Saturday, October 12, 2013


My professor wanted me to write a poem about being an adoptive father.Here is the first of two.


Our eager expectation lost,
We mourned with the mournful.
Trying, waiting, nothing gained.
Others’ quivers filled plentiful,
We tried rejoicing with the joyful.
Bitter envy knocked, tears streamed,
Was having children just a dream?

“Foster-to-adopt takes courage.
Children placed and moved,
Bonds forged and broken.”
Was it how we should proceed?
Doors opened, we went, with no regret.

DHHS trained us for the worst,
Yet we hoped for the best.
Invasive home studies, cautioning tales.
Water tests, deck rails, window changed.
Not yet approved, we still waited.

Pregnant pauses notwithstanding,
One phone call changed everything:
“We have a boy, three weeks old.
Would you like him?”
We were bold. “Yes, what time?”
“We will bring him in early evening.”

Unlike others, no nine-month warning,
We needed a crib, bedding, food, clothing!
Bosses accommodated, friends assisted.
In the evening, we were holding
a little boy who’d be our own.

Visits, hearings, all the process,
Attempt to reunify—
An unwanted recess.
Three weeks later he came home,
Truly never more to roam.

Adoption hearing with the judge:
”C is yours until you’re dead.
Be good to him, now Mom and Dad,
Provide for, love and cherish him,
Forever family. Rejoice. Be glad.”

We overflow with gratitude
That we have this treasured son.
To gain another two years later,
Adopting two who were so young.
This is our little, joyful brood.


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