So, I can't find the original post, but my wife reluctantly pulled me into foster parenthood in early 2019. We've got two boys, and she wanted a third, I didn't, that was the compromise. I was worried it was a back door way to adopt a third, which I immediately told the agency it wasn't, she I think still wanted to. She's adopted herself.
In a crazy set of circumstances a baby was born in a toilet near the hospital, when the mother fled due to being high, a parole violation. We got a call. My wife visited her every day in the hospital because she was two months premature. But amazingly, she was healthy. No health problems, no signs of withdrawal from her user mom. She was just small.
We brought her home 2 weeks later, and she won me over. In a lot of ways our bond was closer than with my two biological sons. I was wrong, we wanted to adopt her. Her mother subsequently died of an OD, and father had a lengthy criminal history. They put up a non family member/friend, but there was no family option. We got a notice, after 6 months, that the state finally agreed with her guardian ad litem that the best thing for her was to move forward with adoption. The judge disagreed, and awarded immediate custody to the family friend. No transition period. We had 5 minutes to say goodbye.
We are handed over all of the clothes we bought her except her Christmas dress and the MSU cheerleader outfit she hadn't grown into yet.
Well, we had a little dude early COVID. We knew it was short term. His birth mom was clean but low functioning. So she just needed a support system. She got it. He was with us for about 6 weeks.
2 days after Christmas 2020 we got a third placement. This past Friday, after two and a half years, many court battles, the adoption was finalized.
We thought about changing her name, because we never would have chosen it on our own. But her name, Patience, kind of seemed appropriate.
