I was 16. I went to on a 13 day school trip to Europe. My parents agreed to pay a portion, just as they had for my brother when he was in high school. I worked a part time job to save up the rest. All my pennies went straight to financing my first amazing life adventure.
We met at the school to be bused to the airport just over an hour away. Everyone’s parents dropped them off at the designated time. My best friend dropped me off, as my parents were unable to because they had left a few days earlier for their own vacation. Everyone was excited. Hugs all around.
The trip was amazing. We went up the Eifel Tower in France; we all bought wooden shoes in Holland and swatches in Switzerland; in Germany, we toured the real life Disneyland castle, Neuschwanstein Castle; we went to a perfumery in France where all the girls bought something for themselves and the boys bought for the high school sweethearts; we spent hours on a bus; in Belgium, I bought a Belgian Horse memento for my grandparents who raise Belgian horses; as Canadian kids we got an important real life history less at the Vimy Ridge memorial site; we were all deeply touched by our experience at Natzwiller Stuthof Concentration Camp; we went to one of the smallest countries in Europe – Liechtenstein; we ate weird foods, but mostly we lived off McDonalds so that we could eat quickly and go shopping in our free time. We were now cultured world travellers and thought we knew it all. It was pure bliss.
Our return flight to Canada arrived on time. A bus met us at the airport to transport us back to the high school. We were all exhausted. Imagine, a group of 30 high school students, tired after a trip to Europe, who would have suspected? But, it was good exhausted. We had just been on the adventure of a lifetime! We had stories to tell everyone who didn’t come along – our friends, our siblings, and our parents. For most of us, it was our first adventure into the real world, and for some it was even there first time on a plane. So in our naive, sheltered teenage minds, we had just experienced the world!! We were enthralled.
So, when we got off that bus, to meet our parents and family. We all had so much to tell everyone about our adventure. So much so that we all had a sudden burst of energy as the bus pulled in to the school parking lot. We were once again excited and energized. One by one, everyone got off the bus and went to their parents for the obligatory hug and started rambling off stories of the great adventure.
I got off the bus. I looked around for my Dad or my Step-Mom. They were no-where to be found. I had no one waiting for me. I was that kid.
In rather short order, all the other kids left with their parents. Scurrying off to tell their stories and probably sleep off some of the jet leg. I was left standing at the entrance to the school with the last remaining teacher who got stuck waiting with me. I can only imagine how much he wanted to go home and see his family. Instead he drew the short straw, and stood outside waiting with me.
I knew something was up. So, I ran inside and used the school phone. I called my best friend, the conversation was short and went something like this – “Can you come pick me up?” She replied, “Sure, but aren’t you are parents going to pick you up?” All I could say was “apparently not”. I hung up the phone. I told the teacher my parents are on their way. Just a few minutes until they will be here. I lied. I couldn’t bring myself to admit, that my parents forgot me. Apparently, all it took was 13 days, and they forgot about me. The teacher left once he thought I had confirmed that my parents were on their way.
I sat on the front steps to the school until my friend arrived to pick me up. I put my suitcase in her car. We went to her house. I called my parents. Apparently they were tired from a busy day with my much younger step-sister and step-brother, and simply forgot about me. We argued. I was told to drive home as my car was at my friend’s house since they had been unable to drop me off 13 days earlier. We argued some more. I did not drive the 20 minutes home.
I ate supper with my friend’s family. I had lost the keys to my suitcase somewhere between Europe and Canada. So her dad cut the lock, just like a good father would. I washed my clothes, so I’d have something clean to wear the next day. I gave her the small present I bought her in Europe. I spent the night at my friend’s house. I went to school the next day. I went home that evening after school and gave souvenirs to everyone in my family.
They forgot to get me anything from there vacation. I pretended I didn’t notice.
I pretended life was perfect. We all pretended life was prefect.
A few weeks ago, in a past post, I mentioned that we were going to meet with a local couple who have adopted 2 children. Well, we finally met with them. Our connection to them is slightly removed – a friend of my husband’s sister and brother-in-law, whom we have never met before.
I’m never a person to be shy of making a cold call or striking up a conversation with someone I have never met before. I do it for work all the time, and I do it in social settings as well. But, I guess in this circumstance I was nervous. I felt like I was invading into a stranger’s life in a very personal manner. This isn’t just a “are you enjoying the beautiful weather we have” kinda conversation. This is such a personal topic, and such an intrusion. The irony of this, is that I had been annoyed with my husband for not speaking with his friend sooner to get there contact information, and then when I volunteered to contact her, it took me a few weeks to work up the nerve. I guess, I now understand my husband’s hesitation earlier on – funny how that one came full circle and I realize that he just needed the time to have the conversation with his friend.
First, I need to state that we truly valued the time that this couple took to meet with us. I called her, and less then 24 hours later we were meting with them. They invited us into their home; shared their story; experiences and initial fears with us; introduced us to one of their children (the other one was already in bed for the night); lent us a few must read books on adoption; shared the letter they wrote to prospective birth parents with us; and, answered any questions we had. It was a phenomenal experience for us, and we are so grateful for the honesty and support we felt when we were with them.
Anyways, here is the very basics (and only the basics, as it’s not my place to share) of what we learned about there journey:
- Both of their children are adopted through domestic open adoptions.
- They both still volunteer with the adoption agency, and strongly recommend them.
- They went through infertility struggles including multiple failed IVF treatments before they chose to adopt.
- Both children are healthy.
- Their children are inter-racial.
And here are my 12 key take-a-ways:
- Not all adoptions are horrible. The horrible stories seem to get all the press, but there are countless stories of healthy/happy adoptions, you might just need to put in a bit more effort to search them out. And, if I ever need a reminder of a happy story, they are the family to think about (as are some of the stories I’ve heard about in the blogging world, but real life people that I’ve met are a bit easier to conceptualize).
- If you adopt children of a different race, be prepared for random comments from complete strangers – grocery stores are the worst. Some are rude, some are inappropriate, but most come from an innocent curiosity and most people mean well.
- Mothers of adopted children are faced with more questions than fathers.
- The adoption agency and birth parents will know more personal details about your life then your own parents. Be prepared to share everything, even the most personal details.
- Most people who adopt have gone through some sort of infertility journey. Most people don’t expect to be in the position where they are considering adoption and have a lot of fears. And this is okay.
- The comment that stuck with me the most is “once we decided to adopt, it’s the first time we had hope that we would have a family.”
- We have a recommended adoption agency to speak with if we choose to. This was really important to me, because if we choose adoption, I want to use an agency that has been a positive experience for others and somehow a personal reference means a lot more than an online testimony. It’s not quite like car shopping where you go to multiple dealerships and pick your favourite – it’s kinda a much bigger decision then that.
- In our province there is a 10 day change of heart period for the birth parents to change their minds. It is rare to occur (maybe 1 or 2 a year), but it does happen. This scares us – I couldn’t even begin to imagine this circumstance where you are forced to return “your” new baby.
- All open adoptions in our province are of new-born babies that adopted parents take home form the hospital.
- Many employers have a tough time with adoption, because there may be no notice. Typically with pregnancy, they have about 6 months’ notice that the women is expecting. With adoption, sometimes you get a call that a baby is waiting for you, other times, you get a few weeks’ notice.
- The average wait time in m province currently sits at 3 years! And that’s the average, so it could happen in as little as a few months, or take as long as 6 years.
- Often the adoptive parents will want more contact with the birth parents, then the birth parents want. Which is much different than most people expect.
So, will we adopt? We are no closer to a decision. I think my husband is on information over-load after last night as he hasn’t done much research into adoption. Me, a bit less so, simply because I’ve done a lot of reading and research. But, I can assure you, both of our minds are still trying to digest everything we learned. And, right now, for the first time, I actually feel like adoption could be a decent option for us. But we change our minds on this subject all the time, so really, who knows?
Feel free to check out my other posts on our adoption indecision:
My Perfect Breakdown 