Pick me, pick me! Like Middle School Sports All Over Again.

I had a little scare with my sweet little boy yesterday.  We had been swimming at a friend’s pool for a couple of hours.  D was tired and wanted to change into his dry clothes.  He was standing with his friend at the end of the pool throwing in beach balls and then fishing them out as they floated back to the edge of the pool.   I turned to talked to one of the moms and he fell in the deep end.  I just remember hearing silence where laughter and chatter had once been.   His friend’s father was standing right beside them and was getting ready to jump in after him fully clothed, having just arrived from work.  Thanks to a summer of swim lessons, D resurfaced after a second or two and though panicked, had not swallowed any water since he knew how to hold his breath.  I was getting ready to jump in when the father was able to grab his arm and fish him out.  D was so upset, but safe.  He didn’t even choke on any water at all.  I hugged him and told him what a good job he had done holding his breath and how he had been able to bring himself back to the surface of the water.  He sobbed for a minute, denying his success—“No, I not!”.  I reassured him that even though the father had pulled him out, that he had had a big hand in saving himself.  He suddenly stopped crying and said in a happy voice “I fine!”.  I thought about that all afternoon, and ran the “what ifs” through my head.  I wasn’t too shaken by it until I woke up around 1 a.m. just sick over the whole event.  D had crawled into bed with us, and instead of taking him back to his bed like normal, I left him there.  I lay beside him and watched him sleep peacefully.  I inspected his facial features and thought about how quickly he was growing into a little boy.  His chubby little cheeks have receded into a more angular face.  He has freckles on his lips his body is strong and more lean than before.  He is handsome and funny and a fun-loving handful of a child.  I love him so much.

I thought about how often we as parents make mistakes and beat ourselves up over what we think are bad decisions.  There are no handbooks for raising children, although I feel like those of us who adopt get more of one than most with all the classes we are required to take.  But, even so, it’s sink or swim for most of us, and every now in then, we have someone bail us out, too.  This experience made me think about this questionnaire we had to fill out to be in the birthparent profile pool.  The county has a waiting list, but they also have a pool of applicants from which birthparents can choose parents for their children if it is a voluntary relinquishment.  It’s a great opportunity, but can be a difficult thing to fill out.  You want to tell the truth, but you also want to be the fun, happy couple that will make someone choose you.  And all the high school popularity issues (or lack thereof as in my case…) coming flooding back!  You are allowed three pages to answer these questions and three pages of pictures you think will show who you are individually and as a couple.  I will spare you our answers, but thought you might like to see the list of questions.  It took awhile for us to fill this out, trying to judge between how much of the truth to share and how much we didn’t want to scare anyone off!  We just tried to look somewhat normal, moderately fun, not too weird, but not too mainstream, maybe a little edgy…..oh, who am I kidding!  It is what it is, right?  Sigh.  Maybe I should just put in the one about parenting, “at least he’s still alive!”  I mean, that’s a success in my book at the end of the day.

Here are the questions we were required to answer in hopes we'd be cool enough to be chosen...how would you answer?  Kind of interesting to take a look at yourself and your relationship a little more closely sometimes. 

Following information for both applicants:

• First Name:
• Year of Birth:
• Race & Ethnicity
• Physical Description: 
• Height:    
• Weight: 
• Hair color:   
• Eye Color
• Skin:
• Why we want to adopt:
• What is each of us like as person?
• Education level and field:
• Employment (prior and current)
• Employment and child care plans when the child comes:
• Religion (how active, how we will raise our children):
• Interests, hobbies, and sports (individually and shared):
• Reading (type):
• TV viewing (type and how much):
• Music (type):
• Describe your home (What makes it distinctively yours?):
• Describe your neighborhood (urban, rural, etc.):
• Do you have pets?  What kind?
• Marriage:
• How do husband and wife share/divide household responsibilities and chores?:
• How do you as a couple/family spend your time together (i.e. how do you spend a typical weekend?):
• Brief description of childhood (number of siblings, where you grew up, relationship with parents, significant memories/experiences/etc.?)  One paragraph:
• Briefly describe a difficult life experience you had and how you learned from it (one paragraph):
• Extended family (relationship between grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousings:  geographical locations of relatives; experiences and attitudes toward adoption:
• Experience with children:
• Children in home:  adopted/biological   description/personality/year of birth:
• How are, or will, child-care responsibilities be handled between husband and wife?:
• Thoughts about relationship with birth parents:  How do you feel about:
•  Meeting the birth parent(s) prior to, or at placement.
• Updating of pictures and letters about the child over the years.
• Receiving pictures and letters from birth parent(s) over the years.
• Supporting a search for birth parents.

Would you design your child if you could?



I would never have thought to pick out his
specific looks and personality....so I'm
glad you get what you get.

There has been some controversy in the last several years over medical technology that could allow for “designer babies”—babies whose parents may at some point have the ability to choose all aspects of their physical bodies.  If this ever comes to full fruition, and is available to the masses, I wonder how many people will actually take advantage of it.  On one hand, I can understand a woman who has had four girls and desperately wants to have a son using that technology.  I can understand parents who want to avoid having a child with a physical defect or debilitating disease or a genetic disorder.  I understand the desire to have some control in different aspects of our lives.  But on the other hand, I wonder if we have fully considered the ramifications of a Bruce Almighty-esque power in which we, with our short-sighted mortal eyes, forget to consider the long-term effects, dare I say blessings, of coping with, and learning from experiences we might not have chosen.  I know girls that grew up going to church with a down syndrome girl, and I wonder if they would now, as adults, be as caring and compassionate towards those with disabilities (or anyone for that matter) if they had not grown up with her.

Front of the San Diego County Adoptions
application form.

The last thing we had to do before we got back on the list to adopt was to fill out a form, stating what we would and would not accept in a child.  It is an overwhelming task to sit down and check off boxes and fill in blanks making choices about a child that you would not have to, or get to make if you were birthing a child yourself.  I’ve included the front and back of these forms here.  (I've erased our answers, as I feel our choices are personal.)



Back of the San Diego County Adoptions
application form.

On one hand, you want to be open to all children who need parents.  On the other hand, you have a current life to consider.  What is your lifestyle?  Are you physically active?  Do you like to travel a lot?  Do you have the financial security to aid in dealing with a special needs child?  Even though there is a lot of assistance from the county, it won’t cover all the expenses.  Do you have the needs of other children in the home to consider?  After you sort through your own life, then there is the list of medical/behavioral/developmental issues to face.  You answer yes or no, and then are allowed to make notes in the comment section—“mild” or “functioning well” or some other disclaimer to your yes or no answer.  And then there are the list of substances to which this child might have been exposed.  What substance is acceptable?  And what degree of exposure?  And background issues, like if a birth parent had a mental illness or if there had been abuse of any kind.  And how open are you to continuing contact with the birth parents?  Birth grand-parents? Siblings?  And finally, your social worker makes a little note about you, assessing your needs, desires and any other information that will help them to make a good match.  Whew!  

One thing to note is that the county is required to note every little possibility about that child.  For example, if that newborn experiences one seizure, which could have been brought on by a premature delivery or drug exposure, they are required to make a check in the Epilepsy box in their file, noting that they could possibly be epileptic.  Or if they were drooling more than normal, a possible Cerebral Palsy note might be made.  Any little thing has to be recorded in the interest of full disclosure, which I totally understand.  But you can see how that might cause that child, who might actually be perfectly healthy, to be delayed in being placed because there are too many red flags.  Unfortunately, people do return kids during the adoption process, and sometimes, after it’s over, so full disclosure must be made to try to minimize these occurances.

The interesting dichotomy is this.  After we went over all of this in a class once, and we all pondered on what our choices might be and how a birthparent’s mental health might affect our child down the road, the teacher asked this question.  “If I was to tell you a newborn baby had just been safely surrendered at the hospital, how many of you would take him/her?”  Every hand in the room went up.  And yet, with that child, we knew absolutely nothing about their medical or family or drug exposure history.  At least with a child that comes with a large file of information, we have a large file of information.  With that safe surrender child, we don’t even have a name.  And yet, after picking through all the possibilities and being very particular about each aspect of what we would and wouldn't take, we all jumped at the chance to take a newborn without one shred of information.  Maybe it's not fear of the unknown.  Maybe fear of the known is worse.

A common sight--D getting air!
He's teaching me to be fearless.
(A recent photo of him at Sea World)

When I look at my sweet little boy, with his jet black hair, and beautiful skin, and his strong, stocky little body that never seems to wear out, and his funny sense of humor, and his obsession with all things transportation, I know that I’m looking at the tip of the iceberg.  Ninety percent of his life is not showing yet.  I don’t know if he will die tomorrow.   I don’t know if he will get childhood cancer, or have gross motor delays or sustain brain damage when he is twelve and never speak again, or become paralyzed in a bike accident at eight and never walk again.  I don’t know if he will become addicted to drugs as a teenager, or be diagnosed with bipolar disorder or wind up homeless or wind up in prison.  I’m hoping for the best.  I’m doing all I can to protect him and teach him right from wrong and leave no doubt in his mind that I love him, but there are no guarantees.  But, if any of those things happens, will I regret it?  Or will I send him back?  Would you ask that of a biological mother?  Of course not.  I say if you are faced with those choices, make the best, most educated ones you can, and then never look back.  Never, ever look back.

(As always, I love feedback/thoughts!  If you want to read more, check out the list to the right of the most popular posts, including ethnicity in adoption and things not to say to someone who is in the process of adopting.)