That's right, the countdown is at t-16 hours and counting. No, I'm not talking about how long it will be until we lift off from mother earth and greet father sky. It's T-16 hours and counting until our home is filled with the pitter/patter of little feet, and it's been a long and rocky three years since we started this journey.
You see, I married the most beautiful and generous woman three years ago, and we started our life, happily envisioning our own contribution to the world. We so badly wanted children of our own. Sadly, my wife has a medical condition that prevents her from having children, and while I was momentarily disappointed, I bucked up and put my faith in God, as I always have.
We went to specialists, who ran tests, and coallated reports for a year, and finally told us that we couldn't have kids.
From there, we put in our paperwork to an adoption agency, who showed our profile to a young woman who was having a child that she didn't think she could take care of.... yeah right. She decided to keep the child and raise it on her own. My wife was crushed, and I comforted her the best I could. I railed and cursed, and envisioned crushing the people at the adoption agency between scylla and carybdis.
Our next step was to take Pride classes at Texas Department of Family Protective services, with the idea that if we couldn't have children of our own, we could at least be foster parents.
So, in less than 16 hours, our house will become home to two little girls and one little boy, who's mother can't take care of them. We invited the kids over to visit our house last week, and they hadn't been there more than five minutes before they called me Dad, and my wife Mommy.
Part of me wil be so happy to have children around the house, even if they aren't fully ours, unless their mother fails her assignments from the CPS folk.
Would I adopt them? In a heartbeat. Will I love them? As if they are my own children.
How will it work? I'll let you know. Feel free to come back and keep up with the saga.
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