Was/Is there a song that symbolizes your journey to become a family?
Here’s mine. I was scared to pieces for the TTC procedures, which we were having done while living in a 2nd world country. I listened to this song over and over again while trying to build up my courage to subject my body to all sorts of risks and pain (brave I’m not).
While I wasn’t facing a literal death, it sure felt like I was.
This song is from Jesus Christ Superstar, where Jesus is first angry at God, and then accepting of God’s will. The orchestration is amazing, as is the soul-wrenching voice of Ian Gillan of Deep Purple.
I had long struggled with the idea of adoption as a second choice — pregnancy being the default setting and thus, first choice. After all, I had ended up in exactly the right place. I wouldn’t want my family to be any different than who we are. But how to explain this to my children, who are likely to ask questions in the coming years?
One day I came across Melissa at Stirrup Queens, who addresses the term “second” as a chronological term rather than an ordinal term.
Was Roger my first choice as a husband? Well, considering I kissed a few frogs before I even met him, Roger wasn’t chronologically my first choice. I wonder how my life would be now if I’d ended up with Alan, the boy who helped me collect worms one day when we were 8. Or Dave, the disk jockey turned radio-mogul, or Bill-the-farmer or Carl-the-slacker or Ike-the-commitment-phobe.
Roger was definitely my best choice. But I meandered to get to him. The meandering is what made me worthy of him and appreciative of him.
It’s oddly coincidental. Tessa developed her first crush this week during Vacation Bible School. She is smitten with a boy double her age, a 6th grader named Cory. She dressed for him, had me braid her hair for him, talked incessantly about him, and dreamed of him. She claims she’ll marry him.
Not very likely. Cory may be her first, but what matters is the last. That’s the keeper.
Just like Tessa, and just like Reed. My meandering to them is what makes me worthy of them. The process of our family forming was absolutely the best choice, even if we started out not knowing that.
On this Fathers’ Day weekend, I’m thinking about two gentlemen in particular.
Our children have access to their birth mothers. We feel it’s what is best for them. And besides, we like Crystal and Michele. A lot.
The reasons we welcome Crystal and Michele in our lives:
to alleviate the rumored Primal Wound of adoption
to have access to medical information
so that our children will never have to wonder
so that our children will never have to search
so that our children will never have to begin a relationship with someone who is both a stranger and yet intimately necessary to their lives.
All these reasons also stand for birth fathers, yet we have no contact with either.
Tessa’s birth father is, according to Crystal, a wild card. He can be incredibly sweet and sensitive, or extremely manipulative and angry. Through the agency, we have invited him to introduce himself to us through letters, which could progress to telephone calls and maybe even visits, as his personality and intentions become clear. We have yet to get a response.
Reed’s birth father is just absent. Michele let us know about two years ago that he wanted our email address, and we wait to hear from him. He has moved out of state and may not know how to begin a relationship with us.
Even though the idea of a birth father is much more abstract than a birth mother, our children have begun to ask about the two male names we include in our nightly prayers. I ask that we soon have either faces to go with the names, or the guidance to answer the questions.