Our birthmother invited us to attend any of her appointments if we wanted to and we did. We had waited a long time to become dads and wanted to experience as much as possible. The first ultrasound provided us with a clear image of our future baby and also determined that it was a boy. It was very exciting and we felt so fortunate to have been a part of that moment. Around that time, we also learned the baby was due in late November or early December. Our birthmother found a clinic that was able to give her late-evening appointments so we could be there with her. Every Wednesday, we road-tripped up north to pick her up and accompany her to the clinic. She was never shy around us and never minced words with anyone about who we were. She always declared, “They are the dads!” End of story.
The doctors we met at the clinic were very good, but the nursing staff on those special Wednesdays were truly amazing. They made us all feel at ease, letting us know what to expect and when to expect it and always hoping to “See you next Wednesday.” All of this time was really important for us to get to know our birthmother and for her to get to know us and our little quirks.
Prior to our last clinic visit, we decided to have dinner together at a local pizza place. Our birthmother had heard of one of their house specials called the “Prego Pizza.” It was heavy on the onions and garlic and believed to induce labor. Nothing happened that night except good food, good company and good memories. Over dinner, we revisited the fact that we hadn’t been the first family picked, but we all felt we were the perfect match for each other. We left that dinner feeling good about life, our connection to the birthmother and the real possibility that we were going to be daddies soon.
After the first false alarm, we had our bags packed and ready to go at the drop of a hat. By now we knew we were having a boy, so we had all of his things prepared as well—including a car seat. Two days after the Prego Pizza, our birthmother went into labor.
She called us at 3:00 A.M. “I’m headed to the hospital.”
We said, “We love you and we’ll see you soon.” We were up and out the door in fifteen minutes. We drove to the hospital in record time. When we arrived, the reality hit us that the next time we walked out of that hospital, we might very well be dads. Every moment was emotional and surreal. When we finally walked into our birthmother’s room, it was 5:00 A.M. She was happy to see us, but not really in a talkative mood. Suddenly, we realized that we didn’t really know how to help. That was where our labor and delivery angel came in, Nurse Christy. She was just amazing! She had actually read our birth plan and put us right to work.
She said, “Daddy, stand here. Papa, stand here and assist Mom in whatever she needs. Don’t panic and be ready.” She fluttered about us from 5:00 A.M. to 8:00 A.M., including us in everything she was doing. After one final check, she declared, “It’s time.” Nurse Christy called in the doctor, took us by the arms and said, “This is it!”
Our son was born at 8:05 A.M. and in that moment of time, our whole world changed. Our hearts pounded, adrenaline rushed through our veins and huge grins appeared on both of our faces. We were finally dads.
About thirty minutes after he was born, another nurse brought the birth certificate paperwork into the room where it sat staring at us for approximately an hour. At some point, we could sense our birthmother’s anxiety about it, so we asked her if she wanted our help in completing it, which she did. We read off each line and she responded to the questions. We had previously discussed with our birthmother that we wanted to name the baby Kyan and give him our last name. We were very lucky that she was open to this, because we didn’t have to change his name when we updated the birth certificate to reflect us as his parents.
Almost six months to the day after his birth, a good friend who happened to be a Superior Court Judge finalized Kyan’s adoption. The judge had received special permission to transfer our adoption into her court and finalized the legal process on our behalf. Despite being told to expect the birth certificate several months later, we were quite surprised to receive it within three weeks instead. Something about seeing the three of us on the birth certificate created a sense of security and “wholeness.”
We had heard so many horror stories from various people about how adoptions had fallen prey to myriad factions of demise. We had been warned by our adoption agency from the minute we opened the door for orientation about all of the “what ifs” and “what to do when things don’t go the way you planned.” We had mentally prepared for many of the potential pitfalls and attempted to stay two to three steps ahead of the process at any given time, knowing that the adoption could go off the rails at any moment. Seeing the birth certificate with our names in proverbial dry ink provided an intense and deep sense of reassurance, the magnitude of which we had never experienced before and haven’t since.
We remain in regular contact with Kyan’s birthmother. Once in a while, we’ll get a text or a phone call from her. We send pictures and leave the door open for a face-to-face meeting whenever she is ready. We also remain in contact with the amazing nursing staff at the prenatal clinic and our labor and delivery nurse, Christy. We send them pictures and keep in touch via e-mail. I’m sure at some point there will be a time when Kyan will want information about his birthfather. Other than the description his birthmother gave us, we still really don’t know anything else about him. This will be new territory for all of us, but we plan to advocate on his behalf when that time comes.
When Kyan turned one year old, we decided to go through the process all over again. We really want our family to grow and for our son to have a brother or sister. Peppered with sage advice about the “dos and don’ts” of parenthood, our families continue to support our decision to become dads. Our son has brought so much joy into our lives and we only hope that we have provided our birthmother with the peace of mind that her birth child is happy, safe and thriving. We owe her so much and are eternally grateful to her for allowing us to be present and for bringing such a beautiful child into our lives.
PART 2
FOSTER PARENTING AND ADOPTING FROM FOSTER CARE
Foster care is a situation where minors are temporarily placed into safe environments in the event that they are unable to live safely with their families for some reason. Children could end up in foster care as a result of neglect, abuse, divorce, the death of a legal guardian or a plethora of other unfortunate events that could disrupt a home. If you choose to become a foster parent, you will play a major role in adding stability to a child’s life by providing a safe home environment in his or her time of need. Foster care is designed to be a temporary solution until a child can be reunited with his or her previous parents or guardians, meaning you will only be caring for the child during a short transition period. However, reunification is not always possible and sometimes this temporary care can lead to a more permanent situation through adoption.
As with open adoption, foster care comes with its own unique rewards and challenges. You won’t have the hefty fees associated with surrogacy or private adoption and you may even receive a monthly stipend to help feed, clothe and meet the basic needs of the children placed in your care. While money should never be a reason to become a foster parent, it does help with taking care of a child. You will also have numerous resources to guide you along the way. Still, caseworkers are often overworked and prospective foster parents sometimes endure long wait times as a result.
Also, while not always the case, foster children may come from homes that were broken by drugs, sexual or physical abuse, financial hardship or many other scenarios. Because of this, there is a possibility that they may have developed aggressive behavior or emotional insecurities that could disrupt your household. There are also many children in foster care with medical issues, developmental delays and/or physical disabilities. Support is available to help you adjust, but it is important to fully understand a child’s background and how your life will be impacted before you decide to open your home.
When you foster a child, you also may have interacti
ons with a child’s birthparents that may not always be positive. Keep in mind that even if you work with an LGBT-friendly agency, the child’s birthparents or family members may not be so accepting. They might even be openly antagonistic toward their child growing up with gay or lesbian parents.
Finally, when you open your home to a foster child who has nowhere else to go, you’re not only helping them, but you’re helping their family and community as well. This is particularly true for LGBT youth. Unfortunately, there are still kids who get kicked out of their homes because of their sexual orientation or gender identity. It can be hard for LGBT children in foster care to find permanent homes. It can also be hard to find people willing to take in a child with HIV/AIDS. As a prospective LGBT parent, you are in a unique position to help kids in our community grow up in a safe, stable and accepting environment.
For those of you interested in becoming foster parents, this section details the diverse experiences that some same-sex couples have had when raising children from the foster care system. What is it like to care for a child who came from a broken home? Is it difficult for same-sex couples to get approved as foster parents? What does it feel like to bond with a child, only to have them leave your home shortly thereafter? Each story in this section provides a different perspective on the challenges and rewards of foster parenting and adopting from foster care.
Cori Ferguson and Casey Garrison
ST. LOUIS, MISSOURI
Casey and I decided to have kids after we had been together for several years. We were both married before to men, but didn’t have any children from those relationships. Casey has an auto-immune disease which made getting pregnant nearly impossible for her—stopping all of her treatments as needed could have had disastrous consequences—so we decided that I would be the one to have a baby.
Initially, we tried to do things at home with the help of our very good friend acting as a donor. At that point in our lives, our insurance did not cover infertility and we couldn’t afford the cost of paying it all out of pocket. We tried to get pregnant for several years using this method with no success. We were blessed that our good friend was so patient and committed to put up with it for that long!
We finally came to the conclusion that we needed some help, so I went to my OB/GYN. She prescribed medication that stimulates ovulation and referred us to another doctor who did artificial inseminations. My OB/GYN was fully aware that Casey and I were in a same-sex relationship, so it surprised us when her referral was for someone in that same office, because it was part of a Catholic university hospital.
We met with the doctor. He offered us his help, but said the only people in his office who could know were his nurse and the billing person. He swore them both to secrecy, because if the administration found out, the doctor could lose his job. We were astounded to learn that he was only going to charge us $250 each time!
So we began the journey. Each month I used ovulation tests for about a ten-day period. When we got a positive, we headed to the doctor’s office the next morning, after meeting our donor friend on the corner of our street to get the sample. Casey tucked the specimen cup inside her bra to keep it at body temperature and also to hide it when we got to the doctor’s office. It was really quite comical. We used to joke that the neighbors were going to think we were buying drugs and imagined everyone’s surprise when the cops discovered our secret hand-off was actually sperm!
After that, it was a waiting game for a week or so until I took a pregnancy test. Following the second round with the doctor in June 2011, one pregnancy test came back positive. We were ecstatic! Years of disappointments melted away when we saw the results. Sadly, I miscarried seven weeks into the pregnancy. It was probably the single darkest moment of our lives. Casey and I each grieved in our own way and finally came to the conclusion that maybe we were meant to go in another direction.
We started to investigate the possibility of adoption, but private adoption can be very costly and the process can take a long time. We discussed whether we might consider adopting a child from foster care. Was it even possible for us to do that as a same-sex couple living in the very conservative state of Missouri?
Missouri’s Department of Children’s Services stated that they didn’t discriminate based on sexual orientation, so we decided to go for it. But since Missouri didn’t allow second-parent adoptions if the parents weren’t married, we also decided that I was going to be the one listed as the licensed foster parent—my income was higher and we felt they might look at that as more stability. We submitted my application, making sure to include Casey in the answers so it was very obvious and clear that this was a joint effort.
The city of St. Louis was fantastic. They treated us no differently from anyone else and it gave us hope that this choice was going to work. They allowed Casey to attend all the same courses with me for free so she also could be educated as a foster parent. The second set of classes we attended was in a different county, so we were apprehensive. It was the country people, not the city people, who were less accustomed to diversity. Thankfully, everyone in the class treated us respectfully, even though there were many couples who made it clear that they were very religious.
While we were going through the sixty-four hours of required training, the home study and the background checks, our St. Louis caseworker occasionally sent us profiles of children who fit into the categories that we were willing to consider. We had gone into this expecting to end up with a three- to five-year-old child, because we were seeking adoption only and not fostering. On a Friday morning in May 2012, our caseworker sent us the profile of a ten-month-old African-American boy. She told us that she needed to know by the following Monday morning if we were interested in him, because they wanted to move forward with placing him in a pre-adoptive home.
Casey and I read that profile dozens of times over the weekend. We talked to our best friends about it and Casey talked to her mom, who is a registered nurse. The profile indicated that the baby had some significant developmental delays. At ten months old, he wasn’t sitting up or crawling yet. They also said he couldn’t eat regular food, so he was still on baby food and formula. The family history had indicated his birthmother was borderline mentally challenged and a history of developmental disabilities existed in his extended family.
We finally came to a decision together that it was better for us to have a baby who might have some delays and medical issues than an older child with behavioral and mental problems due to abuse. So we said “Yes, we are interested!” Honestly, I don’t think either one of us thought we had a chance of having him placed with us, because babies out of foster care are rare and we had the perceived handicap of being a same-sex couple.
A month passed and, just as we were about to give up, the caseworker called and told us that we were one of three couples selected to be interviewed for him. We were shocked and nervous. We had less than a week to prepare ourselves for what we jokingly called the Spanish Inquisition.
On June 25th, Casey and I went before the care team, which consisted of caseworkers, supervisors and the current foster parent. The interview lasted about forty-five minutes. We did our best to read what they were thinking, but still left there feeling completely stressed out!
They told us to expect an answer by the next day. We decided to go to one of the local casinos after the interview to get our minds on something else. As we were sitting playing video poker, my cell phone rang. It was our caseworker with a few more questions the care team wanted us to answer. We were encouraged, because it was 6:00 P.M. and they were still deliberating. Clearly we were still in the running if they wanted to ask some follow-up questions.
About thirty minutes later, my cell phone rang a second time. It was the caseworker again. This time she asked if there was somewhere we could go to put the phone on speaker: She wanted to talk to both of us at once. We made a mad dash to the quietest place we could find, which was the women’s bathroom. There were people inside, but we didn’t care. The c
aseworker said, “I just wanted to know what color you are going to paint Xavier’s room.”
Once Casey and I both caught on, we started jumping up and down, hugging each other and screaming, “I can’t believe it! They picked us!” I’m sure the other women in the bathroom were staring, wondering what in the world was going on. For that moment, we were the happiest people in the world and nothing else mattered.
We had been told the agency wanted to move quickly with the baby’s transition from the foster home to ours and they weren’t kidding! We had less than a month to prepare for our lives and home to change drastically. We emptied out our spare bedroom and repainted it. We needed to buy everything a baby needs, including a crib, high chair, car seats, clothes and more. We also had to schedule time off from work to bond with him when he came home. All the things you normally have nine months to prepare for, we had four weeks!
We met Xavier for the first time two weeks after being selected. We visited him in his foster home. He had been in the foster care system since he was three months old and we weren’t sure what to expect, given the information we had read in his profile. We hadn’t even seen a picture of him at that point, but Casey and I knew this little boy was our son.
Casey sat down on the floor where Xavier was scooting around on his belly and he immediately pulled himself over to her lap. We had been told he didn’t really display any emotion, didn’t smile and was scared of crowds. We talked to him, played with him and then we saw a ray of hope. The oldest daughter of the foster family came home and when she walked into the room, Xavier’s face lit up with a huge smile.
Journey to Same-Sex Parenthood Page 8