The Perfect Child
Page 9
Shame washed over me, making it hard to speak around the lump of emotions in my throat. “I just . . . I mean, I know it sounds silly, and I get that we’d be great parents for her, but I . . . I want a baby.” I couldn’t look at him. I stared at an imaginary spot on the tiled floor instead.
During our infertility journey we had agreed to stop trying once I reached forty and accept our childless fate because neither of us wanted to raise children when we were older. We wanted to be able to run freely after balls and play tag with bodies physically fit enough to do it and didn’t like the possibility of not being able to see our grandchildren grow up. We’d celebrated my forty-first birthday this past year and decided we’d stretch our limit to forty-three. Janie was going to take years of work to stabilize. There was just no way to make it work.
He waited a few minutes before speaking. “I understand that you want a baby, and I’ve always felt the same way, but I think we need to really think about this before we say no to it. For years, all we’ve wanted is a baby. It’s consumed us. And now?” He lifted my head up with his fingers so I would look him in the eye. “It’s like the universe had a special plan all along and just dropped her in our lap. You don’t feel that at all?”
“I do.” Every part of me wanted to help her, to give her a perfect home and wash all her pain away, but adopting her meant giving up my dream. I would have to say goodbye to the possibility of ever having a baby to hold in my arms. I’d already let go of carrying a baby and having one that was our biological child. Could I give up another piece of my heart?
I didn’t know if I could. I wanted the tiny fist wrapped around my fingers and the new baby smell. I longed for the experience of cuddling my child against my chest as I fed him or her and the joy of every first.
“What about the father?” I asked, grasping at straws.
“There’s no record of a father on her birth certificate.”
“I already know that. That’s not what I’m talking about. Her father is somewhere out there, and we know nothing about the guy. What if it was him? What if he comes back for her?”
“Her dad isn’t coming back for her. He probably doesn’t even know she exists.”
“You don’t know that. What if years down the road he decides that he wants her and comes looking for her? The only way I can do this with Janie right now is because it’s temporary, so I don’t allow myself to get attached like it’s permanent. But if I thought we’d be her forever parents? Everything would be different. Everything.” My voice cracked.
He took a strand of my hair and tucked it behind my ear. Concern was written all over his face. “I understand your fears. All of them. Look, it’s been a really long day. Super emotional. Let’s just give it a rest for the night and not make any big decisions, okay?” He rubbed my cheek with the back of his hand. “Just think about it. No pressure. I’ll be okay with whatever decision you make.”
And for the next few days, he tried to be patient. He left me alone, never even brought it up. But I knew it was eating away at him. He wanted Janie as much as I wanted a baby, and he was right—we were the perfect parents for her. I couldn’t argue with him about that. She was going to need ongoing medical care for a long time, and no one could manage it better. Social services wouldn’t find a better match.
I grieved the loss of my faceless babies. I did it alone because Christopher didn’t understand. It wasn’t his fault. No man understood what it was like for a woman not to have a baby to hold. I didn’t like to cry in front of other people, so the shower had always been my sanctuary. I’d spent hours crying in it after my miscarriages, and it wasn’t any different now. I let the torrent of sobs rip through me as the water pounded against my bare flesh, turned up so hot it left red marks on my body when I was done, like I’d broken out in a bad case of hives.
I brought it up the following night since Christopher grew more anxious with each passing day even though he still hadn’t mentioned it again. I couldn’t stop thinking about adopting Janie either. It was the first thing on my mind when I woke up and the last thing I thought about before I went to bed.
I waited until Janie was engrossed in a movie so we could sneak into the kitchen without her noticing our absence. She hated being alone, especially at night. I took a seat on one of the barstools, and Christopher quickly did the same, knowing we only had limited time before Janie lost interest in whatever was playing on the screen. She’d been with us for almost two weeks and hadn’t made it through a full movie yet.
“I’m ready to talk about adopting Janie again,” I said, not wasting any time. His face lit up. He was bursting to say something but held himself back, letting me go first. “Being Janie’s emergency foster care placement is one thing, but becoming her parents is entirely different. Our whole life is going to be disrupted, and I’m not sure you’ve given thought to all the problems she’s going to have. Look at what we’ve already seen, and I’m sure that’s only the beginning.” I took a deep breath, choosing my words carefully. “Sometimes I think you let your emotions with Janie cloud your thinking, and I just want to make sure you’re thinking about this rationally.”
He jumped in as soon as I paused. “Of course she’s going to have problems, but that’s exactly why she’d be such a great fit for us. We have the time and the resources to help her in ways nobody else probably can. Any new family would be up against a steep learning curve trying to figure out her medical issues, but I’ve been on her case from day one and followed every piece. We’d be able to make sure everything got followed up on and nothing was missed. It’d be a seamless transition for her services. Plus, she would have our undivided attention because she wouldn’t be in a foster home with other kids running around.”
“But what about her emotional issues? We have no idea how child abuse syndrome plays out over time. Piper said her case is one of the worst that she’s ever seen.”
“I don’t expect her to be able to function like a regular kid any more than you do. It’s going to take time, but think about it, Hannah—she’s still so young and has so much time to heal. There’s going to be a ton of work initially, but there might come a day when she’s totally normal.”
I raised my eyebrows. “Do you really think she could be normal?”
Christopher reached over and took both my hands in his. “I do. Look at how well she’s done in such a short period of time with only a little bit of love and attention. Imagine what she could do in a real home with two parents who loved her and were willing to do whatever they could do to support her. We could take our family leave time like we planned to do when we got a baby and put all our focus on helping her adapt and adjust.”
It made sense, and there was something beautifully poetic about it. That wasn’t lost on me. But my heart still ached.
“I don’t know, Christopher. How is this any different than what we talked about with the foster-to-adopt kids?”
We’d spent most of our evenings this past year cuddled up next to each other on the couch with our laptops open, flipping through hundreds of pictures of kids and reading their stories. I’d had no idea there were so many kids up for adoption. There were kids who had been in foster care for years, sibling groups begging to stay together and not be separated. Other children with severe physical disabilities or who had been abandoned. No matter what their stories, they had one thing in common—all of them were searching for their forever families, and their stories were heart wrenching.
Kids in foster care came with a host of problems that we didn’t want to deal with. Most of the kids were drug addicted or exposed, had been medically neglected, or had pretty significant disabilities. We didn’t want to be saviors. We just wanted to be parents.
“But we never met any of those kids. Maybe if we had, we would’ve felt differently.”
“Maybe,” I said, but I wasn’t convinced. The closer I got to saying yes, the further away my dreams of a baby went. “Have you even considered the danger we are putting ourselves in
if we become her parents? We don’t even know what happened to her. Isn’t it a huge risk if someone comes back? Do you want to always be looking over your shoulder? Are you ready for all that?”
He nodded. “Of course I’ve thought about all of that, and yes, I’m willing to take the risk.”
“Even if it means putting me in danger?” It came out without thinking. I was desperate.
He balked with offense. I quickly added, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”
“I would never knowingly put you in danger, Hannah,” he said, swallowing his anger to avoid a fight. “If I really thought someone was going to come after Janie again or do something to hurt you, I wouldn’t consider it, but I don’t think that’s the case. I’ve always believed the police are going to catch whoever did this to her and put them away. I still think that. They just haven’t found the person yet. That’s all.”
“It might not be that simple.” I sighed. Janie giggled from the living room, and my heart flooded with warmth like it did each time she laughed or enjoyed something. I couldn’t deny how much she already meant to me. “I need more time to think about it.”
He jumped up from his chair and stood in front of me. “Hannah, that’s just it—we don’t have time. They’ve already scheduled another family to come meet with Janie on Tuesday, and they have another one on the calendar for next week if that one doesn’t work out. What if this is our chance to have a beautiful family and we never get another one?”
“Can you at least give me a few more days?” I asked.
He nodded, searching my face to see if his argument had moved me. I struggled to keep my face natural and maintain my composure.
“I’m going to take a shower,” I said.
I headed to our bathroom before he could say anything else and turned on the shower. I couldn’t hold my tears back any longer, and they slid down both cheeks as the room filled with steam. I stepped inside, sliding the glass door shut behind me. I had never met a child who needed a home more than Janie. There wasn’t a kid in any of the profiles Christopher and I had looked at who needed love more than her. I knew what I had to do, what I wanted to do—but it didn’t make the pain of what I was giving up any less.
I had told Christopher to take Janie for a walk until I texted him to come back home. He’d looked at me strangely but had gone without question. I’d been rushing around the house trying to get everything set up as quickly as I could ever since. I decorated the living room with balloons and draped a banner over the fireplace that read CONGRATULATIONS—IT’S A GIRL. I ordered our favorite sesame chicken and set it on the dining room table. I placed a fresh bouquet of daisies in our best vase in the center of the table. It was perfect.
I texted Christopher:
You can come home now.
I flung open the door when I saw them walking up the sidewalk. Christopher was giving Janie a piggyback ride.
“Hi, guys. I missed you,” I said.
“Been like this for the last ten blocks,” Christopher said. He was trying to pretend he was annoyed to be carrying Janie, but his eyes smiled.
I took Christopher by his arm and led him to the living room. He scanned the room, taking it all in. It took a second for the words on the banner to register. His eyes grew huge.
“Are you serious?” he asked. He set Janie down on the floor. She looked around curiously at all the balloons and eyed the banner, trying to decipher the letters.
I nodded. “I am.”
He threw his arms around me and lifted me off my feet, twirling me around as he shrieked with laughter. “Really? This is so amazing! We’re finally going to be parents!”
I smiled as he danced me through the living room. It was just like I’d imagined he’d react when I showed him a pregnancy stick with two red lines in the window. Maybe this wouldn’t be as different as I’d thought.
He cupped my face in his hands and kissed me slowly. “I can’t believe we’re doing this.”
I leaned into him, his arms encircling me. “Me either.”
CASE #5243
INTERVIEW:
PIPER GOLDSTEIN
It’d taken me over three months to grow my nails out beautifully and only a few minutes to chew them back down to nubs. It was so nerve racking. Why did they insist on asking me questions that they already knew the answers to? I took a deep breath, hoping I’d give them what they needed this time.
“I did a home visit with them the day after their hospital visit.”
“Which hospital visit?” Ron asked.
“The first one,” I said. Janie had gotten into the bathroom during her third week with the Bauers and swallowed a bunch of shampoo. They’d pumped her stomach and kept her overnight for observation. “And yes, I did suggest respite care then because I was shocked at how tired Christopher and Hannah looked.”
Respite care was a break for foster parents. Another foster family took your child for the weekend so you could rest. It would’ve been horrible for Janie, but I had considered it because the two of them had looked awful. They hadn’t even looked like the same people.
Christopher had been bleary eyed and unshaven. His clothes had been wrinkled and unkempt, like he might have slept in them the night before, which was completely out of character for him. He had always looked like he’d just stepped off the golf course, with his polo shirts tucked into his pressed khaki pants. He had sat slumped in the upholstered chair next to the fireplace in the living room. Hannah hadn’t looked any better. She had bustled around the living room with frenetic energy like if she stopped moving, she might fall asleep on her feet. There had been heavy black creases under her eyes.
“And they refused respite care?” Ron asked.
I didn’t like his tone. “Lots of family don’t use respite care, but I always offer it,” I said. “We sat down and had a discussion about learning to take care of themselves and developing a support network for all the challenges that would present themselves as time went on. Janie had an entire team helping her with her issues, but they didn’t have anyone. Lots of parents forget about themselves.”
“What sort of things did you discuss?”
“They’d been keeping themselves fairly isolated inside the house. I stressed the importance of getting their family and other trusted people involved so they could have help caring for Janie. When you’re dealing with an emotionally troubled child, it gives a whole new meaning to ‘It takes a village to raise a child.’”
“I imagine.” Luke’s expression was blank. “Why were the Bauers so set on keeping Janie away from their family?”
Why did they make everything sound so bad and ill intentioned? I tried to keep the annoyance out of my voice. “It wasn’t like that. Christopher had read all these books on how to make adoptive children feel comfortable and settled in their first month. He and Hannah had taken time off from work so they could both be home with her during her first month. Lots of the experts said it was best to keep the number of new people to a minimum and to work on developing the parent-child relationship first before bringing other people into the circle. But like I told Christopher, the experts aren’t always right.”
Luke raised his eyebrows. “Do you consider yourself an expert?”
I blushed. “I . . . I mean, I’ve been doing this for over twenty years . . .”
Ron nodded, signaling that I could continue. He gave Luke a slightly irritated look.
“I explained to them that sometimes they had to make decisions based on their own situation. I suggested they introduce Janie to their families.”
“Why did you push so hard?”
“Because they needed help. They were going to fall apart if they didn’t get someone to help them.”
SEVENTEEN
HANNAH BAUER
I had listened to my married girlfriends complain about their in-laws enough to know how fortunate I was that my and Christopher’s families had gotten along since their first introductions. We were lucky that way. Christopher�
�s parents had always wanted a bigger family, so they were happy to welcome mine. Both couples had moved to Florida after retirement like traditional Midwesterners did. They lived two hours away from each other in the southern panhandle. Even when we weren’t visiting, they still went out to dinner with each other occasionally. Christopher’s dad had passed away three years ago, and my parents were a huge help to his mom, Mabel.
Our parents were excited to meet Janie but had been respecting our request for privacy. Allison had arranged a meal train but made sure everyone understood that the meals were to be dropped off on the porch or delivered by a food service. I called her first to let her know about our change of heart. She was thrilled and couldn’t stop squealing. My mom was even more excited than Allison. She took care of calling Mabel for us, and by the end of the night, they’d booked the same flight.
I was nervous when Saturday rolled around, but Janie seemed excited to meet new people. She let me put her in a dress and comb her hair, which she rarely allowed. I kept glancing over at Christopher, both of us holding our breath and waiting for her to revolt, but she sat calmly through the entire process. I even put a red barrette on each side. She looked darling. Christopher wouldn’t stop taking pictures, but she didn’t mind because getting her picture taken was one of her favorite things, and she never tired of scrolling through them. She smiled and beamed for each one.
My parents and Mabel arrived first since they were always early. They carried wrapped gifts with huge decorative bows. My mom knelt down cautiously in front of Janie, and to my surprise, Janie flung herself into her arms. “Hiya, what’s your name?” she asked, all smiles.
My mom was taken aback. She’d been listening to all of my stories about Janie for the past few weeks and hadn’t expected such a warm reception. “I’m Lillian, and I’m your grandma. Do you know what a grandma is?”
She shook her head.
My mom pointed to me. “I’m Hannah’s mommy. That means I’m your grandma.” She reached up to pull my dad down next to her. “And this is Gene. He’s Hannah’s daddy, which means he’s your grandpa.”