Getting left at the altar

Anyone who has ever been a parent is going to laugh at what I am about to say.

I finally get it now. I get what my mother has gone through. I get how parents can behave in the seemingly most hysterical and irrational ways sometimes, overcome by emotion about their kids.

I always want to smack some sense into them and say cool it. It can't be that hard.

Well...I am starting to get even the tiniest inkling of what parents go through, and we still haven't even been parents for even a day.

It's one thing that we've started to envision ourselves as parents and wanted to be the saviors of all the poor innocent souls out there in need of our love and attention. Just knowing they're out there and reading about their cases makes us anxiety-ridden every moment of the day hoping they're okay.

Then, for the first time this weekend, we met some of the kids out there who are in need of families. These are the kids for whom reunification plans have been terminated. They have no hope of going back to their birth parents, so they need permanent families desperately.

There was one little guy we had the chance to spend some time with and right away we wanted to be his family. We found out he has a big sister that he's very close to and wanted to be her family as well even though we had never met her. It was merely because she was important to him, and we wanted to do anything in our power to help.

The minute we go home, we did some digging and learned of all the ugly things going on these kids' past, and our hearts were breaking in ways they never had before.

We had spent one afternoon with this little guy and suddenly felt responsible for everything that happens to him. It was to the point that we were willing to turn the world upside to help him, ensure he was okay. It's only been two days and yet it feels as though we've known him since he was born. And, we're ridden with uncontrollable guilt because we couldn't go back in time and stop all these horrific things that had happened to him years ago.

Well, fast forward a couple days later, and we've thrown our hat in the ring to be considered as potential adoptive parents. In the system, they refer to this as matching. If it sounds like a lot like online dating, it's because it is. You have people who know nothing about you or the kids aside from what's on paper, and they are in control of whether you even get the chance to go out on a date. So, the chances of getting a marriage proposal come few and far between.

Our adoption manager looked more deeply into the case and very politely told us she strongly advises against pursuing this one. The level of care these kids require far exceeds what we'd be able to provide.

Well...not one to be told no, I'm still open to learning more. But at the same time, I am more grounded in reality. I don't want to put myself or my existing family into a situation where everyone is worse off than before. I certainly don't want to put these kids into a situation in which they are worse off than they would be otherwise.

So, it's not back to the drawing board. It's continuing to be open minded and not putting all our eggs in one basket. As they keep telling us, the right child will come along. I know it's not just about the planets and stars lining up. It's about the right match between the needs of the kids on our strengths in terms of meeting those needs.

We're continuing to keep hope alive while staying grounded in reality. Every kids we meet will always have a special place somewhere in our hearts. Some of them we'll get to stay in touch with and make a difference in their lives. Others we may never see again. Amidst all that, we know that some day we'll get that chance to walk down that aisle.

Imaginary children

For the first time, we attended a support group for ‘unconventional’ parents. That is… a group for gay dads and prospective gay dads. Though it was new to us, the group has been around for a couple of decades.

I loved it. For a lot of reasons I loved it. It meant meeting new people, hearing new stories, having a new system of support. But, I think the most fulfilling thing about it was the fact that some of the dads brought their kids along with them. Not just pretend or hypothetical kids. Not even actors. They were real children with gay dads like us.

It provided a glimmer of hope and helped bring some calm and realness to our situation. Because, after months of paperwork, parenting classes, fingerprinting, reading articles and trying to learn as much as we can, adoption, foster parenting and other non-traditional ways of building families had started to feel like something that just happens in the movies and on tv or at least something that only happens to other people somewhere else. It didn't seem like any of it actually happens in the real world.

Seeing these dads interact with their kids, play with them, correct them when they misbehave. It was pretty amazing. And, what’s more, we got to interact with the kids as well. It gave us a tiny taste and was almost kind of a tease. But, we loved it.

They’re real! I said. They’re not just kids we hear stories about. THey're really here. This really does happen.

It reminded me of the importance to have faith in what’s realistically a dysfunctional system and faith in ourselves to know how to provide the right degree of patience and proactivity to start building our own family.

While it’s painful to wait — and painful to come home to an empty room with no kids in it every night — I’m not losing hope. There are kids everywhere, and they’re people just like we are. They need to know adults care about them, believe in them and are ready to help them become the amazing people they are capable of becoming.

In my career, whenever I've taken on the reigns of a new project, the first step has always been working as a team to create a shared vision. Before you can make it real, you need to be able to see it.

So, while we've seen that the children out there who need us are definitely not imaginary, it is still okay to imagine that some day some of them will come join our family. Because, if we can envision it happening, we’re one step closer to making it real.

That’s where we are now. We’re still closer to the imaginary side of the spectrum. But, with every experience we have, there are hints of realness. That’s what’s comforting and enables us to cope with the waiting, the frustration and exhaustion from pressing so hard to get seemingly nowhere: understanding that we’re not going nowhere. We’re going somewhere. Perhaps very, very slowly with lots of bumps on the road along the way, but we’re still on the journey. It hasn’t ended, and it won’t. In fact, any time now it’s about to begin.

The right child will come along.

We began pursuing parenthood a little over three months ago. It may as well be ten years ago the way it feels. Sometimes it can be challenging to separate the way things feel and the way they are. Nonetheless hubby and I are trying.

Though it’s our first time, we’ve heard tons of stories over the years from those seeking alternative ways of becoming parents — alternative to the “traditional” way I mean. One consistent conclusion drawn is that it takes a lot of time and patience.

Well, patience is not something we have a great deal of when it comes to dramatically life-alerting events. We were pronounced husband and husband about six months after I proposed. Escrow closed on our home exactly 30 days after we started chatting about ‘Hey, let’s go shopping for a house.’

When we decided to start talking about becoming parents, we weren’t in a rush. In fact, we had a lot of reservations. What if we’re too old? What if it disrupts our lives in negatives way? Well…let’s check out some agencies and attend some orientations, we told ourselves. A little information never hurt anyone.

Then about a month later we were ordering furniture for the kids room.

Fast forward two more months, and we have a freshly painted, furnished kids room but with no kids in it.

And now, here we are: A couple in our (ahem) mid-forties who have never been parents suddenly experiencing empty nest syndrome. Strange how that happens.

We’re trying to be patient. Even though it’s hard, patience is important when it comes to things in life that are important.

“The right kid will come along,” the folks at our agency say. Reading and hearing others’ stories, I believe that’s true. It just goes against my nature to wait patiently.

When hounded by propaganda that so many thousands of children are waiting desperately for loving homes, it’s hard to feel as though sitting around listening to the clock tick is the best way to help.

Shouldn’t we be a little more proactive? we ask ourselves.

So, we are trying to be proactive as well as patient. We’re signing up with organizations that offer opportunities to mentor and advocate for older kiddies in need. We’re joining up with a group for gay dads and even attending a pot luck this weekend (time to brush up on my casserole-making skills). I’ve even started building relationships with folks working within the big bad COUNTY system. Heck…it helps to learn about and understand the territory.

So, if you have ever wondered what it’s like for a middle-aged married gay couple in Los Angeles in the 21st century, this is what it’s like. It’s a balance of being proactive and patient.

With each passing experience we become slightly wiser and more savvy about how things work.

We will continue to document the journey of very little — and yet a whole lot — happening all at once.

Breathing deeply now and remembering: the right child will come along. 

New year. New Beginnings.

When I was a child, my father often reminded me (as many fathers do) that ‘life isn’t fair.’ It never made much sense to me when I heard it as a child. Why not? Why isn’t life fair? Shouldn’t it be?

Well…fast forward to now, and I am in my [ahem] middle ages, and I understand my father was right.

I had a phone conversation with my adoption worker. She told me things I had already figured out on my own. While it’s helpful to validate some of the observations I have made in recent weeks, i.e., that the system is severely broken with lots of disconnects and can be incredibly frustrating to navigate.

What's more it means there are many thousands of kids in need of a loving home and many hundreds of prospective parents like me ready to provide it, and yet we can't seem to connect all the dots effectively. And, so we end up with a lot of losers. 

I knew coming into this that the system was broken. I knew case workers were overwhelmed and under-resourced. So, I am not sure why I am surprised that people haven’t been beating down my door trying desperately to invite the most needy kids in the county to come join our family.

‘What a beautiful home,’ everyone says. ‘You are going to make such amazing parents!’

‘Thanks,’ I invariably reply. ‘I am looking forward to having the chance.’

One must never lose hope.

The holiday season is over, and the social workers are returning to the office, schools are back in session and it means many new opportunities for new stories, new problems and new solutions.

I absolutely believe there are thousands of kiddies out there desperately in need of a home. I just don’t yet know how to find them and welcome them to join our family. But, I am determined to find out.

With the new year, I have resolved to intensify my efforts. It’s not enough to hang around and wait for the phone to ring. I am apparently in competition with hundreds of other waiting parents out there.

We need to put ourselves out there and let the system know that not only are we ready to be a part of it, we’re ready to work to understand it and even make it better.

Having had a little extra quiet time recently—in  a house full of empty rooms—I’ve thought about how my father was right about the unfairness of life. And I realize that in being right, he taught me a very important lesson…probably THEE most important: It’s not worth spending time and energy being angry about things beyond your control. It's how you cope with the unfairness of life that counts.

There are so many kids out there who desperately need to learn that lesson. Kids who have experienced unfairness to the depths I can't even imagine. And they need to know that somebody cares enough about them to be a teacher, a mentor a guide and just someone they can lean on while working through the unfairness.

Hubby and I are ready to get out there, make the connections and become the parents the world needs. While 2018 was about paperwork, fingerprints and parenting classes, 2019 will be about actually becoming parents. The road to making that happen starts now, continues tomorrow and the next day...and the day after that. And for years to come.