This is an ongoing meditation on the process of adopting a child. I’m mostly through the logistical and ID hoops and mountains of paperwork. Soon I’ll be in the “pool” of eligible adoptive parents.
My life has intersected with a lot of other people’s so far on this adoption journey. One person I’ve met is a tiny little woman named Pam, whose beautiful, spunky blonde daughter came to her through adoption. Of all the formal classes, interviews and Q & A sessions I’ve had with the professionals, I’ve learned the most from Pam.
One thing she told me is to consider fostering — her daughter was only 5 days old and an emergency placement. With nothing but faith that it worked out, she loved that child as hard as she could, knowing that it could end soon. Two years later, it all became legal.
Another thing she told me, as I continually freak out about childcare, is about a referral site for licensed daycare providers. I went there, and scrolled down the list of names. Iris. Lucy. Bella. All names I like. As I clicked on each one, I felt like I knew even less than when I started. I imagined me and my bundled baby visiting each day care, refusing it for a funny smell, a creepy little kid like Chucky, a strange vibe from the owner. I imagined running out in tears, not wanting to loosen my grip on the baby. Which leads into something around not going back to work, and getting fired. Which maybe will maybe be the catalyst to my life on welfare — kind of a boon for the freelance opportunities though. But then there’s the health care issue and maybe baby and I would just have to go back up to the woods and eke it out ourselves. I’ve done it before.
Or maybe I’ll just find someone, when it’s time.
When I was a nanny, one of my parents (I thought of them as my parents, and my kids) told me how weird it was for her to drive away on that first day she left her son with me. She said “I just had to have faith that it would be ok.” I had always thought how crazy it was that these people left their kids with me and how lucky they were that it was me – not that I think I’m so particularly awesome, but I’m a good person, and I felt a deep responsibility to deliver these kids back at the end of the day, safe and sound. I’ve never thought that about any other job in my life – that my employer was really lucky to have me, in particular, rather than someone else.
It’s a big tough decision, childcare, but I think if you don’t let it make you go crazy, trust your gut (the real gut, not the one that makes us all panicky) and then trust someone and work with that person to make your child’s care a good experience, it’ll be pretty great. At least, I know that I look back at that time in my life with all those parents and kids as amazing and remarkable and life-changing. I hope they to do.
It will all happen–exactly as it is supposed. I see love everywhere around you.
I know you’re worried about child care, but believe me, it will all work out. The right solution will find YOU when you need it and then you’ll wonder why you spent so many months stressing about it. xoxo.