Ready to Wait
As I have mentioned previously, my wife and I are planning to adopt a child sometime beginning next year. We would love to bring a child home in the first half of 2006. The adoption process can be goofy, so it is difficult to say exactly when we will change that first poopy diaper.
Daisy, our adorable schnoodle, is not yet aware just how much her spoiled life is about to change.
My wife and I are now (finally!) finished with all of our paperwork. We had to solicit letters from each of our employers stating that, yes, we really did have jobs, and no, they were not planning to fire us any time soon. We had to solicit letters from our physicians stating that, yes, we were mentally and physically healthy enough to adopt a child, and no, death is not in our immediate future. We had to submit financial records indicating that, yes, we could afford a child, and no, our c
hild will not have to live on water and ramen noodles. We each had to complete a lengthy questionnaire, write an autobiography, and sign several releases and waivers.
Completing the questionnaire was an especially interesting exercise. My finished questionnaire ran ten pages long. Its questions were varied. Some were pretty straight-forward: “Describe your personality and temperament”; “What have been the most fulfilling accomplishments in your life?”; “List 5 important rules in your household”; “What are your plans for maternity/paternity leave following a placement?”. Some related specifically to the racial aspect of our adoption: “What made you consider parenting cross-racially or culturally?”; “Have you discussed your desire to parent cross-racially or culturally with your family? Relatives? Friends? Neighbors? What was their reaction?”; “What do you know about how racial identity develops?”. Overall, the questionnaire served its purpose: to tell the adoption agency all about my wife and me.
One aspect of the questionnaire’s tone struck me as annoying. It was written from the perspective that, if a person is not of a racial minority, he or she cannot have experienced bias, prejudice, and discrimination. My wife is a Jew; don’t tell her she doesn’t understand discrimination. And though I am a WASP, I’ve fought my own, occasionally bitter, battles with discrimination. It’s true that I have never had to walk in Rosa Parks’s shoes, but I think I’m able to be at least a little empathetic toward victims of discrimination.
Back in September my wife and I attended an adoptive parent training session. My parents were kind enough to come along as our guests. I really appreciated their willingness to take an active involvement in our adoption at such an early stage. It was at the training that I learned that my parents had considered adoption once, back in the 1970’s. I had no idea.
I can’t say that my day at the training session was the most productive Friday I’ve ever had, but it succeeded in teaching me a lot. Most importantly, it taught me that I really am sure about going through with this adoption. I am ready. My wife is ready. The session also reiterated some points that I have thought about, but I need to make sure I keep in mind. For example, it matters very little what I think about racism, or racial identity, or racial politics. What society thinks will play a huge role in how my child grows up, whether I like it or not. I may be comfortable with having a black child, but is society comfortable with it? Is the checkout lady at the grocery store comfortable with it? Are you comfortable with it? I may want to believe that it doesn’t matter what you think, but to the extent that you will interact in some way with my child, it does matter. That’s a difficult concept to get used to.
Earlier when I said my wife and I were ready to bring a baby—a black baby in all likelihood—into our family, that wasn’t entirely the truth. We aren’t quite ready because of one thing: hair. After attending the training session I now understand why so many black people shave their heads. I had no idea hair care for black people is so complicated. I mean, I knew black people’s hair was different, but...wow. I’m at an even bigger disadvantage than the average white guy because I hardly have any hair. I’ve never had much hair. I haven’t used a comb in years, and I don’t have any idea what conditioner does. I have a lot to learn about hair.
Next up for us is a home visit. Our case worker will drop by the house
to make sure it is appropriate for a child, and we will have one last interview. Then we will put together our portfolio that will be presented to birth mothers. And then we wait. I’m a bad waiter. I’m not looking forward to waiting, especially when there is no way to know how long we will have to wait. Two days, two weeks, two months, two years. Who knows?
I encourage you, the reader, to let me know if there’s an adoption-related topic you would like to read about. Don’t be shy, I’ll write about just about anything.
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