There are so many things to consider when looking for an adoptive family to care for your child. When I found out I was pregnant, it took me about four months to really get started with the adoption process. The idea of placing my child with a family I’d never met was gut-wrenching, even if the pregnancy was unplanned and difficult.
Regardless of the circumstances, I only wanted the best for my child, as I’m sure all women do who decide to place their children. It was an intense process that took months of paperwork, therapy, prayer, and faith. However, after the remaining five months were over, I was positive I’d made the right decision; there wasn’t a doubt in my mind. It was still hard, and I still feel a tinge of loss every now and again, but never regret for the decision I made.
When looking at profiles of families who wanted to adopt, there were seemingly innumerable factors to consider: Did I want an open adoption? Did I want the parents to be the same race as my child? Did I want them to live in a certain state? Did I want them to prefer my son’s race? There were so many questions it made my head spin, but I ultimately narrowed it down to two big factors. They had to be willing to have an open adoption, and they had to live close enough to maintain the openness I needed. While that may seem a bit lenient, I can assure you, once I narrowed my list down, that’s when the questions really started.
When I first saw my son’s family, some of my initial thoughts went like this: They look nice. And look! They have daughters that are different races. (Samantha was fair and blonde with the brightest blue sapphire eyes, and Callie was dark with rich, black hair and a smile that could light up a room!) My son could fit into that. It would make it so much easier!
The internal debate was exhausting, but I eventually realized that it was because I was fighting what was right.
But then I thought: What about all these other families that didn’t already have kids? Would it be unfair of me to place my son with a family already blessed with two children and make the other families without children wait for another birth mother? I continued searching. But no matter what criteria I added and how many questions I asked, this family always popped up and remained in my search results. The internal debate was exhausting, but I eventually realized that it was because I was fighting what was right. From all the available options, I heavily considered two families, both of whom already had kids. I sent them both an introductory email and hoped for the best.
After a brief wait that felt like an eternity, I received an email back from the family with the two beautiful daughters. We emailed back and forth for a few weeks and as I got to know them, they appeared to be more and more like the family my son was supposed to be in. We eventually exchanged phone numbers and had a few chances to talk over the phone. The feeling was so strong that it didn’t take long after that to set up a face-to-face meeting. I had already heard their life stories and how they all came to be one big happy family, so when we met, it was like seeing old friends after years of separation.
Upon first seeing one another, I was struck by how amazing those little girls were. I don’t think I will ever be able to accurately describe that almost immediate love I had for them that has only strengthened over the years. They had the potential to teach my son so much. From these innocent, pure, light-filled girls, my son could learn true joy, charity, patience, understanding, equality, responsibility, respect, and so much more. Could I really say I want the best for my child if I didn’t give him this perfect opportunity?
As our first meet-up drew to an end, I let them know I had chosen them to be the family to raise my son. It was at that moment that I knew I’d made the right decision. These people, this perfect combination of all four of these very specific individuals, were the intended family for my son, the family God, destiny, luck, or chance would have for him. This. Is. His. Family.