Marriages end. Romantic love fades—or at least waxes and wanes. But the first time you hold your child in your arms, you know that you are now joined as one, parent and child, for as long as you live. And, even if that relationship ever grows toxic or estranged, parent and child, you shall remain forever.
For my partner and I, and our family, that moment of no return came when our daughter was over a year old. And how she came into our lives became irrelevant as quickly as we fell irrevocably and madly in love with our ever-fascinating child. Five years on, our lives revolve around screentime limits, non-stop questions, the squishiest hugs, the wisest observations, the funniest jokes, and incessant eye-rolls from the resident six-going-on-sixteen little person in our lives. Meanwhile, the paperwork, the long wait, and the judge pronouncing the order that joined us as a family forever are only distant memories.
But over these five years, I’ve had several prospective adoptive parents reach out to me with questions, worries, and doubts. Will I love this child as I would my ‘own’? What will I do if people I love discriminate against her? How will I tell him he was adopted? Why should I tell her she was adopted? When should I tell them? And, how do I stop my heart from breaking when I gather the courage to tell them? The answers are simple and start from a singular truth. You are parent and child. Forever.
Unconditionally Forever I don’t have an adoptedchild. Instead, my child came into my life through adoption. And adoption doesn’t have to be a scary word. It doesn’t matter what led you to become a parent: great sex, a petri-dish in a laboratory, or truckloads of paperwork. All that matters are the bright eyes that light up your life. And so, adoption was just the process. It is also an essential part of your child’s history, which they have the absolute right to know. Tell them, be honest, use age-appropriate stories, meet other families made from adoption. But it’s unquestionably the right thing to do.
I talk about adoption to everyone who asks, looks curious, or gives me the slightest opening. I’m an over-sharer, and my Facebook timeline is filled with unthought-through posts with #TMI. And thus, I open myself up to comments and questions that range from how ‘noble’ we are, how ‘lucky’ she is, and whether we know who our daughter’s ‘real parents’ are. I try to answer each question logically, unemotionally, factually—because often, people really don’t know any better. And I’d like to do my bit to hopefully open someone’s mind enough to have some child somewhere find their way to their forever family.