So, I realize I haven’t really talked about the fact I’m a dad now. I am. I have two kids – an 11yo daughter and a 9yo son. They are tremendous.
My pathway to parenthood was foster-to-adopt. I’ve known forever I want to be a dad. Forever. Figuring out the how was a little trickier. For a while, I anticipated I’d be married and we’d either adopt or go through a surrogate. At some point, though, I either got tired of waiting or didn’t like the idea of my parenting being dependent on another person. (It’s possible I’ve been single too long.)
So, I attended an informational session organized by Raise the Future, outlining the numerous pathways to adopting. While I love babies, I didn’t need the newborn experience to feel like a full parent.
From the informational meeting, I found a local adoption agency, set up a meeting and got the process going. I’ll write more about the process throughout the year. Suffice it to say, I’m a dad now. It’s part of the reason last year saw two posts on the blog. Parenting is hard. Adopting is hard. My kids moved in Dec. 4, 2019. Over the Christmas holiday, our dog was diagnosed with cancer and put down just after the new year. In March, the pandemic started. Parenting and adopting during a pandemic that requires social isolation is very hard.
This has been the hardest year of my life. I have felt more alone than ever before. I have felt unsure of every option in front of me. I have felt deep sadness grieving the life I had before. I have wondered how I will get to the other side of this.
I love it. I choose it every day, and I love it.
Last week, my daughter ran up to me when I arrived to pick her up from school. She was distraught, sad, near tears. A friend who’d said she’d play with her had decided, instead, to play with another girl. My daughter hugged me as we walked and told me how sad she was. A year ago, heck, three months ago, that wouldn’t have happened.
Now, though, more often than not, they both look for me when their worlds get heavy or scary.
They are also starting to share their joys more.
My son has reported two new best friends at school this week. This morning, he told me they were his bosses, “Like you have a boss.” His understanding of bosses and friendships not withstanding, he’s connecting at his new school, making friends, feeling safe. He’s finding his people.
When I was younger, my mom was constantly telling others about my sister and me. It always struck me as odd. Her job was an important and busy one. Why would she bring up her kids to colleagues or take time to tell stories about us?
I get it now.
I have told no fewer than 1 billion people my daughter can solve 3-digit by 3-digit multiplication problems. When my son read a story by himself for the first time, the video made its way to his entire teaching team, my moms, my sister, my brother-in-law, and several friends. Frankly, now that I’m a parent, I can’t believe my mom ever shut up about us to get any work done.
I live and breathe with their every win and every loss. I want to shield them from every hurt they could possibly feel. And, I want them to live big, bold lives feeling all things deeply.
Most of the time, I know I’m doing it wrong. Every once in a while, I have a brief moment of thinking I’m doing it right.
That, I’ve been told, is parenting.
So beautiful and true about parenting, Zac. Miss you. Michelle