But do they accept the baby?


New dress made by her personal stylist

After my daughter was born, we had to wait six months until her adoption could be finalized in court. During that six-month period, we were required to complete several follow-up visits with the social worker from the adoption agency.

At one of those visits, the social worker came to our home and perched on the couch. I sat on the floor with the baby as she rolled around and played on a blanket. The social worker flipped through a file folder and asked me some random questions. The one that sticks in my mind the most was: "Does your family accept the baby?" I almost laughed out loud but bit my lip instead. It seems a ridiculous thing to ask but yet, I know there are people out there who cannot accept someone who does not share their DNA.

Fast forward four years to June 2009. A and I noticed a box on our front porch as we pulled into the driveway on Thursday. A few minutes later, she hopped out of the van and ran full speed towards the front door. She squatted over the box and flipped it over. "It has my name on it!" she squealed. I recognized my mother's handwriting on the label.

The box contained a handmade dress (one of many, many ensembles my mother has made for her curly-haired granddaughter over the past four years), a nightgown we had sent my mom to repair (the seam "broked all by itself"), and two hardback books that Meemaw had picked up at the store.

Does my family accept the baby? How to explain that not only does my family adore "the baby," but . . . most days I am pretty sure they (and even many of my friends) actually like her better than me? (It's okay - I am pretty irritating). Sometimes my mom or my sisters will call and if I answer the phone, they will just ask to speak to my daughter directly. They send her fabulous gifts for her birthday and for Christmas. They hop a flight to visit her whenever they can. My mom is convinced that A somehow got her curly hair from her. We talk about how A bosses other children around like my middle sister always did when she was a kid.

Accept the baby? Well, just barely.

Comments

Jodi said…
I love that post!!!

And that dress is so cute! Your mom has talent...as does mine. I always give her my stuff to sew also. I'm worthless with a needle and thread. :)
June 13, 2009 at 10:30 AM
Jen J said…
What a GREAT post!!!

Since Jim & I have been going through our latest journey (UGH! - especially after yesterday's catastrophe of a Home Visit) I can't tell you how many times I've been asked that question!!! I can't understand the need to ask it, but I suppose they have to.

GREAT dress by the way! Good job MeeMaw!
June 13, 2009 at 6:06 PM
erinvp said…
That is a great post! We were also asked that by our Natalia's birthmom's best friend. I too wanted to laugh instead I told her that we had so many people that couldn't wait to meet her we had to schedule appointments for the first month of her life.

If the people who ask these questions could only know just how much these babies are loved...
June 13, 2009 at 7:57 PM
Jen said…
First, I wanted to chime in that I can relate..having two non-genetically-injected-by-me children of my own. :)

Second, I have a port-o-potty update! Today at the parade Arthur had to use one and we had the opposite problem!

The kid went in, insisted that I stay out..and locked the door so I couldn't get in. I had about 1.2 seconds to lay the paper on the seat so that he didn't do the "rest his weeny" thing on the ledge.

I had to force him to come out to button and zip his pants and to use the sanitizer.

I honestly, wish I had your problem...ick!
June 13, 2009 at 8:49 PM
Lisa said…
What a blessing. Eric's parents do not accept our kids. They pretend to but then tell him he should not have adopted them so he could find someone who can give him bio kids. They also told us we could not use any family names for our kids. nice.
June 14, 2009 at 1:10 AM
Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

It's been a minute, but let's talk about my b*o*o*b*s

Image
I'm in the sixth grade. I'm sitting on the floor at my friend Sharon's house. Rachel is there, too. My well-meaning friends turn to me and gently let me know that I "really don't need to bother wearing a bra." They aren't wrong. I'm wearing one, but the situation doesn't particularly warrant it.  Two years later, I found myself sporting a C cup. My mom, a talented seamstress, made me a dress at about that time. It was a slim-fitting column dress with a matching jacket, as I recall. The white fabric had large polka dots; we jokingly called it the Wonder Bread dress. My mom took my measurements. 36-24-36 At some point in history, those numbers were considered "perfect measurements" for a woman. This was 1984; I'd like to think the world as a whole is less concerned about such things these days. I'm confident my daughter has no earthly idea what her measurements are. She just knows she's cute.  Growing up with a fun array of medi...
Read more

On Being Patriotic

The list of adjectives I assign to myself is pretty long: clumsy, organized, competent, uptight, etc. One that might surprise you: patriotic. I fully understand what it means to be an American and am darned happy about living here. But, I have a beef (that part won't surprise you). I've grown tired of certain segments of the population thinking that they've cornered the market on patriotism or that they can dictate precisely how the rest of us express ourselves when it comes to our shared country and flag. Sometimes it seems like the Toby-Keith-boot-in-yer-ass brand of patriotism drowns out the rest of us. For the record, I don't believe that patriotism requires a love of NASCAR, a disdain for immigrants, a Republican voting record, or a preference for country music. Nor does it require adherence to a specific religion. I've seen Facebook posts from some of my friends and acquaintances that call for all of us to return to the "Christian principles on which ...
Read more

14 Weeks

Image
My baby is leaving me in 14 weeks.  She and I started touring colleges in May of 2022. When I applied to colleges back in 1988, I was an English major so there were no auditions. Colleges basically just said, "Sounds good. Come on in." I was the first person in my immediate family to go to college and as a whole, I don't think we understood the importance of campus visits and such. I ended up being fairly miserable that first year until I transferred to a school closer to home. For my daughter, I wanted to make sure she had an opportunity to see lots of college campuses so that she had the best shot at figuring out what she wants out of the college experience. I wanted her to look at elements like campus size and location, diversity, activities, distance from home, and distance from the nearest "big city" (since performers often head to larger cities with active theatre scenes after college).  Last summer, we began the daunting process known as "getting int...
Read more