It costs a staggering amount of money to adopt. It can be as little as a couple thousand dollars to adopt a child in the foster care system or up to sixty thousand dollars. Yep, $60,000. That's a lotta money.
So what are all the fees for? (I'm mostly talking about the fees for a domestic adoption that is not through the foster care system. Some of the fees overlap to other types of adoption, but not all.)
The first thing you need is a homestudy. As near as I can figure this is a social worker meeting with the potential adoptive family and touring their home to make sure that they have "a suitable environment to raise a child". Actually, it's several meetings and a bunch of paperwork. Fingerprints, criminal record checks, medical clearances and that sort of thing. This cost $1000-$1500 or so.
If you decide to use an adoption consultant their fees are generally $2000-$3000.
The adoption consultant is the person who looks out for the interests of the adoptive parents and helps to guide them through the process.
Then there are the fees to the adoption agency. This is a huge chunk of the cost to adopt. My understanding is about $13,000-$15,000. Gulp! Did you know that agencies work in the best interest of the birth parents? Now, don't get me wrong, I am glad that there is someone protecting their interests I just have a lot of trouble wrapping my head around the fact that I am paying that much money to someone who isn't even looking out for my best interest. I was really surprised to find out what these fees cover. Can you guess? Advertising. All that money for advertising. Whew.
Birth mother expenses. This varies a lot. It totally depends on the situation and what the birth mother needs. Anything from maternity clothes, to medical bills to rent so she has somewhere to live. These fees could be minor or thousands and thousands of dollars.
And then there are the expenses involved in actually going to pick up the child from whereever he or she is born. When you adopt a newborn in the US the adoptive parents go to the hospital where the baby is going to be born or is already born. After the birth mother signs away her parental rights and the child is discharged from the hospital the adoptive parents can take the child with them. But until the state the child was born in and the state the adoptive parents live in get on the same page, the adoptive parents cannot leave the state with their child. So this is usually about two weeks in a hotel, plus airfare and any other travel expenses.
The cost is overwhelming. There are no guarantees. We could spend thousands of dollars and still not have another child. I cannot think of a single way to raise the kind of cash needed to make this happen. Well, I could think of a couple of ways but other than winning the lottery none of them are legal.
So we are at a crossroad. Do we go for it? Do we wait until we can save more money? Do I get a job to help with the expenses? There don't seem to be any good answers. There sure as heck aren't any easy answers.
Showing posts with label Rant. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Rant. Show all posts
Thursday, May 27, 2010
Friday, April 30, 2010
The Big Scare
A couple of months ago I blogged about Doodlebug lagging behind in hitting his developmental milestones. Since then we have been making the rounds of the specialists to try and find out what is going on.
A month ago we saw the opthamologist. Apparently looking at the optic nerve can sometimes give indications of causes of developmental delays. When the doc examined Doodlebug I was told that his optic nerve looked good and his vision was fine too.
We also started working with Child Developmental Services (CDS) to have his speech, language, cognitive functioning, fine motor and gross motor development assessed. He was evaluated when he was 14 months old but was generally functioning at the level of a 9-12 month old child at that point. As a part of the assessment I received a written report. It contains their findings as well as notes on the findings of relevant medical professionals. One of the medical professionals that was referenced was our opthamologist.
So, I was in the kitchen reading my way through the assessment and making Doodlebug's breakfast. Perfectly ordinary Tuesday morning. And without warning it changed into one of the moments in my life I will never forget. When I got to the part from the opthamologist's and read "Dr. Blinkity-Bloop suspects anoxic brain damage."
The world pretty much fell out from under me. No one has ever suggested to us that Doodlebug's problems could be from brain damage. No one has even mentioned those words to us. In fact, most people are thinking he's just a late bloomer. Maybe need a little help to get caught back up.
After I managed to get myself back together and feed my boy, I called the opthamologist's office. I explained that I had received this report and wanted to verify the doctor did believe that he had brain damage and find out why no one had mentioned this to me. That was at 9:00 AM.
While I sat at home listening for the phone to ring I cried. Hugged my baby. Wondered what this meant for his life. Can he still go to college? Have a family? Will he struggle through school? Be teased? How will this affect our family? And then the mommy guilt set in. Is this my fault? When I was in labor and pushing his heart rate kept dropping into the 40's. Should I have done something different? I didn't want a c-section and the doctors thought I was refusing the surgery when I said that. Were my baby's brain cells dying while that was going on? Could I have prevented this?
The doctor's office didn't call back that day. I had a lot of time to think about it.
The next morning at 9:15 a nurse called me back. First she told me she didn't call me yesterday because the doctor had Doodlebug's file and just gave it back to her. Then she told me they didn't know what report I got the information from and that she couldn't give me any information anyway because the doctor's notes had not been transcribed.
As patiently as I could, I explained about the evaluation. I told her I had signed a release for the doctor to send the information to CDS because they wanted to verify his vision was okay. I had gotten the summary from CDS and it stated the opthamologist suspected anoxic brain damage and I wanted to know if that was correct.
Again she repeated that she couldn't tell me anything since the notes weren't transcribed yet but they would be done soon and sent to Doodlebug's neurologist. The notes were not done yet (a month after the appointment) because first the doctor was on vacation and then the transcriptionist. How nice for them, but you see, I really don't care. I am a little more concerned with the words brain damage right now.
When I asked how I could get a copy of these notes she seemed very surprised but said she could mail them to me. They should be in the mail by the end of next week.
And then she tried to get off the phone. Umm, no. We're not done yet.
I asked how CDS got that information if the notes were not done yet. She had no answer for me.
I thought, perhaps she doesn't understand why I am so upset about this. Maybe she thinks someone has already mentioned that he might have brain damage. So I explained that Doodlebug is developmentally delayed. We are trying to figure out why, but this is the first time we have heard the words brain damaged and we are freaking out. Could she please do anything to expedite these notes or get me any additional information under the circumstances?
She told me that "those words are in the report" (anoxic brain damage) and the the notes would be done by Monday and mailed to me. I don't know how that's expediting anything since Monday was her original day. I decided just to get off the phone with her (since I believe her name was The Unhelpful Nurse Who Blames Everyone Else).
I called my husband and asked him to call the doctor's office. If they get enough calls maybe they'll get our report done sooner just to make us stop calling.
He got a nice nurse on the phone who apologized to him (imagine that!) and told him that those words were part of a billing code, not a diagnosis.
Now I'm even more confused. Technically the first nurse didn't say that anoxic brain damage was an actual diagnosis or suspicion, but she sure didn't mention this. And if she knew that and didn't mention it I think I will change her name to Cold-hearted Mean Nurse. (Okay, okay, maybe the name I called her was a bit more colorful, but I was having a really bad day.)
This post is getting really long. Anybody need an intermission? Seriously, feel free. I'll still be here when you get back.... Ready? Okay, here we go.
I called our case manager's supervisor at CDS and explained the situation. (I wasn't going over our case manager's head, she is off getting married and not in the office right now.) She looked at the notes from the doctor's office and confirmed she had them and that matched what was on the report. She suggested I try to contact our pediatrician or our neurologist to get some more information. Maybe a doctor can get the process moving along.
Now I love our pediatrician. Love him! He is great with Doodlebug, tells me like it is and answers my mile long list of questions when we go in without making impatient noises or faces. I love him. So I called and left a message for his nurse to call me back.
Within two and a half hours he was on the phone with me. He told me that he had no idea how an opthamologist could make that diagnosis. Anoxic means that no oxygen got to the brain which resulted in cell death and brain damage. And since there is no known event where Doodlebug got no oxygen for a period of time no one could make this diagnosis on him in his opinion. Then he told me he called a neonatologist and reviewed Doodlebug's birth history with him. (See, I told you. This is why I love this man!) The neonatologist said that a heart rate dropping into the 40's a couple of times could not have caused this. If it had gone on for several hours or days, maybe. But not 2-3 pushes over 20 minutes. And Doodlebug came out breathing just fine with Apgar's of 8 and 9. He said that when the opthamologist's report comes in next week we will review it together and until then I should try not to worry about it, because there's really nothing he can see to worry about.
Whew! I feel so much better. Dr. E shoots straight with me and if I needed to worry he would tell me flat out.
And then the opthamologist office got it together and got the notes transcribed. They called my husband and read him the report. Here's the gist.
Optic nerve is fine.
Vision is within normal limits.
Follow up at age 3.
So where did the anoxic brain damage come in? A billing code. Yep, all that over a freaking billing code. Apparently that is how they will code it for insurance (as a visit to rule out anoxic brain damage).
I am so relieved I don't know what to do with myself. Doodlebug's still delayed, we have lots of work ahead of us We still don't know why he's behind, but at least no one is saying the scary phrase anoxic brain damage any more.
A month ago we saw the opthamologist. Apparently looking at the optic nerve can sometimes give indications of causes of developmental delays. When the doc examined Doodlebug I was told that his optic nerve looked good and his vision was fine too.
We also started working with Child Developmental Services (CDS) to have his speech, language, cognitive functioning, fine motor and gross motor development assessed. He was evaluated when he was 14 months old but was generally functioning at the level of a 9-12 month old child at that point. As a part of the assessment I received a written report. It contains their findings as well as notes on the findings of relevant medical professionals. One of the medical professionals that was referenced was our opthamologist.
So, I was in the kitchen reading my way through the assessment and making Doodlebug's breakfast. Perfectly ordinary Tuesday morning. And without warning it changed into one of the moments in my life I will never forget. When I got to the part from the opthamologist's and read "Dr. Blinkity-Bloop suspects anoxic brain damage."
The world pretty much fell out from under me. No one has ever suggested to us that Doodlebug's problems could be from brain damage. No one has even mentioned those words to us. In fact, most people are thinking he's just a late bloomer. Maybe need a little help to get caught back up.
After I managed to get myself back together and feed my boy, I called the opthamologist's office. I explained that I had received this report and wanted to verify the doctor did believe that he had brain damage and find out why no one had mentioned this to me. That was at 9:00 AM.
While I sat at home listening for the phone to ring I cried. Hugged my baby. Wondered what this meant for his life. Can he still go to college? Have a family? Will he struggle through school? Be teased? How will this affect our family? And then the mommy guilt set in. Is this my fault? When I was in labor and pushing his heart rate kept dropping into the 40's. Should I have done something different? I didn't want a c-section and the doctors thought I was refusing the surgery when I said that. Were my baby's brain cells dying while that was going on? Could I have prevented this?
The doctor's office didn't call back that day. I had a lot of time to think about it.
The next morning at 9:15 a nurse called me back. First she told me she didn't call me yesterday because the doctor had Doodlebug's file and just gave it back to her. Then she told me they didn't know what report I got the information from and that she couldn't give me any information anyway because the doctor's notes had not been transcribed.
As patiently as I could, I explained about the evaluation. I told her I had signed a release for the doctor to send the information to CDS because they wanted to verify his vision was okay. I had gotten the summary from CDS and it stated the opthamologist suspected anoxic brain damage and I wanted to know if that was correct.
Again she repeated that she couldn't tell me anything since the notes weren't transcribed yet but they would be done soon and sent to Doodlebug's neurologist. The notes were not done yet (a month after the appointment) because first the doctor was on vacation and then the transcriptionist. How nice for them, but you see, I really don't care. I am a little more concerned with the words brain damage right now.
When I asked how I could get a copy of these notes she seemed very surprised but said she could mail them to me. They should be in the mail by the end of next week.
And then she tried to get off the phone. Umm, no. We're not done yet.
I asked how CDS got that information if the notes were not done yet. She had no answer for me.
I thought, perhaps she doesn't understand why I am so upset about this. Maybe she thinks someone has already mentioned that he might have brain damage. So I explained that Doodlebug is developmentally delayed. We are trying to figure out why, but this is the first time we have heard the words brain damaged and we are freaking out. Could she please do anything to expedite these notes or get me any additional information under the circumstances?
She told me that "those words are in the report" (anoxic brain damage) and the the notes would be done by Monday and mailed to me. I don't know how that's expediting anything since Monday was her original day. I decided just to get off the phone with her (since I believe her name was The Unhelpful Nurse Who Blames Everyone Else).
I called my husband and asked him to call the doctor's office. If they get enough calls maybe they'll get our report done sooner just to make us stop calling.
He got a nice nurse on the phone who apologized to him (imagine that!) and told him that those words were part of a billing code, not a diagnosis.
Now I'm even more confused. Technically the first nurse didn't say that anoxic brain damage was an actual diagnosis or suspicion, but she sure didn't mention this. And if she knew that and didn't mention it I think I will change her name to Cold-hearted Mean Nurse. (Okay, okay, maybe the name I called her was a bit more colorful, but I was having a really bad day.)
This post is getting really long. Anybody need an intermission? Seriously, feel free. I'll still be here when you get back.... Ready? Okay, here we go.
I called our case manager's supervisor at CDS and explained the situation. (I wasn't going over our case manager's head, she is off getting married and not in the office right now.) She looked at the notes from the doctor's office and confirmed she had them and that matched what was on the report. She suggested I try to contact our pediatrician or our neurologist to get some more information. Maybe a doctor can get the process moving along.
Now I love our pediatrician. Love him! He is great with Doodlebug, tells me like it is and answers my mile long list of questions when we go in without making impatient noises or faces. I love him. So I called and left a message for his nurse to call me back.
Within two and a half hours he was on the phone with me. He told me that he had no idea how an opthamologist could make that diagnosis. Anoxic means that no oxygen got to the brain which resulted in cell death and brain damage. And since there is no known event where Doodlebug got no oxygen for a period of time no one could make this diagnosis on him in his opinion. Then he told me he called a neonatologist and reviewed Doodlebug's birth history with him. (See, I told you. This is why I love this man!) The neonatologist said that a heart rate dropping into the 40's a couple of times could not have caused this. If it had gone on for several hours or days, maybe. But not 2-3 pushes over 20 minutes. And Doodlebug came out breathing just fine with Apgar's of 8 and 9. He said that when the opthamologist's report comes in next week we will review it together and until then I should try not to worry about it, because there's really nothing he can see to worry about.
Whew! I feel so much better. Dr. E shoots straight with me and if I needed to worry he would tell me flat out.
And then the opthamologist office got it together and got the notes transcribed. They called my husband and read him the report. Here's the gist.
Optic nerve is fine.
Vision is within normal limits.
Follow up at age 3.
So where did the anoxic brain damage come in? A billing code. Yep, all that over a freaking billing code. Apparently that is how they will code it for insurance (as a visit to rule out anoxic brain damage).
I am so relieved I don't know what to do with myself. Doodlebug's still delayed, we have lots of work ahead of us We still don't know why he's behind, but at least no one is saying the scary phrase anoxic brain damage any more.
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
You Know You are Tired When...
In honor of my son choosing to get up at 5:00 AM (two hours early!!!) when he knows Mommy has mono and is exhausted at best anyway....
1. You have to tell the nurses in the hospital that you are not sure if you actually went to the bathroom or just dreamed it.
2. You cannot remember the word shower so instead you refer to it as "the box you stand in and the water comes down on your head and you get clean."
3. While pumping you realize that your left knee is starting to feel wet and discover you did not attach any bottles to the breast pump.
4. When your in-laws are lamenting a news story in which a mother has killed her 2 month old baby you actually understand how she could snap like that, and then forget to keep that thought to yourself.
5. You yell at the trash can when the lid refuses to latch and it is full of stinky diapers. And then you try to put it in time out.
6. Someone asks you your name and you really have to stop and think about it for a moment. Or maybe two.
7. Someone asks you your phone number and the only answer you can come up with is "I have no idea."
8. When you have a crying fit at 2:00 AM because you are up and down nursing a cranky baby and your c-section incision hurts and no man that had an appendectomy would be doing all this and you just had a big old BABY!
9. You can't think of a coherent way to end this post so you add one more bullet point and then hit publish post so you can go eat dinner.
Not that I have done any of these mind you. Oh no, not me.
1. You have to tell the nurses in the hospital that you are not sure if you actually went to the bathroom or just dreamed it.
2. You cannot remember the word shower so instead you refer to it as "the box you stand in and the water comes down on your head and you get clean."
3. While pumping you realize that your left knee is starting to feel wet and discover you did not attach any bottles to the breast pump.
4. When your in-laws are lamenting a news story in which a mother has killed her 2 month old baby you actually understand how she could snap like that, and then forget to keep that thought to yourself.
5. You yell at the trash can when the lid refuses to latch and it is full of stinky diapers. And then you try to put it in time out.
6. Someone asks you your name and you really have to stop and think about it for a moment. Or maybe two.
7. Someone asks you your phone number and the only answer you can come up with is "I have no idea."
8. When you have a crying fit at 2:00 AM because you are up and down nursing a cranky baby and your c-section incision hurts and no man that had an appendectomy would be doing all this and you just had a big old BABY!
9. You can't think of a coherent way to end this post so you add one more bullet point and then hit publish post so you can go eat dinner.
Not that I have done any of these mind you. Oh no, not me.
Thursday, February 25, 2010
It's Been a Rough Kind of a Week
Last month at Doodlebug's 12 month visit to the pediatrician did not go as well as we hoped. He is healthy, but he's not hitting his developmental milestones on time. This wasn't a total shocker. He's always been the kind of kid who hits milestones as late as possible and can still be considered in the normal range. But at 9 months he was still okay. At 12 months he was not crawling, not pulling up and not able to cruise furniture. He also cannot finger feed or chew food and just figured out how to use a sippy cup.
It is heartbreaking to have other moms say brightly "Is he walking yet?" and tell me that their child, who is 4 months younger, has been pulling up for months now. It is devastating to hear your pediatrician say that this puts your child in the bottom 10% developmentally. It literally hurt my heart to be told by a neurologist this week that he is developmentally delayed and that we need to undergo genetic and metabolic testing to make sure there's nothing more serious going on.
The bright spot is that her gut says he is just a late bloomer.
But, since her gut is not always right Doodlebug has appoinments with an optomologist, geneticist, child development center (for speech, fine motor and gross motor assessments) and more blood tests than I can count. I'm slogging through the insurance underworld to try and get approval for everything she wants to order. And this is just the tip of the iceburg. She also wants an MRI and other genetic testing, assuming we find nothing from all this.
My heart is breaking for my little boy who is behind and he's only a year old. Playing catch up already. He's going to be poked, prodded and stuck with needles. Naptimes will be interupted in favor of doctor's visits. Instead of playing with my sweet boy he is watching Elmo so I can make the 5th phone call of the day to fight with insurance or give a medical history over the phone, again.
In the middle of all of this I noticed his arms and legs turning dusky and finger and toenails turning blue. That earned us another trip to the pediatrician and a bonus round to the cardiologist next week.
Sweetheart, please give your Mommy a break.
This is not what I wanted for him. For us. For our family. And yet here we are. My head screams "I don't want to!" and "I'm not ready!" and "I can't handle this!" But I know I have to. Because I'm the mommy and I will do anything, even deal with the insurance company, for my sweet boy.
It is heartbreaking to have other moms say brightly "Is he walking yet?" and tell me that their child, who is 4 months younger, has been pulling up for months now. It is devastating to hear your pediatrician say that this puts your child in the bottom 10% developmentally. It literally hurt my heart to be told by a neurologist this week that he is developmentally delayed and that we need to undergo genetic and metabolic testing to make sure there's nothing more serious going on.
The bright spot is that her gut says he is just a late bloomer.
But, since her gut is not always right Doodlebug has appoinments with an optomologist, geneticist, child development center (for speech, fine motor and gross motor assessments) and more blood tests than I can count. I'm slogging through the insurance underworld to try and get approval for everything she wants to order. And this is just the tip of the iceburg. She also wants an MRI and other genetic testing, assuming we find nothing from all this.
My heart is breaking for my little boy who is behind and he's only a year old. Playing catch up already. He's going to be poked, prodded and stuck with needles. Naptimes will be interupted in favor of doctor's visits. Instead of playing with my sweet boy he is watching Elmo so I can make the 5th phone call of the day to fight with insurance or give a medical history over the phone, again.
In the middle of all of this I noticed his arms and legs turning dusky and finger and toenails turning blue. That earned us another trip to the pediatrician and a bonus round to the cardiologist next week.
Sweetheart, please give your Mommy a break.
This is not what I wanted for him. For us. For our family. And yet here we are. My head screams "I don't want to!" and "I'm not ready!" and "I can't handle this!" But I know I have to. Because I'm the mommy and I will do anything, even deal with the insurance company, for my sweet boy.
Saturday, February 13, 2010
Valentine's Day
Valentine’s day has never been my favorite holiday. Remember back in elementary school when we gave out valentines to our entire class? And the rule was that you had to give a valentine to everyone? Because if the teacher didn’t make that rule then there would be that one kid who wouldn’t get any. Your grade school popularity meter measured out in candy hearts on your desk for the world to see.
When I moved onto celebrations of Valentine’s day as an adult I discovered it’s still a competition that many women use to measure who is loved the most by their boyfriend/husband/fiancé. And instead of being measured in candy hearts it is now measured in red roses, expensive jewelry and fabulously romantic dates.
And the poor men who are trying desperately to figure out what that perfect gift will be. Should they send flowers? Flowers die. And what if one of her co-workers gets a bigger arrangement? Chocolates? Maybe, but maybe she’ll just talk about how they will make her fat. Jewelry? Lingerie? Teddy bears? A romantic date?
The single girls don’t have it any easier. They watch all the flowers being delivered, knowing there are none for them. They hear about all the romantic plans, and have none of their own. They become that one kid who doesn’t get any valentines in grade school.
So, I choose not to celebrate. I don’t want to be part of the competition. I don’t want my husband to spend his money on chocolate I don’t need and that will be half-price by Monday. I don’t want to go out to dinner with a million other people on one of the most crowded days of the year. I don’t want him to think that I love him any less because he didn’t give me the perfect gift or a wonderful night on the town. I know he loves me. Of all the women in the world, he chose me to be the one he spends his life with.
When I moved onto celebrations of Valentine’s day as an adult I discovered it’s still a competition that many women use to measure who is loved the most by their boyfriend/husband/fiancé. And instead of being measured in candy hearts it is now measured in red roses, expensive jewelry and fabulously romantic dates.
And the poor men who are trying desperately to figure out what that perfect gift will be. Should they send flowers? Flowers die. And what if one of her co-workers gets a bigger arrangement? Chocolates? Maybe, but maybe she’ll just talk about how they will make her fat. Jewelry? Lingerie? Teddy bears? A romantic date?
The single girls don’t have it any easier. They watch all the flowers being delivered, knowing there are none for them. They hear about all the romantic plans, and have none of their own. They become that one kid who doesn’t get any valentines in grade school.
So, I choose not to celebrate. I don’t want to be part of the competition. I don’t want my husband to spend his money on chocolate I don’t need and that will be half-price by Monday. I don’t want to go out to dinner with a million other people on one of the most crowded days of the year. I don’t want him to think that I love him any less because he didn’t give me the perfect gift or a wonderful night on the town. I know he loves me. Of all the women in the world, he chose me to be the one he spends his life with.
Monday, December 21, 2009
Returning an Adopted Child?
Have you heard about the couple on Good Morning America who want to give their adopted son back to the state? Their story is a horrible one. The child has been violent and even tried to kill them by burning their home down and has been locked in a psychiatric ward for the past year. They are attempting to change Oklahoma law to allow them to return the child to the care of the state.
But it both makes me mad and breaks my heart what they are trying to do.
I cannot imagine the terror and anguish that this couple is feeling. To know the child you love and are caring for wants to kill you, and would try. And he's coming home next month. I know they are desperate. I know they are terrified of having this child in their home. I would be too.
But he is their child. If he was their biological child they would not be pursuing this as an option. Adoption often gets a bad rap. The children who are adopted are often treated as though they are a second choice. Comments are made to their parents about how they are not their "real kids". Just this week I heard of an adoptive mother who became pregnant. Her co-worker asked her if they would be giving back their adopted 18 month old child now. Really? Do people think like this? Do people think adopted kids are expendable?
There is a lot of adoption within our family. Our second child will be adopted, not biological. I have always thought that I would adopt my children, instead of give birth to them. This is a topic I am passionate about.
I am angered that this family would go on national TV and announce they want to give their child back. I am angered for this child as well as for every other adopted child in this country. I am angered at the perception they are perpetuating that adopted kids are expendable. That they have a return policy. That they are less a part of the family than a biological kid.
Can you imagine being an adopted child and watching this news report? Thinking your place in the family might not be secure because you were adopted into it and not born into it? What would that do to a child?
I hope that out of the show today this family gets a solution. I hope it's a solution that protects everyone involved and leaves the family intact. I hope for everyone's sake it comes soon. And when it does, I hope they run that story about adoption on Good Morning America too.
But it both makes me mad and breaks my heart what they are trying to do.
I cannot imagine the terror and anguish that this couple is feeling. To know the child you love and are caring for wants to kill you, and would try. And he's coming home next month. I know they are desperate. I know they are terrified of having this child in their home. I would be too.
But he is their child. If he was their biological child they would not be pursuing this as an option. Adoption often gets a bad rap. The children who are adopted are often treated as though they are a second choice. Comments are made to their parents about how they are not their "real kids". Just this week I heard of an adoptive mother who became pregnant. Her co-worker asked her if they would be giving back their adopted 18 month old child now. Really? Do people think like this? Do people think adopted kids are expendable?
There is a lot of adoption within our family. Our second child will be adopted, not biological. I have always thought that I would adopt my children, instead of give birth to them. This is a topic I am passionate about.
I am angered that this family would go on national TV and announce they want to give their child back. I am angered for this child as well as for every other adopted child in this country. I am angered at the perception they are perpetuating that adopted kids are expendable. That they have a return policy. That they are less a part of the family than a biological kid.
Can you imagine being an adopted child and watching this news report? Thinking your place in the family might not be secure because you were adopted into it and not born into it? What would that do to a child?
I hope that out of the show today this family gets a solution. I hope it's a solution that protects everyone involved and leaves the family intact. I hope for everyone's sake it comes soon. And when it does, I hope they run that story about adoption on Good Morning America too.
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