Comfort kills. I heard that in some advertising campaign a while ago. I don't mean it literally, because I actually like being comfortable. I mean it in an broad figurative sense. Getting complacent with your life and yourself kills the potential human you could be. Casey and I, a long time ago, dreamed of adopting a "little" girl. I say "little" because we never really imagined ourselves adopting a baby. We knew we didn't want to dip below the age of 5. There are so many kids ready to be adopted right here in the US foster care system. They all have a back story, and NONE of them are responsible for how they ended up there. This morning we head to our social-workers office to discuss our potential matches.
I could go into a preachy, don't blame the children for the crime of the parents speech here, but instead I want to share the personal side of this decision. After all, it's the personal side that is interesting, no one cares what socio-political view point sparked the initial motivation. This process is beautiful and terrifying all at once. Since starting I have seen my family members in ways I never could have if we'd remained complacent, and my love for them has grown profoundly deep.
I have not met many men that would agree to bring a 10-14 year old girl into their family. Most men steer clear of girls that age, and rightfully so, they can be terrifying little balls of raging hormones. My man? He said let's go to the classes. I think he may have had a Daddy Warbucks fantasy at first, he does LOVE to be the hero. I was sure to burst his bubble at every opportunity. I have been working with At-Risk youth most of my adult life, and I knew he needed to go into this with eyes wide open.
As we went through classes I watched his perceptions of foster-care adoption change. His altruistic rosey picture became more real. He came to realize that even though our future daughter WANTS a family, she won't (most likely) want a "replacement" family. She will have memories, yes even fond ones, of her own biological family and we must respect those. He came to own the role of Father for a girl means something that is much different than it is for our boys. I think he relishes that fact.
Our approval was official last Saturday. While I jumped up and down and sang in celebration with our sons I failed to notice my understated spouse slip away. A few minutes later, when I realized he was gone, I went to look for him. I found him upstairs pouring over the adoption listings for girls in our age bracket. He didn't even notice me enter the room. His dark brows were pinched in concentration. This was his celebration. The rest of the weekend he perused listings, tried to find more information via Google, and narrowed the listing down to three different girls, two of whom were sisters (we want them both).
As I watched his intensity I realized that I whatever I thought the measure of his heart was, and I thought it was huge, I was wrong. It's bigger than I had fathomed. Its funny that we forget our spouses are people, individuals. After, gosh, 12 years of marriage, I had begun to see him as an extension of me. In this moment I came to appreciate him the way I had 12 years ago, only this time with clarity. He is beautiful. Can I say that about a man? A stinky, deep sea diver man? It is true.
He was viewing these three girls as though they were daughters already, I could see it in his intensity. He'd been this way before, with our sons. Whenever the boys need something, be it a toy repaired or medical attention, his entire posture changes. He comes nearly robotic, his brows pinch together and his eyes become fixed. There is no talking to him then, he is mission focused. To see him this direct this energy at POTENTIAL offspring humbled me, and filled me near to bursting.
The adoption has allowed me to see my spouse as a human being! A human being with a mansion of a heart, and an bottomless well of a soul. My wonderment of his beauty has been not re-born, but re-constructed. Because of this journey, and his refusal to be complacent I have seen more of who he is than ever before. I feel incredibly fortunate. His babies (11 and 8 now) are little reflections of the quality of his life. I'll save that entry for later.
