We adopted Eleanor at birth. Three and a half years later, we found Rosalind through the Washington State foster system. The girls were born just two weeks apart, so nine years later they are growing up as virtual twins.
After Rosalind came to live with us, we told the folks at the foster system we would be interested in finding a little brother for the girls. We had a preference for a boy in the one- to two-year-old range. Having already been blessed with a vomiting newborn, twice, we were hoping for a placement that involved sleeping through the night.
We braved the adoption roller coaster for two more years before being matched with our son. For example:
Like many people enmeshed in the foster system, the birth mother had already relinquished multiple children she could not parent. Neighbors adopted one boy, now age two. Then the struggling mother gave birth to another boy, now almost one year old.
The same neighbors took in the second boy and raised him from birth. The social workers hoped the siblings could stay together. But after a lot of prayer, the family decided they weren’t in a position to go through with adopting another child. So the foster workers selected us as potential adoptive parents for the boy.
This time we actually met and held our would-be son, in the same agency conference room where Rosalind first met us the prior year. On our way back to our car, a woman in the hall noticed my partner and me together. It was the current foster mother. She figured out we were a gay couple and connected the dots.
The next day our social worker called. Our placement had fallen through. She sheepishly told us the neighbor changed her mind and decided to adopt the second boy after all. I guess it’s better to grow up with straight parents who never wanted you, rather than be exposed to the gays.
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