We Didn't Adopt Our Sons' Sister
This featured post is from a blog that's dedicated to the truths we must tell, even if—maybe especially if—it doesn't feel go to share it. The blog earns its name every day: Honest Conversations to read the rest. And remember not to judge; we all face decisions like these in our lives, and we often don't even know when they're coming.
Meeting my Sons’ Birthmother for the Third Time: The Pain of Not Adopting
"Amy,” the social worker said, “Melanie is pregnant again.”
I breathed in the collective worry of all mothers and exhaled only carbon dioxide. Some number of minutes or hours later I asked when the baby was due.
“April 19th,” she replied. I did the math—a little less than two months away. J was just starting to talk, and sliding headlong into the “terrible twos” (which start at 18 months, by the way). We had just moved to a new city where my husband and I were trying to build law practices. The ink was barely dry on the deed to a tiny, three bedroom house—a house sized for a family of 3.
I gathered in more air and asked, “Is she planning to parent this baby?”
“No. And she hasn’t picked a family.”