I realize my blog has digressed from teaching into more personal matters, but this is just a side journey. I feel it is necessary to share the personal journeys because they so much affect who I am as a teacher.
I was devastated with Marcia’s critique of Michael’s nurturing ability. I could acknowledge Michael was very task-oriented, but to say he could not be nurturing toward a child was blasphemy in my mind. My mind traveled back to the early days of our marriage when kids would knock on our door and ask if “Mike could come out and play.” I felt like every marriage could use improvement, including ours, but I also felt we were at a good place in our marriage, dependent on God in our daily lives, and ready to move on to parenting.
Of course, I was six months pregnant, so I guess we could have just given up and accepted the fact that adoption was not going to work out for us, but there was no way I was going to give up my son that easily. So, Michael and I made our appointment to meet with the counselor that Marcia recommended. We arrived at his office after deciding to approach it as just another “adventure.” We were determined to be as honest about our relationship as possible.
After our initial meeting, which he spent gathering background information, he asked more pointed questions and then ended with a statement like this:
“I’m not really sure exactly why Marcia has any reservations regarding your abilities to parent a child. I will absolutely recommend the adoption proceed and I really don’t think another session is necessary.”
We were elated! Our boy would be with us soon. We just had to survive our last meeting with Marcia. A week later, she handed us a copy of the positive recommendation she would turn into the agency.
“I will be in touch when travel arrangements have been made for Scott. I know the meetings with the counselor set us back a bit, but I would say you should be getting a flight confirmation within the next three weeks. Then I will follow up with a home visit one week after he arrives.”
“Will you be at the airport when he arrives?” I asked.
“Absolutely.” She promised.
As we were celebrating that night with dinner at our favorite restaurant, we sat next to each other in a booth. This was so Michael could put his arm around me while we both gazed at the picture of our son, Scott.
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