Sometimes, life doesn’t seem to go the way we would like it to. We don’t get the job that we are desperate for. We run into unexpected financial woes. We lose a family member. A number of things hit us in difficult ways, and we are forced to cope with the circumstances. Usually, we come out stronger, sometimes with the realization of who we truly are and the measures to which we will go to fight back against hardship. I have known loss, disappointment and frustration. I know that I will continue to endure through the rough times of life. But this. This could possibly be the worst.
At this point in time, Mr. Keckles and I are not able to go through with the adoption. Through unforeseen circumstances and a tough decision, we are re-examining our goals and means to reach those goals. We appreciate any and all support that our friends and family have offered, to keep us pushing forward.
Originally, when we first found out about the kiddos, Thing 2* and Thing 3* were in a home together and had been for a while. Thing 1* was in a home by himself, on a TARC plan, tracking his development and making sure there weren’t any major issues. We were overjoyed to know that the girls (Thing 2 and Thing 3) were together and living life as sisters. Today, we found out that all three of the kiddos have been moved into the same home. What a wonderful family they must be with, a family willing to take care of and love on all three of them. While this is wonderful news, it also brings doubt to my mind.
There are very few things that could get in the way of this adoption, money being one of them, something I try not to let my mind dwell on. The other hindrance would be the idea that we are not the best family for these children. In the end, we must be chosen as the best possible option by all their workers and caretakers. It is assumed that there are not many families willing to adopt 3 children at once, especially at such young ages and so close together. The fact had been considered by my husband and I, but never really dwelt upon until now, with the knowledge that there is at least one foster family willing to take care of all of them now.
So, what if we aren’t chosen? What if we aren’t the best family?
Then so be it. From the beginning, this has been about the kids. We know that we have what it takes to be great parents. We know that we are ready for the chaos that will ensue from the time they enter our home. We know the emotional energy it will take to raise abused and neglected children. But it’s not about us. We are simply opening our home to children that need one, be it these three beautiful Things, or another family of Things in the future.
*Disclaimer: We obviously do not consider our potential adoptive children as “things,” but want to offer them a title for you to follow along with throughout our story. The number beside their title refers to their approximate age, for your reference and guidance.
I was never really upset for myself with the possibility of infertility. Yes, it’s disappointing to think about, but I have only been sad for my husband. I have considered adoption for many years, and am kind of relieved at the thought of not having to endure the torture that can be pregnancy. Not meaning to put myself up on any type of platform, I merely wanted to state that to help you understand the following story a little better.
A few weekends ago, I decided to go through what I call my “treasure trunk” My mom has been working on filling this trunk most of my life, with the trunk itself arriving during my high school years. Filled with old school papers, numerous pictures and awards, it is the trunk of me. There were a few things I wanted to add to the already stuffed trunk, so I thought it was time to go through and weed a little bit. While I ended up mostly embarrassed at my former self, I also experienced a bit of loss. You see, my mother and I are almost mirror images of each other. Even though we are 18 years apart, we could be mistaken as sisters (if only she would realize that she looks good in jeans and throw off those old track pants). My middle brother and I share my father’s temperament, while my younger brother and I share the same dark hair and thin build.
People won’t say of my children, “She has your nose” or “She throws fits just like you and your brother.” And yes, I understand this is completely narcissistic. But I wouldn’t mind having a little girl that has adorable brown hair like I did, or a little pudgy boy like my husband used to be. In exploring the possibility of infertility, I need to begin processing these facts and potentially beginning to mourn this loss. Adoptive moms, did you go through a similar phase? Am I just being completely selfish here?