Don't Take the Repeats

In my first marriage, there were no children. I knew this was part of the deal going into to the union. He was sterile. Now I know that it is a huge deal. Then, I thought, "we'll just adopt."

Adoption is a terrific idea. I am all for blended, adopted, united, and patched up families. For me and husband #1 though, it didn't work.

There was much work and follow through to be done in adoption. It also involved a lot of money. What I am going to say would not be popular amongst adoptive families, but since I've been through the process up to bringing home baby, I'm going ahead.

I think the adoption process in America sucks.

As I was packing up my previous home, I came across the "lifebooks" that husband #1 and I sent to one of the adoption agencies. Here we are. We are cute, thin, white, young, and oh so incredibly hip. Here we are at church. Here we are with lots of attractive friends. Here is our extended family full of nieces and nephews for your child to play with. Here is our tiny house.

Oops.

Tiny house. Old cars. Jobs with no benefits. A husband perpetually in school and a wife working 60 hours a week to keep him there.

We are dysfunctional and yet somehow get approved to adopt a child. Had we possessed $30,000 in October 2003, we would have done so.

Thank god for our poverty.

However unsuited to parent we were though, the American adoption process was perfectly willing to let us go ahead, provided some girl chose us (pick me! pick me!) and we had enough cash to fork over.

Positive point now.

I had to sit through (and pay for) an entire counseling series where I learned how to parent someone else's child.

As of July 24, 2006, I am officially parenting someone else's child. The bonus is that her father is parenting her too.

I am a stepmom.

Lovely is now part of my family. We will always be connected, and yet there will always be something in our way. Wait, I know this one; I will be her family and she will have her other family.

Blah blah blah.

The bottom line is that I have a child. What I have wanted so badly for these past years is here. Well, she's here 50% of the time. Which is about 50% of the time less than I wish she was here.

I got to pack a lunch last week. I didn't pick out the lunchbox, and sure, there is her oh so dear mother telling her that I'm a whore, but I got to pack her lunch.

There was a PB&J, some blueberries because she told me she loves blueberries, some applesauce, a napkin, some organic string cheese, and some totally bad for you yet containing no transfats cookies. All I lacked was a note, but I can't do that lest her mother finds it and yells at Lovely for eating food I prepared.

She is such a good kid. I'm sure there will be bumps in the road, but man, she is such a good kid. I don't know how I got to be so lucky.