make adoption plans and some don’t – but all who come are helped. I don’t begrudge Lutheran this, although I’m not happy about watching our small savings account evaporate.

Again we have to provide references, tax returns, credit histories, and driving records. We both have physicals, and we both get fingerprinted. Have our prints changed in the last 18 months? Why can’t they just run the same prints through again and save us the hassle?

We also have to re-take the marriage test. We scored quite well the first time, but not so well this time. We didn’t fail, but we do some areas of stress.

Ahhhh, parenting.

Square One

2009-12-14T07:00:00.001-07:00

(Spring, 2002) -- Fast-forward to Tessa’s first birthday.

Crystal, son Tyler, mom Cheryl and friend Tara join our family and friends celebration. Tessa smooshes chocolate cake all over herself and it’s a delightful day.

I tell my mother-in-law that we’re going to start the ball rolling for a second adoption.

“Ohhhh,” she says with a bit of dread. “Are you sure you want to so soon? I mean, if the second adoption goes as quickly, you will REALLY have your hands full.”

I reconsider our pending action. With adoption, family planning is so uncontrollable. We could end up with children 13 months apart, or 5+ years apart. Did we just get lucky with a short wait the first time? Should we wait to begin waiting again?

The busy-ness of life with a toddler takes some of the indecision out of our hands. We aren’t able to get to the second application for several months.

I watch Tessa playing in the sprinkler.

Could I ever love another being as much as I love her?

Tessa Goes to Court

2009-12-11T07:00:00.002-07:00

(Fall, 2001) -- There is one last hurdle. Six months after Tessa’s birth, Lutheran has gotten us on a judge’s docket to finalize our adoption. Could these years of feeling powerless about becoming parents finally be coming to an end?

By coincidence (or some nudging by Lutheran), our hearing is in front of a judge who has adopted two children through our agency. My whole family is in the courtroom for the happy moment (which literally takes about a moment), and afterward the judge kindly comes down from the throne and allows us to take photos of him and our newly legal family. He also shares that he and his wife had been through a third adoption, which ended with the firstparents reclaiming the baby. He’s walked even farther in our shoes than we have.

He obviously takes delight in presiding over adoption proceedings. He explains that adoptions are the only cases when his courtroom is happy, unlike other civil and criminal cases.

We leave for a celebratory breakfast knowing that soon we’ll receive Tessa’s birth certificate WITH OUR LAST NAME!

Wordless Wednesday

2009-12-09T07:00:00.000-07:00

(Summer, 2001)