Monday, November 15, 2004
three more days
Thursday we finalize, er "consummate", the adoption of The Boy.
The Wife and I started this process in September 2003, with the state mandated class for prospective foster and adoptive parents (for tales brave adventure from the class see here and here).
At that time The Wife was not yet my wife, still just a girlfriend. We didn't have a plan. Hell, we didn't even have a clue. We didn't know who to trust.
We did, however, have a most definite goal: The Boy.
Ah, The Boy! A goal, yes. We were also blessed with the love and support of dozens of friends and family members. For that we are eternally grateful.
We learned from the class that being married would help. January 3, 2005 will be our first anniversary.
Now, around fourteen months after we threw ourselves into it, it has all come to pass. It should almost go without saying that there have been ups and there have been downs.
But throughout it all, we never wavered or lost sight of the goal: The Boy.
Which is almost ironic.
I recall the day back in June of 2001 when The Wife then girlfriend, came home from working her shift as a child-care worker at Ms. von Munchausen's so-called Home for Children with Significant Medical Needs and told me that Ms. von Munchausen had brought home a new baby, only 10 days old.
I told her to quit right then, to leave, to walk out and don't come back.
The Wife then girlfriend had been contemplating quitting for months. She was fed up with Ms. von Munchausen, and felt powerless to stop her abuse and neglect of the children. She was powerless. Literally dozens of calls the staff made to the State Child Protection Agency went with minimal investigation and no impact. She stayed for the same reason most of the staff stayed, as a buffer to protect the children as best as they could. But you can only take so much before breaking. The stress was really wearing her down.
I told her that the new baby was a ploy by Ms. von Munchausen to draw her back and convince her not to quit.
Which, in a way, I suppose it was.
(And through her decision to bring in The Boy, Ms. von Munchausen began a chain of events which ultimately brought about her downfall. This, Ms. Morrissette, unlike a bug in your wine, really is ironic. Don'cha think? Heh heh heh.)
And it worked. The Wife then girlfriend did not quit. She stayed and took care of and loved the new baby.
Over the course of a year and a half, the new baby grew into The Boy.
She brought him to our home for the first time in March 2003. She placed him in my lap as I sat in this very chair at this very desk and worked on a monumental task. I had met The Boy, of course, but this was the first real time I ever spent with him.
It changed me.
I witnessed how this child who was allegedly blind attended to the computer screen as he sat in my lap. I witnessed how this child who was allegedly deaf not only responded to people's voices, but responded differently to different people's voices.
I began to see the potential that previously only The Wife then girlfriend saw.
The Wife then girlfriend and I realized that if this child with significant disabilities, The Boy, was going to have any chance at all to really learn and grow to his fullest potential it was with us. Period. We were it.
Sure, there were others who saw the promise of The Boy: therapists, other staff, and a nurse who remains and is just as much family to The Boy as we are. But none were in a position to act. It was literally up to us. If we did not act, no one would.
The Boy would remain as a curiousity in Ms. von Munchausen's so-called Home. He would continue to be so greatly defined and described by his deficits and disabilities few would ever see the beautiful child within.
(I still hear Ms. von Munchausen's grating voice echo with a snicker in my head, talking to visitors and potential donors, "he can't [insert verb here: see, hear, feel, know, etc.]. . . he doesn't have a brain. . .")
So, it's not like we really wanted a child. Cuz' really, at the time, we didn't.
We just happened to find one who needed us. Subsequently, he made us realize that we needed him.
For that we are eternally grateful.
And in three days time, The Boy will legally become what he has been all along: My son.
|
The Wife and I started this process in September 2003, with the state mandated class for prospective foster and adoptive parents (for tales brave adventure from the class see here and here).
At that time The Wife was not yet my wife, still just a girlfriend. We didn't have a plan. Hell, we didn't even have a clue. We didn't know who to trust.
We did, however, have a most definite goal: The Boy.
Ah, The Boy! A goal, yes. We were also blessed with the love and support of dozens of friends and family members. For that we are eternally grateful.
We learned from the class that being married would help. January 3, 2005 will be our first anniversary.
Now, around fourteen months after we threw ourselves into it, it has all come to pass. It should almost go without saying that there have been ups and there have been downs.
But throughout it all, we never wavered or lost sight of the goal: The Boy.
Which is almost ironic.
I recall the day back in June of 2001 when The Wife then girlfriend, came home from working her shift as a child-care worker at Ms. von Munchausen's so-called Home for Children with Significant Medical Needs and told me that Ms. von Munchausen had brought home a new baby, only 10 days old.
I told her to quit right then, to leave, to walk out and don't come back.
The Wife then girlfriend had been contemplating quitting for months. She was fed up with Ms. von Munchausen, and felt powerless to stop her abuse and neglect of the children. She was powerless. Literally dozens of calls the staff made to the State Child Protection Agency went with minimal investigation and no impact. She stayed for the same reason most of the staff stayed, as a buffer to protect the children as best as they could. But you can only take so much before breaking. The stress was really wearing her down.
I told her that the new baby was a ploy by Ms. von Munchausen to draw her back and convince her not to quit.
Which, in a way, I suppose it was.
(And through her decision to bring in The Boy, Ms. von Munchausen began a chain of events which ultimately brought about her downfall. This, Ms. Morrissette, unlike a bug in your wine, really is ironic. Don'cha think? Heh heh heh.)
And it worked. The Wife then girlfriend did not quit. She stayed and took care of and loved the new baby.
Over the course of a year and a half, the new baby grew into The Boy.
She brought him to our home for the first time in March 2003. She placed him in my lap as I sat in this very chair at this very desk and worked on a monumental task. I had met The Boy, of course, but this was the first real time I ever spent with him.
It changed me.
I witnessed how this child who was allegedly blind attended to the computer screen as he sat in my lap. I witnessed how this child who was allegedly deaf not only responded to people's voices, but responded differently to different people's voices.
I began to see the potential that previously only The Wife then girlfriend saw.
The Wife then girlfriend and I realized that if this child with significant disabilities, The Boy, was going to have any chance at all to really learn and grow to his fullest potential it was with us. Period. We were it.
Sure, there were others who saw the promise of The Boy: therapists, other staff, and a nurse who remains and is just as much family to The Boy as we are. But none were in a position to act. It was literally up to us. If we did not act, no one would.
The Boy would remain as a curiousity in Ms. von Munchausen's so-called Home. He would continue to be so greatly defined and described by his deficits and disabilities few would ever see the beautiful child within.
(I still hear Ms. von Munchausen's grating voice echo with a snicker in my head, talking to visitors and potential donors, "he can't [insert verb here: see, hear, feel, know, etc.]. . . he doesn't have a brain. . .")
So, it's not like we really wanted a child. Cuz' really, at the time, we didn't.
We just happened to find one who needed us. Subsequently, he made us realize that we needed him.
For that we are eternally grateful.
And in three days time, The Boy will legally become what he has been all along: My son.
|
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