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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