No Regrets

I have been emotionally neck-deep in the Amy/Chris saga for six months. That's a long time, particularly when you're an "all in" kind of girl like me. I can prattle on about protecting my heart and not getting my hopes up so I won't get hurt, but it's all talk. I'm not protecting anything. To give you some idea of how badly we wanted to be Chris' parents, when it became clear that only in-state families would be considered for Chris, O and I actually sat down and discussed the logistics of getting an apartment in Chris' county for the long haul. THAT'S how badly we wanted to adopt this child. O and I don't even like to be apart for one night. Cannot stand it. And yet we were actually discussing being in two different states indefinitely.

So, since we got the e-mail from Chris' worker 13 days ago letting us know that we would not be considered for him, I have been trying to make peace with the fact that unless some sort of miracle occurs, we really aren't going to get the opportunity to be Chris' parents. I know that I will eventually be fine and that the pain will fade away, but before I could truly start to let it go, I knew I had to do one final thing.

I wrote the judge a letter. It read as follows:


My name is ___________. My husband O and I are the couple that Amy _______ contacted about adopting her son Chris.

I’ve been friends with Chris’ foster mother for years and my husband and I visit her home and her family often. As such, we’ve known Chris since he was an infant and have been fortunate enough to watch him grow into the darling toddler he’s become.

As you may recall, we are approved foster and adoptive parents in the state of Alabama. When Amy approached us about adopting Chris last winter, we were surprised but did not have a moment’s hesitation – it was an immediate “yes”. At that point, we suspended our adoption search to be available for anything that Chris' County's D*C*F*S might need from us. Being a resource for Chris was and is our very top priority.

On July 14, 2010, I sent Chris' caseworker, ____________, our approved home study and a scrapbook that illustrates our life. Almost a month later, I e-mailed Ms. _________ to confirm that she had, in fact, received the things we’d sent.

I received a reply on August 13, 2010 wherein Ms. _______ informed me that regardless of our existing relationship with him and the fact that we are an approved adoptive home, we will not be considered for Chris. Ms. __________ said that if he is not reunified with Amy, he will be placed on the waiting list for the state of ___________. She went on to say that if no one in-state wants to adopt him, then we might be considered.

This, of course, has broken our hearts. It has also confused us because it’s our understanding that D*C*F*S had, on more than one occasion, begged Amy to find a suitable placement for her son and in choosing us, that is exactly what she did.

It had been our intention to attend the next hearing on Chris' case, and to be present to answer any questions you may have for us. But given the fact that D*C*F*S has said they will not even consider us as a potential placement for Chris, we have elected not to come.

However, we did not want you to mistake our absence for apathy. My husband O and I still care very much for Chris and would be absolutely honored to be his parents. If he were placed with us, we would do everything within our power to make sure he has the opportunity to live a joyful and successful life.

We are more than happy to answer any questions you may have for us, either now or in the future. Our contact information is as follows: _________________________.

Thanks so much for your time and consideration Judge _________ . We truly appreciate it.

Do I believe that this letter will make a difference? No, I don't. This judge has already said he has no jurisdiction to make D*CF*S do anything, and D*C*F*S doesn't want us to have Chris, even if Amy does. Even if the judge does. But I wanted the judge to know that we would have loved and cherished Chris for the rest of our lives. Even if it doesn't make a difference.

Above all, though, I wanted to be able to look back on this situation with no regrets. None. I wanted to be confident that I'd done everything I knew how to do. And now I have.

However, there is one thing that, after lots of soul searching, I can't do. I have a new number for Amy, but I can't bring myself to call her, for several reasons.

First of all, as I've mentioned before, Amy is really shy and awkward and I don't want to catch her off guard with such a question and have her feel backed into a corner.

Secondly, Amy has a history of telling people what they want to hear - whatever gets her out of an uncomfortable situation in the moment. I simply can't trust what she says.

Thirdly, I'm just starting to heal. If I hear Amy say, "Of course I want you to adopt Chris", I will be back in it up to my neck, setting myself up for more heartache because again, D*C*F*S does not care what Amy wants. It would be like ripping open a wound that's just starting to heal.

Finally, I am someone who is pretty focused on doing the things I have to do to reach my goals. Maybe it's the only child in me - the "I want it when I want it how I want it and I'm going to MAKE it happen" syndrome. As such, it is very easy for me to lose perspective and continue trying to push forward to get what I want (in this case, to be able to nurture and spoil that little man for the next 20 years or so) when it might just be over. I have to get better at that - at knowing when it's time to congratulate myself for fighting the good fight and get on with my life.

(I also get caught up in the principle of things - I should continue to fight Chris' state's D*F*C*S because what they are doing is flat out wrong. It is. And on principle , I should battle it out with them. But I have learned one thing very clearly in the last 3 years. The foster care system is fraught with injustice. With outrageous situations. With abuse of power. With heartache. And truly, there is nothing I can do about it. I can fight D*C*F*S with every cent I have and with every breath in my body and I will lose, because as a hopeful foster/adoptive parent I have absolutely no power in this situation. Whatsoever.)

Am I open to a miracle? You bet I am. I believe that miracles happen every day. My marriage is evidence of that. If I get even a slight indication that there is any hope whatsoever, I am back on board. 100%. But right now, I simply don't see any hope. None at all.

Amy is going to have a new baby one of these months. She mentioned maybe doing a placement plan with us when the child is born. I did write her a letter telling her we'd be honored to raise her baby. I wanted her to know. I wanted her to remember. I wanted there to be no confusion about where we stand on the subject. Again, do I think that letter will make a difference? No, I guess I don't. Not really. But it's all about having no regrets.

So tonight I'm going to hit the "publish post" button, go take a nice long bath, climb into bed with my husband, and instead of thinking about Chris' beautiful eyes and his boat paddle feet, I am going to instead try and congratulate myself on a fight well fought, and try . . . try . . . try to move on with my life with no regrets. I guess that's all I can do . . . try.