Theme by nostrich.
79 notes
Yesterday I was going to post about a conversation I had with Brian (still just friends- no need to ask), in which he wondered out-loud about when I’m going to move on. Something about if a baby, or my own child, is what I want then I should go for it. My post was going to be about how I realize that it’s not about “a” baby and Jacket doesn’t have to “belong” to me- I’m in love with her and staying in her life is the most satisfying thing I’ve ever done. Maybe I won’t ever have/adopt children, and for the first time I could envision being really happy and childless.
Then the agency called me about a baby. I ignored it. This new homefinding woman who called me is the same one who has called me about some other babies recently. Finally, I called her back and
THE CRAZIEST WORDS CAME OUT OF MY MOUTH-
“I really only want to adopt.” Perhaps I thought that by expressing the cardinal sin of fostering- wanting to keep a child forever— that it would put the kabosh on all of this. Instead the homefinder said “Oh, the 12 day old baby from yesterday was for adoption.” And then I said “No, I mean really for adoption. Not any of this Babies-Can’t-Wait stuff. I mean a child where four previous siblings were adopted”. And she said “Oh, I had one of those this morning, but I already placed the child. I’ve been getting a lot of legally freed babies recently.” And then, sounding like an asshole, I said “Well, I really want a girl. And a little color is a plus, too. You don’t have to save me for the white babies.” And she said “I didn’t even think to do that. All of the children recently have been Africa-American.”
She said she’d probably be in touch soon.
Holy Guacamole.