For the first time this week I felt like I truly had some time to breathe when I woke up this morning. Admittedly, with a slight headache from the wine last night (hello almost-thirty), but with nothing to do or solve today I felt calmer than I have all week. In the quiet guest room at my friends’ house, I could finally take a breath.
I’ve been holding a lot in my head recently, but here’s one of them:
For years I’ve known I wanted to adopt someday. And that I would pursue it when the time felt right to me, no matter my partnership status. I haven’t been shy about sharing this. In the last couple years, I’ve done the research, talked to adoptive parents, and started to set my life up for it: I knew I didn’t want to seriously start looking at parenthood until I was back in Wisconsin, closer to my family and many of my closest friends.
After a year of being in Egg Harbor, I started the first step this summer, talking to adoption agencies, learning more and more, and eventually beginning my home study with a caseworker, a process of verifying you and your home are safe for a child that takes a few months. It’s intense in some ways — logistically, emotionally. There are many ways to have a child, and adoption is arguably the most difficult.
My home study will be complete next month and I’ve picked the national organization I want to work with that helps connect potential adoptive families to birthmothers (I’m currently pursuing adopting an infant from birth domestically). It’s an inclusive organization that is known for working with LGBTQ+ couples and single parents, and after having conversations with them earlier last week I knew they were still my first choice.
Adoption takes on average two years. Sometimes longer. Sometimes much shorter. Every circumstance is unique and there is an abundance of uncertainty. The unknown is not typically my cup of tea. But — that’s life, and parenting too, I expect.
In the last week or so this has started to feel very real.
It’s not a bad thing. But it’s a big thing. And I felt like I couldn’t find a moment to be quiet with myself and, as Glennon Doyle might put it, tap into my knowing. That’s what’s gotten me this far, the knowing that this feels like the right path at this moment, despite the many obstacles of adopting as a single parent. That’s what I need to see me through this process however it ends, my knowing that it is meant for me.
When I get quiet. here’s the thought I have: my kid is going to be there, waiting for me. In a few months or in a few years. On the path I expect or on one I never saw coming. But it’s my kid. I’m going to be ready for them.
This is the SparkNotes of the story, but it’s a big part of my headspace and it felt odd to not be writing about it more explicitly here. Updates to follow.
With Love,
Natalie
❤️