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Thursday, April 2nd, 2009
It seems impossible to get attached to a person you’ve never met, and yet I apparently have an unlimited capacity for it. Last week, we heard about a little boy whose parents were choosing to place him for adoption. We considered the vague facts we were given and decided we would like to have our profile presented.
The more we thought about him and talked about him, the more we wanted him. He’s an older child, so there would be many challenging aspects, but also so much fun. D daydreamed about taking him fishing. I wanted to enroll him in swimming lessons and take him swimming often at my parents’ pool. My mom and I discussed how we’d wait and let him pick out his own bedding, and even which bedroom he’d prefer - the smaller one next to our room, or the bigger one down the hall. My dad wanted to teach him how to eat shrimp and tell him about all the types of trees he just planted.
While I was on the treadmill (I’m on an exercise kick lately), I’d imagine conversations he and I might have. I practiced how I’d respond if he said, “You’re not my real mom!” or “I’m bored” or if he was sad and didn’t know how to tell me.
Then we got the news that his mom wanted to talk to us (along with a few other couples). D was out of town for the weekend, so Saturday afternoon, I talked to the boy’s mom. This conversation was very different from my last one with a potential birthmom. Last time, the woman was as nervous as I was; she was extremely open about her situation, and she drove the conversation - asking me lots of hard questions. It felt very much like a job interview, which - in many ways - it was.
This time, the overwhelming vibe I got from the little boy’s mom was sadness. She sounded drained and emotional at the beginning of the conversation (she’d already talked to some other couples that day), and by the end she was crying, and - quietly - so was I. I hung up the phone feeling devastated, even guilty. I have been lucky in everything my entire life, except for this one thing. It sounds like this woman has been unlucky in everything, except this one thing, this little boy. And I would be taking that one thing away from her. My life from that point would be fuller, better, and hers would always have an empty place.
Still, after talking with her, we wanted this little boy even more. During our conversation, I found out he likes music, math, baking, and trying new things. He tries to be serious but has a loud laugh. He has never been swimming. He likes books about animals, but he’s never had a pet. They have talked with him about the adoption, and he is “willing.” I don’t know entirely what that means, but it sounds good that he at least has some time to get used to the idea.
Too, I felt that his mother was someone I could communicate with in future. They want letters and photos, so they can know their son is okay. Though our conversation was awkward, I don’t know - I just empathized with her. She loves her son. I know that whatever her reasons are for choosing adoption, they are real and powerful or she would never be doing this. I told her we would always let him know how much she loved him and that it was okay to miss her.
I felt pretty good about our conversation, though there was no way of knowing how her conversations with other couples went. Maybe she connected with all of them. Maybe she didn’t connect with any of us. Maybe she decided this is just too hard and chose to keep her son. Maybe she is still making up her mind.
Either way, we haven’t heard a word since. Right after our conversation, this seemed so real, so possible. Now, with every passing hour, it seems less real, less possible. I have stopped browsing kids’ bedding online and researching bunk beds. I have stopped saying his name out loud and - mostly - stopped looking at his photo. I have stopped saying, “When we get him … ”
It’s funny - I always thought I would be the type who wouldn’t get attached in these situations. I said I would guard my heart, even if we were matched with a birthmother, until the baby or child was officially ours. But I’ve found the opposite to be true. It’s hard to regard a child with detachment, especially if he might one day be ours. Instead, it keeps me up nights - all the pictures in my head. Snuggling on the couch reading a book together. Teaching him how to coax the cats to him. Watching out the window as he and his daddy fix the lawnmower. Holding his hand as we cross the street to the park.
What I keep telling myself is that we will get to do all these things one day, even if not with this child. I’m just getting very impatient for one day to come.
While I’ve never been in your shoes, I have become the older brother of two adopted sisters. The adoption process for both was done before they were even born. I was in my early teens, and now they are approaching 10 years old. It has been an absolute blessing to have them in our family’s lives. People always say that the children are blessed to have a family that adopted them. We’ve always said we are blessed to have them in our lives.
If this particular child doesn’t work out, here is the agency my parents went through to adopt my sisters: http://www.nhadoptionagency.com/
Good luck!
It’s the “When we get him…” that got me. Although my situation (all the procedures) was different, some of the feelings were the same. I used to say “When this works…” and eventually started a blog entitled “If this works”. I hated setting myself up for a downward spiral. I would grow attached to the ‘idea’ of the procedure working and the dream child that my imagination was hoping for.
Adoption is such a long, emotional process. I sincerly hope that this goes by quickly for you. The waiting for “When will we get him” is the WORST.
You’re breaking my heart! I really hope you are blessed with a child soon. I’m ready for the happy adoption post!
I’ve been reading you for a while, thanks to my hubby, and I’ve been on your side of those thoughts - only recently making it to the other side. We’ve talked to birthfamilies, we’ve been chosen and then ultimately taken advantage of, and it seems impossible to wish and wish and wish with any concept of the wise coming true. The crazy thing is, it does. It really actually happens, and it makes all the fear and worry vanish…
I know it’s cold comfort in the wait, just as when my friends said it to me. But it does get better. It does happen…
I’m hoping your children find their way to you soon…
You’ve moved me to tears on a day when my three-year-old is pushing me to my limit again and again. I obviously need to be reminded (on a regular basis) of how blessed I really am.
I, too, am praying for your children to begin arriving SOON!
You are going to be a FABULOUS mother. Do not ever doubt that it! I can tell by reading your blog that you are going to be so caring, kind, understanding, and loving with your child. You are going to raise them surrounding by love and acceptance. I love how you want the birthparent(s) to get pictures and how you want the child to know it’s okay to miss/wonder about them. Coming from an adoptee–that is so wonderful. You are going to raise a caring, loving, confident child because of this attitude.
I’m sending lots of thoughts and prayers your way as you go with this adoption process and as you wait to find out which child in this world grew not in your belly, but in your heart, and is about to meet his parents. good luck and god bless.
I was so moved by your story. I am a firm believer that all things happen for a reason. “for I know the plans I have for you..”.Jeremiah 29:11(Holy Bible). Through your words, I could feel what a great heart you possess and how you must be overflowing with love to share with a child. Your child is on their way to you. With such a heart and a natural yearning to be a mother, you will be a mother. Your time will come. It’s never at the rate of speed we desire but, it will happen. I will keep you and your family in my prayers because I know it affects every close to you. May God bless you!
Aw, thanks, guys! I really appreciate the well wishes. We did get an update since I wrote this, but all we know is that the little boy’s parents haven’t made up their mind yet. I can’t imagine what a tough decision this would be.
How can you help but become attached? I’ve not adopted, but each time I become pregnant, I try to say “if” rather than “when” because I miscarry so frequently. But that hasn’t been able to keep me from becoming attached to that little person I’m carrying. Someone I’ve never seen. Who has no name yet. Who hasn’t any hobbies or interests yet. Someone whose gender I don’t eve know. How can you help but become attached?
I hope your child find his or her way to you soon.