Perfect For Us

Originally posted January 22, 2021 -

Jacob fits perfectly into our family.  His brother and sister adore him and have since the moment we brought him home.  Jacob has brought nothing but love into our home.  He is pure.  I don't recall for one single moment any of us ever thinking he was a burden or questioning our decision to make him ours.

I remember walking into the hospital to meet Jacob for the first time in the same vivid way I remember arriving to give birth to Eli and Addison.  With Jacob, we had to present our identification to be checked against the CPS list and provide a security password.  We were led to the farthest corner of the 2nd floor, to a bare and lonely room, where our brave little guy was waiting with nothing more than his hospital-issued gown and diaper.  Kyle reached out his arms and was the first to hold him, just as he was with our bio children.  He has been Jacob's daddy since that day, wasting no time in springing him from his room for adventurous outings around the building that I'm sure drove the nurses crazy.  Because I am the foster parent who works more closely with the biological families and handles the details of the cases as they progress, I am always more guarded.  I will admit now that it was probably only a week later when he stole my heart by breaking out into a big gummy grin when he heard me talking as I entered his room.  The new aide remarked that she didn't know me, but it was okay because Jacob clearly did!  Babies need a mama.  They need one main person in which they can place their trust and develop a feeling of safety and love.  Out of all the people involved in his daily care -- nurses, aides, therapists, doctors, cps workers, volunteers -- Jacob was recognizing me as the person from which he wanted connection and attachment. 

We didn't embark on this journey without fear.  It was shocking and heartbreaking to watch this little baby attempt to work his broken body.  It soon became clear that he could see very little if anything at all.  He made no gains even with hours of daily therapy.  Every time we met with a specialist it was more bad news.  We now understood what his future would likely hold and it wasn't anything we had prepared to navigate as foster parents.  And yet, he loved us and we loved him.  We knew him better than anyone else in the world.  We couldn't imagine him being with anyone else.  And when it was time to discuss adoption, we knew he was meant to be ours.

It was not the adoption story we had imagined over the years.  We had always assumed that at some point our fostering would lead to adoption, always pledging that children who needed a forever home could stay and have one with us.  With Jacob, there were many in our circle of family and friends who did not support us adopting him.  There were concerns about the financial responsibility, which I found to be a prime example of the absurdity of American culture.  Nobody would have objected if we announced we were putting in a pool or buying brand new cars, but apparently they worried that Jacob might not be a good use of our money.  They felt that his poor prognosis and likely passing during childhood would be too difficult for our other children.  They felt that there are people out there who handle this kind of thing and Jacob should be with them.  Kyle has never cared what people think and he doesn't feel the need to explain our family or our decisions to anyone.  But I struggled with these opinions and still do.  It's hard as a mother to know that people don't always accept or value your child.  

As we journey forward with Jacob, it is often a quiet and lonely road.  I don't feel that I can share the difficulties we face with his health -- the exhaustion and worry of long hospital stays, the grind of daily therapies, the risk vs reward game we play with surgeries, medications and treatments, the helplessness of being unable to manage his pain.  Because we chose him, we chose this difficulty and we shouldn't complain about it.  I'm a worrier by nature, and I often worry that our little family might be standing alone when it is time for Jacob to leave us.

We are blessed with a small but mighty group of supporters who know and love our precious boy.  And others are slowly coming around.  I find myself with much more compassion and empathy for special needs families as we grow to understand the unique challenges and emotions we now face with them.  So we can't fault those around us for not understanding.  I think I simply long for people to acknowledge that Jacob is my son.  The bond of our hearts is the same as it is with the children that I carried in my womb.  Our love for him is fierce and deep and strong.  Yes, we chose him.  We chose him even with all the difficulties we knew he would face.  We chose him knowing we would have to say goodbye long before we were ready.  That doesn't make the uncertainty and the heartache of this journey any less poignant.  Jacob is a beautiful blessing.  We would choose him again and again and again.