Skip to main content

Closing in on our final court date

Our adoption is almost complete.  We had our last required visit with the social worker last week and now we wait for our final day in court.  Part of the process in Wayne County, Michigan is to write a letter to the court, stating that the child has bonded with our family and we would like to have her as our daughter.

There is no standard form for the letter, only the requirements that we state her birth name, date of birth and, if you are changing the child's name, what the name should be on the amended birth certificate.  

As I was writing, my mind started racing to all of the little things she does that melt my heart.  When she's particularly happy, she will pat my shoulder approvingly.  She's always liked cuddling, but the best is when she sits on my lap, wraps her little arms around my chest and squeezes like she's afraid she'll never get to squeeze me again.  When she started daycare, I was careful the first few months when I went to pick her up because she would start running toward me the second she saw me and her balance isn't always the best.

I couldn't help but reflect on just how much she's grown in the six months she's been in our home too.  The Kid has always been a happy kid, with big, expressive, beautiful brown eyes.  She was learning to crawl when we met her, now she wants to run everywhere.  She was eating pureed food at every meal, tonight she ate tortellini in a marinara sauce with her fork (yes, it was messy). 

Rather than bore you with all the legalese, here is an edited of the letter we sent to the court:

The Kid has been in our home for six months, and our hearts have grown immeasurably since then, filled with love for her.  She is a loving, compassionate, spunky and energetic little girl.  Her spirit makes our little family feel complete.
Like any first time adoptive parents, we wondered if she would bond with us.  Any doubt we had was quickly erased, as she fell asleep in Gladys’ arms on the day we met her.  As we started visiting her in her foster home, she started recognizing us when we came to the door, eventually clamouring to leave with us as the duration of our visits grew longer and longer.  
Since she’s been with us, we have been able to witness many of her firsts.  Her first steps, her first birthday, her first trip to the beach and her first parent/teacher conference at daycare.  We are close to hearing her first words too, as she loves to talk and sing but has not quite figured out how to do it on our language.  Her personality is beginning to blossom and we are enjoying watching her bloom.  
The Kid also turns to us without question when she needs her Mama or Papa.  When she is excited, she looks to share her joy with us.  When she is sad, she looks to us for comfort.  When she is unsure, she looks to us for reassurance.  We are her parents.
We are not saviors.  We are not doing anything more special than people who have children naturally.  We simply wanted to be parents and were unable to do so on our own.  Adopting Abby is giving us the chance to understand the joys and heartaches of parenthood.  


Popular posts from this blog

Our family became whole because another family fell apart

A co-worker shared a powerful story from Huffington Post with me today. It was one adoptive mother's account of the days from meeting their birth mother to walking away from the hospital with their soon-to-be-adopted daughter in tow. I almost cried reading it because I can relate to the story in many ways, especially the feelings of uncertainty that are ever present until you see the amended birth certificate in the mail. 
"Bearing witness to her sorrow, I realize BabyMama is also experiencing three days of labor. As we text and grieve, we experience the contractions of the heart and body and mind together." -Kathleen Dennehy 
Our situation was different. The family in the story had to wait for three days in the hospital while the birth mother had to make the impossible decision to surrender her child for adoption. The Kid's foster mom had taken her home from the hospital and cared for her until her birth parent's legal rights to custody were terminated. We met h…

To a generous young trick-or-treater for his kindness

Our neighborhood is unbelievable on Halloween night. Starting about 6 p.m., our street is packed with trick-or-treaters. If you don't start stockpiling candy early, you could go broke trying to keep up with the crowd.

The Kid doesn't really like the trick-or-treating part, she loves to hand out the candy. She ventured out twice, once with me and once with Grandma, but returned because she loved being the helper kid who was making everyone enjoy their holiday.

One young man hesitated at our door after she stuffed a few treats into his bag. If I had to guess, he was about 10 or 11 years old himself. He started fumbling in his bag, pulled out a treat and said, "This is for her since she hasn't been out trick-or-treating for herself."

I think he was a little embarrassed by our effusive praise of his generosity. He didn't have to do that for our little Wonder Woman. She was having a great time and has a boatload of candy from her two tours of our block. But he wa…

A random conversation at the Peninsula Grill

There were four of us seated at the bar last night at the Peninsula Grill, a regular on the end to my left and a couple at the other end on my right. I purposefully picked the middle of the bar so I could watch the Tigers game while journaling in peace. Between finishing my soup and my whitefish arriving, I had managed to fill almost an entire page.  

I write letters to The Kid in the journal. Someday, I will probably give it to her. Many of my letters are simple remembrances of the funny things she said, accounts of the astute observations she's made or me reminding her future self of the giving things she did as a four year-old. Some of the content is about my journey to becoming her Papa, and that can be deeply personal. She's also getting to an age that blogging all of it is no longer appropriate, she deserves her privacy, so I decided several months ago to start an old-school journal to preserve my memories.  
After dinner, which was excellent, I continued to pour my hea…