Robert Frost once said, “Two roads diverged in a yellow wood. And sorry I could not travel both.” I truly feel in a lot of aspects that this is my life. Eli and I are at a crossroads. Now, don’t get me wrong. We’ve been at a crossroads before, but not ever quite like this.

As many of you know, we’ve been in a conundrum since about December as to the next steps we take in our adoption journey. We’ve nursed our wounds, developed some calluses, and know that we are better for it. Now we are at our fork in the road. Public home study or private?

Research? We’ve done it. Discussed with others? We’ve done it. Now it’s go time, as we face an expiration of our home study and a plan to start fresh, no longer with our agency.

Through the good, the bad, and the ugly, we’ve realized that we are open to many things. And we most definitely see benefits to adopting privately, as well as becoming foster parents with a public license. We are not naïve. Trust me, we know it’s not about us. That’s why we’ve remained still for quite some time. We knew we needed necessary information and time to get over our own stuff, so that we could truly be the best people we could be for our future family.

We can feel ourselves right at this precipice—this fork in the woods. As of right now, in the private sector we are looking at an agency out of state that has a very large need for hopeful adoptive parents who are open to other races and ethnicities, as well as different substance use during pregnancy. Eli and I both feel very prepared for this, or at least as prepared as you can be in a situation like this. However, we are little gun-shy to an agency adoption right now due to some past experiences.

On the other hand, we have really been researching fostering to adopt. We’ve contacted some private agencies that do public foster parenting and adoption, as well as our local county. They have been incredibly helpful. But we know, and fully support, that the end goal is reunification with the child’s birth family. And we support this 100%. But we also know that this makes for a very different family dynamic for our future family.

So where does the difficulty arise? In a private adoption, we could face signing on with an agency and being there again for entire year, with little to no movement. In addition to this, many private agencies charge a sometimes substantial sign on fee. It’s hard for us to get past this idea, that as little as we like it, private adoption can be a very profitable, and sometimes not always ethical business. Now, don’t get us wrong. There are many wonderful private adoption agencies out there. Agencies that fully support providing assistance and counseling to birth parents so that they are as confident as they can be in making the decision they choose.

On the other hand, we also know that fostering to adopt offers it’s own unique set of challenges. There is a lot of trauma involved in a child being removed from his or her home. We understand that to the public many people cannot understand why the state would “leave” the child in a situation they don’t see as being beneficial, but what many people don’t understand is how truly traumatic it is for a child to be removed from his or her birth family. This loss is not lost on us. It is traumatic for the child as well as the chid’s birth family or “first parents”.

At the end of the day,

“I shall be telling this with a sigh

   Somewhere ages and ages hence:

   Two roads diverged in a wood, and I…”

…will take the one that I know is not just best for me, but for all that are on this simplex road to adoption.

~Chelsea

 

 

 

 

I grew up in a household where I was taught that in order to make a change you must take action. Activism is nothing new to me. I went to my first large demonstration in Washington D.C. when I was 19 and marched with 500,000 other people of all different backgrounds. We marched for peace. I was so proud. I was going to change the world. And then I got older.

 

In my early 20s I got my first teaching job. I got married. I got involved at school. I got busy. I’d try to be socially active, but it was hard. I’d make phone calls on issues I felt strongly about, but they were much less frequent. I’d attend a demonstration as long as my schedule was clear enough to do so. But I was busy.

Heading down our road towards adoption has ignited a new urgency to be socially active. As a hopeful adoptive parent (HAP), I know that it is going to be essential to advocate for my child. That’s what you do as parents, right? You advocate for your child. For what they need. For when they hurt. For injustices committed against them. For their betterment.

As I’ve researched more and experienced more in the adoption world, I’ve seen how important is to be informed and active. I’ve researched and will stand with the mothers through adoption for their right to receive equal maternity leave because I know how important, how vitally important that bonding process is for any mother or father and child, but especially for a family made by adoption. I believe strongly in, will voice my concern, and will fight for families through adoption to be given the same benefits that are afforded to biological families. I will stand up for social injustice, against racism, and fear because not only is it the right thing to do but also because my family may look very different than if we had had biological children.My eyes have always been open, but as I grew older they started to cloud over a bit. I wasn’t so convinced that I could actually change the world. My eyes are wide-open again. I will stand up for my future family. I will make phone calls and demonstrate to stand up for not just my future family but for all families. I won’t only be socially active when it is convenient for me. I know that not all people agree with me or understand the depth of urgency that I have to work, march, talk, type to make this world a better place. No, I don’t consider myself a “strong” woman. You may think I’m a “nasty” woman. But I choose to be active because I know that my current and future family depends on it.

 

~Chelsea

I’d never wanted a tattoo. It wasn’t that I was opposed to them. I just didn’t know of anything that I wanted to put on my body forever. Being 32 years old, I just thought I’d never get one.

It’s amazing how one, little, simple, black mark can have so much meaning. A cross, the size of dime, on the base of my pinkie.

My tattoo is a part of me, literally. It’s etched into my skin and will remain there, just like our pursuit and journey to adopt is etched into our soul. I know that many of you have heard about some of the bumps in the road that we have recently faced, but we have complete and total faith that this is a part of our journey. I’ve learned a lot about faith in the last 17 months. “Just have faith.” It’s simplex. It’s complete and total trust. It’s based on spiritual apprehension rather than proof. But what I’ve learned is that it is not blind.

Although at times in our journey I’m not always sure of where we are heading, I have complete and total faith that where we end up is where we are supposed to be. My faith is with eyes wide open. Just because I don’t always understand, doesn’t mean I’m not listening, watching, being present.

It’s amazing how one, small, simple mark on my left hand can mean so much. I know that my faith will remain, just as will my tattoo.

~Chelsea

 

“DNA doesn’t make a family. Love does.” This was a quote that early on in our adoption story I was quite fond of, embarrassingly. I mean at one point I even entertained getting a “Paper pregnant” t-shirt, again embarrassing. Boy, has education, experience, and listening changed my views on things. People say hindsight is 20/20, but that just means you can see things, or in this case, experiences how they should appear. I feel like our adoption journey has given us 15/15 vision…not only are we able to see it but with every step of our journey it is increasingly becoming more clear. What’s your vision when you hear about adoption—about Eli and my adoption journey? By no means do we expect your vision to be 15/15. In the last 16 months Eli and I have had “adoption” Lasik. As our friends and family, you are along this adoption journey with us. Don’t worry, we don’t expect you to go under the laser any time soon, but a routine “adoption vision” screening may be helpful.

We understand as our friends and family that broaching the topic of adoption with us, or other HAPS (hopeful adoptive parents), can feel awkward, prying, weird, uncomfortable, or almost sad. You may want to help, but not know what to say or how to say it. Please know, we understand and can appreciate how uncomfortable this can be. We are so incredibly blessed to have such fantastic friends and family, so Eli and I felt it was important to share ways, approaches, and information to help “frame” adoption conversations or questions in a way you can feel more comfortable with.

1. Don’t steer away from a conversation that may be a little difficult

We understand that our situation and way of building our family is different. We also are well aware that with differences come curiosity, questions, and conversation. We welcome this. We know that on your end it can be incredibly awkward to bring something up, but for us, it’s a lot more awkward knowing that people have questions or curiosities but just are too bashful or worried about offending to ask or talk about them. I had a great conversation the other day with a very good friend who wasn’t afraid to ask a question. We were talking about the ups and downs lately in our adoption journey and this friend asked me to not be offended, and then inquired about the fact that I’ve had two miscarriages and would I consider the biological route again. This was a great question that I was more than happy to answer. Remember…if you’ve got the question, the likelihood that Eli and I have already thought about it, chewed on it, and analyzed it to death is quite high. Your questions are not going to make us angry, and quite frankly, if it’s something we’re not willing to talk about, we will say just that. Conversation and dialogue is where learning takes place. We are proud of our adoption journey and therefore happy to talk about the good, bad, and ugly.

2. “I bet now that you’re adopting you’ll get pregnant” is not a helpful line

Now, if you’ve said something like this, please don’t worry. This is a phrase that many hopeful adoptive parents have heard quite often. However, it’s just not true. Yes, some people do happen to get pregnant when they adopt or pursue adoption, but honestly, for the most part, it’s pure coincidence as far as my research goes. Now, speaking for Eli and I personally, getting pregnant has not been a problem. As a hopeful adoptive parent, when I hear someone say something like this it sounds like, “Yay, that’s great you’re adopting, but I bet you really wish you could still have biological children.” It takes away from my news. This is how simplex things can be—I can be sad over having two miscarriages but incredibly joyous that I am building our family through adoption. Adoption is our choice, our path, what we are doing.

3. Don’t let adoption be the pink elephant in the room

Adoption is a huge part of our lives. We talk about it, think about it, read about it all the time, much like a family who is biologically having and preparing for a baby. We know that I don’t have the growing belly, glowing mom look, but we do want to talk about it. Don’t worry if you’re not sure what to say. Start off easy just like you would with anyone else. Would you like to have a lot of children? What are you most excited about? Are you nervous about anything? Boy or girl?

4. We need you

You may wonder sometimes where you fit into this whole equation. We desperately need our friends and family. You’re who we can lean on when we both feel tired. Many of you are wonderful with letting us know that you are there and that all we need to do is ask for help if we need it, but sometimes we don’t know what to ask or, believe it or not, aren’t sure how to start the conversation (ironic, right?). I remember in the last two months venting to a friend via text, and she just texted, “I’m sorry. I just wish things would go your way for once.” This meant the world. It was nothing earth shattering. She didn’t fix all the problems or hurdles we were facing, but she validated what I was feeling.

I’ve come a long way from the crazy quotes and embarrassing t-shirts. With every article, conversation, and experience our “adoption vision” is getting better and better. Maybe we’ll get 10/10. Eli and I are so blessed to have such loving family and friends in our lives. We are excited to continue to talk, learn, and grow through this journey with you all by our sides.

 

~Chelsea

 

 

 

 

 

So when Eli and I go up into Canada on one of his “epic” canoe trips, we always make sure to pack multiple compasses. He uses it to orient our canoe in the right direction as he is navigating on his complicated-looking topographic map. He keeps one on him in case we get lost in the woods. Hey, I’m terrible with a compass, but I even keep one just in case we lose his. Compasses are essential for the outdoor enthusiast. Don’t you ever wish that life would just give you a compass?

I’d love to know where our “true north” is right now in our adoption journey. We are facing an interesting time and could use a compass to steer us in the right direction. Our Wisconsin private home study will be expiring in the middle of February, and we are currently in a very interesting position. In a normal situation a waiting adoptive family for DIA (domestic infant adoption) would just renew their home study, typically through their agency, and continue to wait, get their name out there, and hope that an opportunity comes along. Unfortunately, for various reasons, we are choosing to not continue our adoption journey with our current agency.

In the last six weeks we have been researching tirelessly. We are open to so many things, which is wonderful, but it has also made our decision making process difficult. Because we are leaving our agency, we will essentially be starting over. We are currently starting with deciding whether or not we will get a public or private home study license. Mind you, a private license would enable us to continue down the path of an agency adoption, and a public license would open us to safe haven, foster to adopt, or just foster parenting. Sounds simple, right? But it’s anything but simple. A home study is valid for a year, and after waiting for the amount of time we already have, a full year is another large commitment, and we want to make sure we take the step in a direction that we feel confident in.

These decisions are some of the most difficult decisions we have both ever made in our life, and I couldn’t be more proud that they are difficult decisions. If they weren’t hard, I don’t think I would really understand the gravity of the path we are embarking on. So, although at times I really wish I had that compass to point us to “true north” in our adoption, I’ve got a touch of wanderlust, and I’ll settle into trusting our inner direction.

Have you ever wished you had a compass for life? What do you do when you’re faced with an exciting, difficult, but incredibly important decision? Would love to hear your experiences, questions, and/or comments!

~Chelsea

 

 

 

 

Way, way back in high school I used to run cross-country. Every summer before the cross-country season would start I had good intentions of training to prepare myself for the difficult short distance, speed practices and the grueling long distance runs that I would soon face. And guess what? Every summer I instead found many other things to do that often did not include running. And every year by the end of the first practice I had the worst side cramp you could imagine, a beet red face, and usually the dry heaves. I vowed I would train earlier next year.

We’ve been in our adoption process for quite some time, but I’m not making the novice mistake that I made in high school with cross-country. I have been preparing for the adoption marathon that we are in and that we will continue to be in. Many of you that have heard about our experience probably remember how Eli and I were at the start of our journey. We were super talkative about adoption. I chose bedding and colors for a nursery. We had an adoption party. The interesting thing, and I’m sure some people have wondered, is that we now may not even end up adopting an infant. We thought we would, but plans change. Although it may seem crazy to decorate a nursery and to have an adoption party, not even knowing whether or not we will be adopting an infant or an older child, or hey, maybe a sibling group, it helped us to run this marathon. It was our fuel. As Eli and I were talking one night about the possibility of extending our openness to older children, we talked about if it was a mistake to decorate a nursery or to get all those cute baby things. And with absolute certainty, I told him it wasn’t. If we never have a baby, I needed to be able to decorate an adorable nursery, hold cute baby things, and get that experience. No matter what happens, I know I’m thankful for it.

So far in December and the start of January, Eli and I have been laying pretty low with how to proceed next in our adoption process. This may look like we aren’t doing anything or that we just aren’t moving forward, but this couldn’t be further from the truth. We are refueling. We are preparing for the middle-leg of our adoption marathon. We were feeling a little fatigued, but we’re getting our second wind. What’s our fuel? Education, articles, books galore. What else? Friends and family reaching out in support when we don’t know what to say. It’s hard to tell people what you need, when you’re out of breath, but the cheers from the sidelines rejuvenate us.

We are in for the long haul. Just one foot in front of the other.

~Chelsea

 

In the last 16 months I have gone through a crazy range of emotions. Some days all I want to do is talk adoption. Other days I desperately want to gush over cute baby/kid things. Then there are those days where I feel super cynical and could cry at the drop of a dime. Our adoption journey has been kind of unpredictable. It’s taught us to let go of what we cannot control. However, the constant has always been my partner in crime–Eli.

To know my husband is to love him. Hmm…how do I even describe him? He is by far one of the quirkiest individuals I have ever had the privilege of meeting (don’t worry, he would take this as a compliment). He is incredibly intelligent, quick-witted, and is one of the hardest workers you will ever meet. To say that I admire him is an understatement.
Ever since we decided to adopt, Eli has been super conscientious every step of the way of my emotions, feelings, and wants. He encouraged an adoption party because he wanted me to have the special moment moms-to-be get. As we started to look at adopting older sibling groups, he looked me right in the eyes and asked how I would feel about never raising a newborn. When we were going through some of our lowest times in our journey so far, he looked to me first, asking what he could do to make things better for me.

My husband will be the most incredible father. Yes, because of his quirks, intelligence, work ethic, and fantastic sense of humor. But even more importantly, he will be the most incredible father because of his compassion, sensitivity, and love. This is the side everyone doesn’t always get to see but is by far his best side. This is the man who will pull over on the side of the road to help a lady who is having car problems. The man who prays for people who have wronged him. The man who hates to spend money but will give generously and willingly to those in need. The man who never blinked an eye to never having biological children.

No doubt…as I continue to embark on life’s adventures, I have an incredible “partner in crime” in my dear Elijah. A man who really embodies what it means to be simplex.  Just another thing I love about him.

~Chelsea

 

 

 

 

 

Toby Mac said, “Don’t try to rush things that need time to grow.” When I saw this quote the other night, it stopped me right in my tracks. Patience can be a hard lesson to learn, and as I continue to grow, gain insight, and mature I’m realizing that this isn’t just a virtue you learn and master at one point in your life. It’s a virtue that I know I will continue to work on throughout my life.

Our blog has talked a lot about our back story, our uncertainty, our wait, and at times our confusion. If our adoption path and journey that we are on right now was an iceberg, that stuff would only be the very tip. The tiny part that is visible above the water line. To describe this journey and what it has taught me is difficult. As a matter of fact, any time I really get into it Eli chuckles a bit because I immediately start to choke up and my eyes well up with tears. This isn’t because of sadness but rather overwhelming joy. Joy and hope.

I have learned more in the last 16 months than I ever thought possible. I’m a teacher so, naturally, I really do like to devour information. And that’s what I’ve been doing, but I’ve been doing it differently than ever before. During the start of our process we were both starry eyed, crazily optimistic, and really thought we were well prepared. Now, don’t get me wrong, by no means were we ill-prepared and by no means am I now pessimistic, but I feel so much more aware. I know my journey has taught me that.

I’ve read through countless books, read hundreds upon hundreds of articles, and have researched things up and down. But you want to know what has been the most valuable? Listening. I’ve sat back and listened to people in the adoption community—adoptees, birth parents (first parents), and other adoptive parents.

You see this has been my joy, our joy, in our journey. I have learned so much. My eyes are wide open. My heart is wide open, and I know that I am better for it. Not just for my future child/children, but for myself as a human being. I have the insight now and am developing the patience to do right by my future child/children no matter how difficult or painful it may be for me. I am gaining perspective on some of the hurt and rawness that is left by adoption. Our journey, this time we’ve been waiting, some of the bumps in the road are preparing us, and I am incredibly thankful for that, even though at times it’s painful and hard. You see, before you get calluses you have blisters. The blisters aren’t a bad thing at all. They are making your skin stronger. I don’t know what’s in store for us, but I know that there is much joy to be had in this journey.

~Chelsea