So, we got married... which really has nothing to do with our recycled child hunt, in fact it distracted much of our emotional, physical, fiscal and creative energies from the active pursuit of parenthood, but it became the opportunity for our families to join forces with us and meet for the first time.
But then again, getting hitched in public actually has everything to do with becoming parents. Foster/adopt parents are very different from birth parents because those of us who can't get pregnant (by accident or even by 'working at it') we become parents solely and strictly on purpose- and the bureaucracy and paperwork required to become on purpose parents is soul-killing. So, we got married, not because it was overly important to us, but because it made us more of a family to everyone else... and in doing that it made us more of a family to and with each other. And it ended up being very important. So, the joke ended up being on us.
Canada and I thought we already were family, we felt married from almost the very beginning of our union, but actually standing up and getting married in front of assorted people was surprisingly transformative and powerful to us both. We were humbled by all the love and support we both felt from family members we rarely see and friends and immediate family who have seen us through this courtship, and our first marriages and many other crazy-pants relationships.
Planning the wedding took most of the year, working out to fit in the dress took the rest of the year, we didn't plan a honeymoon, we really just wanted to throw a big fun awesome kickass party with a harmless ceremony beforehand. We barely registered for anything because we don't really need anything, other than to own our own home and get a kid... any kid at all.
So we weren't even focused on wedding gifts. We decided folks could give us cash if they felt keenly about giving us anything at all- and we'd put it away in a 'buy a house before menopause and wattle fund'. It was embarrassing to set up a Deposit A Gift cash registry- telling folks to give you money because you got married is not something that makes a great deal of sense to me. And even the money coming in doesn't make it feel less awkward.
We were dealing with setbacks all year with the Foster Agency. We rolled our collective eyes when we got the email from the Foster Agency- "we thought you were so motivated a year ago! Why didn't you finish all the requisite paperwork?" Turns out they either lost our fingerprints for Adoption or they never gave us the right paperwork. They never received our CPR certification from the sexy unemployed actor in the Valley who teaches CPR to wide eyed women who gave up on finding a man to sperminate them. We dutifully replaced the finger prints and paid for it. Again. Did you know you can get fingerprinted at the UPS Store? Well, now you do.
Watching other friends have babies and adopt babies was joyful, not upsetting in the least. Maybe there was a little twinge here and there, wondering what our mingled hair, fingernails, eye colors and personalities would inspire in another human being, but we were dyed in the wool foster parents- we drank the Kool Aid and we were proud of being helpless cogs in the underfunded and overwhelmed bureaucratic hamster wheel that is the California Foster System.
People would ask, 'When are you having your home study?" because they knew the steps as well as we did, after asking for months, "When are you getting your baby?" We even called the agency right after the wedding to find out if they received our prints. They never called back. Oh well. We'd smile and be brave, knowing we had no choice.
Then we received a card in the mail. The game changer. A beautiful wedding card, with a check for a honeymoon, which was shocking and flabbergasting. Then we read the card and we are still reeling.
It was beautifully worded offer to help us find a child sooner- via the wonders of adoption lawyers. Canada's extraordinary brother has offered to share his family's great good fortune with us. Basically we were given a blank check to leapfrog over the fingerprinting, the reading up on fetal alcohol syndrome, the home study, the subtle casing of our home, and how we live and how we treat each other, to weed out whether or not we would harm someone else's already damaged child. And all my previous doubts and fears over whether I really wanted a child completely evaporated in the face of actually being able to have some control over how we get one.
For me it was a no brainer. Why stay rooted nobly in one stupidly slow and painful place if you don't have to? I'm turning 49 in mere days, and in foreign countries we are already too old to recycle one of their kids. It will take 7 to 9 months if we start right now, if we are lucky. We are still recycling a needy child, it's just a little less completely DIY and a bit more Martha Stewart fancy schmancy. I strapped my Virgo on and got busy.
I immediately called friends for adoption lawyer recommendations. Within two phone calls I had the guy my friends used and the guy my father used for my baby brother and sister. It's the same guy- the 'only' adoption lawyer in LA- 'everyone goes to him for their babies'. I figured out how much it could run us (or him) and then ran into the brick wall of Canada's feelings.
Oh... this is marriage. How you negotiate the gulfs between you is what makes a marriage. Not how you face the stuff you are in agreement on. Canada needed to process the extraordinary generosity of the offer and he had to give up the mantle of benign goodness that waiting for the system was enveloping us. There is something emasculating in not being able to easily afford what a sibling can easily afford to give, but we made peace with ourselves and the gift. Our gratitude is boundless and humbling. People are extraordinary if you let them. We are full of grace as bestowed on us by those who love and root for us.
And we are still staying in the foster system. So... one we'll buy. The other we'll rent... to own.
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