The Adventure Begins

Becoming a parent is rather like skydiving: once you take the plunge, there’s no turning back. Not that I would know about the skydiving because there’s no way in hell I’d ever do that!  But, I can appreciate the similarity, the embarking on an adventure that is simultaneously terrifying and thrilling. And once you do that, nothing is ever the same – in a remarkable, amazing way.

Now, if you’d told me several years ago that I’d have a toddler today, I’d have thought you were totally insane. I had big dreams for myself – I was studying to become a lawyer. I had just met my partner and envisioned that our life after law school would be filled with satisfying work, amazing vacations, and the freedom to do whatever we wanted to do. I didn’t know then that a grander plan was in store for me.

The phone awoke me sometime after 2:00 a.m. My sister-in-law had called to say she had gone into labor. I recall nervously saying, “Hold on a minute” as I handed the phone to her sister, my partner Heidi. Then I kicked myself – hold on a minute? Really? The woman is in labor, just wake Heidi and be done with it. Even the idea of childbirth must have freaked me out, I sounded so dumb in the moment.  Heidi staggered out of bed and went to the hospital to help welcome her new niece into the world. Anna Gloria was born that Saturday September morning at 4:42 a.m., Heidi returned to tell me. We went back to sleep and planned to visit later in the day.

I remember the trip to the hospital for its ordinariness. We had been out with Heidi’s teenage daughter, Kelsey, and were planning to make a brief stop on the way home to check on mom and baby. I approached the visit with a mix of happiness and trepidation – babies had always scared me. They were so fragile and helpless and breakable. I had never held one, except my nephew, and he was a few weeks old by then. Anna was brand new. Not even 24 hours had passed since her birth.

Hello, world!

Everyone else held her before me. I was immediately taken with her – she was miraculously healthy, and she had a full head of straight black hair and the cutest smushed little face – but holding her was intimidating. It was nice but I was somewhat relieved when the visit was over.  I don’t remember much else about that weekend, until Sunday night, when we made our second visit. I was less nervous this time. We talked about how Anna would be placed in foster care the next day, but would see her mother daily at the halfway house for recovering addicts where she was staying. And then, she did it.  Or maybe God did it, or fate if you prefer. Something in my universe palpably shifted.

She fell asleep in my arms, head on my chest.  I melted. I didn’t want to let her go.

Love at first snuggle

All that night, and the next day, while state agents came to pick her up and transport her to some unknown place, I thought about her. I thought about her on my one hour drive to the office. I thought about her while I wrote motions at work. I thought about her as I showed the photos on my cell phone to my co-workers with a strangely potent sense of pride and joy for an aunt. I thought about her as I wandered around a department store on my lunch break, in tears, trying to select presents for her, something for her to remember her aunts by so she would at least know we loved her. I selected a soft pink blanket and a cuddly lamb.

It wasn’t enough.  I wouldn’t see her snuggle with the lamb. She wasn’t with us. And a constant refrain sounded in the back of my mind:

WRONG.  WRONG.  WRONG.

I heard the word in my head. I felt it in my bones. I had never been so overwhelmed by emotion, so clearly pushed onto a path by the Universe. This was all so unlike me. But someone up there knew I would need a huge, obvious shove….and somewhere deep inside, I knew: she belonged with us.

I was still crying when I came back to work, still thinking about this beautiful little girl that, in all likelihood, would be raised by strangers. The second I was back at my desk, I emailed Heidi: “I can’t stop thinking about that little girl. I wish she could be with us.” I was amazed to learn that Heidi felt the same way. That Monday afternoon message set in motion a series of events that, though I didn’t know it then, would alter the course of our lives forever.

Obviously, it wasn’t totally a fairy tale. There were big questions to discuss that night: could we afford it?  How would we make it work with demanding jobs? After all, I was the one who had strongly vetoed the idea when it was suggested over the summer because of our busy working lifestyle. Would Kelsey be okay with us caring for Anna, given that it might impact time with her mom?  How would Heidi feel about caring for an infant with her own daughter so close to adulthood?  How long would Anna stay with us? The state predicted it would be a 3 to 6 month commitment.  And, knowing what we did about the demon that is drug addiction, we had to ask ourselves the biggest question of all: what if rehab didn’t work? What if 3 to 6 months turned into forever? 

We both had faith that my sister-in-law had turned a corner in her lengthy battle with substance abuse, but we did have to consider that we were talking about a living, breathing human being. If there was a relapse, we couldn’t just give her back to the State like you return a sweater to a store when you decide it doesn’t work for you. This child would bond with us, and we with her. There would be no backing out if things didn’t turn out as well as we were hoping. It could be 3 months, it could be a year, who knew? The uncertainty of it all was thick in the air, but our conviction that this was meant to happen won out. (I’m making it seem like this was a lengthy debate, but the process I’m describing took maybe 10 minutes or so, and 3 phone calls: to my sister-in-law, Kelsey, and the case worker.)

We jumped out of that plane. We took our plunge, no turning back.  We followed our hearts. On Tuesday after work, Anna came home to us. We stared at her like a couple of fools all evening, simply in awe.

Fast-forward to today, and we have traded in our apartment for a house, our sporty car for a practical mommy wagon, my fast-paced litigation job for a part-time desk job – we’ve traded our big dreams for an even bigger one.  And at the center of our new world is a bright, beautiful, sweet, loving almost three-year-old who gives the best hugs in the world and thinks her imaginary alligator is going to nibble her feet and steal her donut.

She is our Annapie now, and she is amazing.

Joyful girl!

We’re in it for the long haul. It’s been a remarkable ride, and I’m sure the best, and worst, are yet to come. So I’ve created this blog to share our unconventional family’s experiences, to put our story out there as it writes itself day after day. Ideally, I’d like to create a community where we exchange ideas and feedback about this most grand of adventures: parenthood.  I’m not quite sure where this blogging journey will take me, but I hope those of you who come along for the ride will enjoy it.