Why are you kissing him?

Honestly, I forget that I am white and my son is African American. When we are out and about, I talk to him just like he is my son, go figure. I also have a tendency to hug and kiss on him like he is my son, go figure. Oddly enough, my son does not hesitate to talk to me like I am his Mother nor does he hesitate to hug and kiss me. I forget about our differences until some puzzled passer-by stares a little too long at my child. I forget about our differences, that others see all too clearly.

I have learned to take a deep breath and ask, “Can I help you?” I have learned that if I can hold my temper most people are simply curious. I have learned that if speak directly to them, they realize that they have been staring and usually politely retreat.

Things have changed, but to see the change live and in person is still a puzzle to some people. I do my best to help solve the puzzle, but there comes a point when you are a stranger and do not need to know. I do my best to help solve the puzzle and have had many pleasant conversations about fostering, adopting, and transracial families.

The Right Mom

If you give birth to your child, the question of whether or not you are the right Mom for your child may never cross your mind. At 3:00am when you are trying to clean spit-up out of your hair while calming a crying child, you may question your ability to be Mom, but not whether you are the right Mom.

As an adoptive Mom I have questioned whether or not I was the right Mom for my child. As my son came into the terrible 2’s his temper was not just terrible. It was terrible, horrific, extreme, unbelievable and intense. I tried to just say, “He’s 2.” But something inside me wondered. As he approached 3 his tempers were constant. I was afraid to take him to the park for fear of him hurting another child. He was kicked out of Sunday School and out of a Mothers of Preschoolers group. I seriously questioned my ability to be his Mom. I questioned if I was the right Mom for him.

My adopted son is also of another race than me which seemed to compound my insecurities. I have heard slander and racists comments about me and my family, but I had always chalked that up to ignorance and the lack of a loving spirit. But as my son became increasingly more difficult to handle, was I the right Mom for him? I questioned if race really did matter and questioned whether or not I was the right Mom for him.

At his annual check, the Doctor did the usual checking height, weight and various other vital statistics, and then he started asking me developmental questions like, “Does he know his colors? Can he say his ABC’s? Can he jump? Color inside the lines?” and more. As we talked, I began to realize that there was something wrong and it had nothing to do with my ability or right to Mother him.

We were then referred for more testing and the results showed a speech and development delay. He then was accepted into speech therapy and a special education class devoted to meeting his needs. Within 6 months his tempers had become few and far between. By the end of the year, he was speaking not just words but sentences too. His difficulties had nothing to do with me.

Since he is adopted and of another race, I sometimes still wonder if I am the right Mom for him, but I cannot deny how much I love him. Through our difficult time, I did what any Mother would do. I searched, researched, asked questions and eventually did find the help he needed. With every hurdle he jumps, I am right there like any Mother cheering the victories, comforting the disappointments, helping with the hurts, encouraging him to keep on trying as well as directing, teaching, counseling when and where I can.

My son continues to improve and succeed. My son is now known for his hugs and laughter. I love this child. I am his Mother, and I am the right Mom.

Equality in Love

“Do you recommend transracial adoption?” of course, I do. I adore both my sons. I do not see one as biological and one as adopted. They are both mine. I do not see one as Caucasian and one as African American. They both need food, clothing, shelter and love.

I refer to them as biological, Caucasian and adopted, African American only as a reference and credibility tool to allow readers to understand my point of view. I never call my sons at home the biological one or the adopted one. I never adapt the house rules, privileges and punishments based on their color or their birth story. My babies are my babies, and the differences you may see in how I interact with them is not because on race or blood line, but because my sons are five (5) years apart in age.

The only time I have truly noticed a difference between my Caucasian child and my African American child is in caring for their skin and hair. One has sensitive skin and needs special soaps and detergents. One’s skin burns easily but the other son’s skin scars easily. One has really thick and curly hair and needs special conditioners. The other’s hair is curly and wild and must be kept short to look neat.

Well, if I really think about it diet and desserts are different too. One is a meat eater and the other is leaning towards being a vegetarian. One loves ice cream and the other cake. Well, if I really think about it, I can think of a lot of things that are different between the two, but not based on color or blood, but based on the fact they are two different people with different tastes and interests.

Honestly, from those descriptions do you know which is for which child? You can absolutely love all your children in your transracial family. The issues and concerns you have will be the same ones every Mom or Dad has caring for their children. When you have siblings (transracial or not), you will have the same challenges as anyone else who has two children with two different personalities.

Transracial love is parental love. Regardless of color or blood line, you will love, laugh and cry with and for your children.

Discipline or Abduction

“Whose child is this?” was the urgent question a woman asked as I tried to remove my screaming four year old from a store. I was involved in an argument with my child and really did not understand the question, so I chose to ignore her. Again with a little force, she asked, “Whose child is this?” I shook my head trying to grasp her involvement in my situation and responded, “Mine.” She apparently did not like my response and took my son by the arm. At that point both of us turned on her and asked with a little anger, “What are you doing?” I don’t know if it was the sudden unity in our response or the angry darts I was shooting with my eyes that made her decide that this was not a fight she wanted to fight.

In a traditional family, a mother removing a screaming child from a store would produce a few cheers. We are not a traditional family. We are transracial which means one of us is of one race (myself, Caucasian) and another of us from another race (one son, African American). I suppose the woman looked at us and saw an abduction and not discipline.

I know that I have to be thicked skinned. I know that not everybody agrees with our family values. I know that these days you just don’t know who the good guys are or the bad guys are based on appearances.

I don’t know how to let strangers know that I am discipline-ing my child and not abducting some child.

Fall Festival at Home

One year it rained and our church’s outdoor festival was cancelled. We made an impromptu festival in our house. Some of the games we created were:

• Bean Bag Toss - We got several plastic bowls and a bean bag (you could use a small ball). I dropped some candy in the bowls so the kids got the candy from the bowl they hit.
• Hool-a-hoop – We were fortunate to have two hool-a-hoops, so we had a little contest. The winner got candy.
• Jumpin’ Bean – If you don’t have hool-a-hoops, you could have a jumping contest. Just have the kids jump in place until only one is standing. You may want to do this one last as a way to wear the kids out and settle them down to go to bed.
• Bowling – We got some plastic cups and set them up like bowling pins and a ball. Depending on how many you knocked down, decided how many pieces of candy you got.
• What is that? – I gathered several things from around the house like a tube of toothpaste, a pair of socks folded into a ball, a wooden spoon, etc. I put them I a box and covered them with a blanket. The kids reached in the box and without looking had to say what it was. This is fun especially if you have small toys and squishy things.
• Long Jump – This was a standing long jump. We used tape to mark several distances. If they jumped on or below the first tape, the child got one piece of candy. If the child jumped between the second and first tape, they got two pieces of candy. If the child jumped between the third and second tape, they got three pieces of candy. You get the idea.
• Penny Walk – This is an old party game. Line up jars, cups or bowls at one end of the room. Then you have one child per jar line up across from their jar on the other end of the room. Place a penny between each child’s knees. They must walk with the penny between the knees across the room and deposit the penny in the jar. You can do it with just one jar and take turns. Everybody who gets the penny in the jar gets candy.
• Relay Treats – I got this one from a school holiday party. You need two bowls, a big spoon and candy like M&M’s or Skittles or Sweet Tarts. Pour the candy into one bowl and set at one end of the room. Set up an empty bowl at the other end of the room. Have the child use the big spoon to scoop up as much candy as they can, walk across the room and then put the candy in the empty bowl. Whatever candy makes it into the bowl, the child gets to keep. To make it more challenging, place a smaller cup in the empty bowl. Whatever makes it into the cup is the prize.
• Obstacle Course – Everybody gets candy for participating. Devise your own obstacle course. Time the kids as they go through it to make it a little competitive. Your course could include crawling through a tunnel (under a table or through a series of adult legs, lots of fun when the tunnel tickles), over the hill (a chair), around the mountain (a chair or kitchen island), into a cave (a table with a long cloth), along a ravine (walk a straight line: tape or 2x4 piece of wood or broom), and out of the forest (coats, through a coat closet or create a coat rack with a broom (one adult holds one end and another adult holds the other and the coats are hung on the broom)).
• Hot and Cold / Treasure Hunt – hide a special prize. The simple version the kids walk around and you simply say if they are hot or cold / close or far from the treasure. A more complicated version is the treasure hunt where you give cryptic clues where the treasure is buried. Clues can include “Cute and fuzzy, Beware of the Wild Animals” (a bunch of stuffed animals). “A reflection of me won’t appear before you” (a mirror)
  

Halloween is not really a holiday for me and my family, but the Fall Festival sure has a lot of family fun to offer.

Halloween vs. Fall Festival

As a Mom, I have a problem with Halloween. Regardless of its origins as a celebration to mark the passing of summer and the beginning of winter, regardless of its connections with honoring the dead, today’s version is far from a simple celebration or commemorative event. Too much of today’s Halloween is about blood and guts, devils and evils, and scaring the pants off people.

So what is a Mom to do? I tell my kids we do not celebrate Halloween. We celebrate the Fall Festival. We give thanks for the bounty God has provided and celebrate by sharing the booty (candy). Here are some ways we celebrate:

• Costumes - I allow my kids to dress up, but it can’t be scary. With boys, that is a tough order, so we try to stick to cartoon characters, super heroes and vehicles (trains, cars, etc.).
• Candy – We do not go trick or treating, but we do attend a church Fall Festival. Personally, I really like this option: less fear about what is in the candy, not as much candy, but enough candy to bring smiles to little faces.
• Pumpkins – We enjoy the pumpkin patch experience. If we have time, we will drive out to a pumpkin patch and enjoy a day in the country.
  
  Decorating our pumpkins - When my kids were young, I gave them a bunch of markers and let them decorate to their hearts content. Now that they are getting older, I do allow them to carve the pumpkin but again nothing scary. Two (three and four) faced pumpkins are fun. Geometric designs make interesting shadows.
  
  Pumpkin Story – I have read and heard several versions of how to incorporate the carving of the pumpkin with the Christian faith. My favorite children’s book is The Pumpkin Gospel by Mary Manz Simon. The copy we have glows in the dark so fun for all. Anyway, the basic Pumpkin Story is accepting Christ into your heart is like carving a pumpkin. Before Christ, you are full of all sorts of yucky stuff (sin). When you accept Christ, he opens you up and cleans all that yuck out (forgiveness). When the joy of Christ fills you, a smile appears bright on your face (decorative carvings). With Christ in your heart, his love will shine (candle) through you.
• Decorations – I like to decorate for holidays so this is for me. I stay away from scary. I also stay away from happy witches, ghosts, goblins and any other superstitious figures. I do collect scarecrows and happy pumpkins. I like to use colorful fall leaves. If I wasn’t allergic to candles, I would probably enjoy setting out decorative candles in orange, rust and yellow.
• Craft – This is a take off of the gingerbread house. I cover a cookies sheet or piece of cardboard with foil. I gather graham crackers, icing, candy corn, candy pumpkins and other fall candies and sprinkles. My kids and I then create our own Fall Scene with barn, crops, fences and whatever seems like fun at the time. (The icing is the glue that holds the graham cracker buildings and fences together.) This craft is fun to create and fun to eat J
• Party – Fall Festivals are lots of fun and usually free. Some have an entrance fee and most usually have a snack stand to help raise funds so take a little cash. Fall Festivals usually have areas for photo opportunities, games, rides and candy. Fall Festivals allow your kids to wear their costumes, have fun and if you go to one at a church, learn a little about faith, family and fellowship.

Stupid Question #6

“Babysitting?” another parent at the park asked me (Caucasian Mom) while watching my African American son slide down the slide. “No,” was my simple answer. The parent squirmed with curiosity and then began the full series of stupid questions.

“Is he real?” I answered, “Yes.”
“Is he yours?” I answered, “Yes.”
“Is he a mix?” I answered, “No.”
“You are African American?” I answered, “No.”
“Where did you get him?” I answered, “The hospital.”

I guess I have a mean streak. I truly enjoyed watching this poor parent try and figure it all out. She got real close to my face and inspected it closely to see if I was African American. I didn’t know her, and she didn’t know us. I just didn’t see why it should matter. He was my son and that was that.

When you adopt a child of another race or color, be prepared for the stupid questions. Times have changed and there are a lot more interracial, transracial and other racial families out there. I always enjoy seeing one. I know and they know that they are asked about their family everywhere they go. I and they want to respect mine and their privacy. Just about every family I have come across offers a simple smile with a nod of the head that says, “I know.”

So here I will end this series. I am sure there are many more stupid questions and some may be posted at a later date. But for now, this is the end. There really isn’t such a thing as a stupid question if you are sincere. If you are a prospective adoptive parent, head up! Transracial adoption can and does work. You will love your child as your own. You will come to a time where you do not see a child of color, but you will see your child.

Stupid Question #5

“Whose child is this?” was the question a nice man asked as he caught my son who was in full stride running outside a restaurant. It was a busy night and we had to wait. I was letting my kids run to the end of the sidewalk and back. The Nice Man thought he was helping by catching a running child. I approached and said, “He is mine.” The Nice Man did not look so nice anymore. He looked at me and said even louder, “Whose child is this?” Again, I told him, “He is mine.” The Man started to push my son behind him I suppose to protect the child from me. I gently smiled, looked at my son, and said, “Son, tell the Nice Man my name.” Of course, he yelled, “Mommy,” laughed and ran into my arms. The Nice Man looked us over pretty hard, but then I suppose he decided my son’s affection towards me was genuine and not induced.

When you adopt a child of another race or color, be prepared for the stupid questions. I can’t say this one was stupid. I can say that this post is more of a “be aware” post for prospective adoptive parents.

I actually get this often especially when I leave my son in childcare. If there is a new volunteer or paid worker who does not know us, they usually require an I.D. or some proof that he is my son. I don’t normally carry around our adoption papers. I usually have to wait until the person who checked us in can be located. I have never had anyone refuse to release my son to me. My son is very rambunctious and affectionate, and he is quite loud in his announcement that, “Mommy is here.” He helps a lot in putting childcare workers at ease that I am the Mommy.

Stupid Question #4

“Where did you get him?” was the question of another Mom at the park as we watched our children run up and down the slide. “The hospital,” was the only answer I could muster (though another blogger had a witty remark, “Wal-mart.”).

When you adopt a child of another race or color, be prepared for the stupid questions. The Mom at the park then clarified her question, “Where is he from?” I told her he was born right here in our city. “Oh, that’s nice,” was her condescending reply and with nose in the air, she walked away. So, am I supposed to be apologetic for adopting locally?

Sorry, my story does not include an interesting transatlantic voyage with cloak and dagger and an exciting exodus to freedom as we saved our son from the grips of death. Oh, I do have one excerpt that might be considered exciting. I use to walk with my son in a stroller at the same time on the same route everyday. We always ended at a park.

There came a time when I noticed a strange car on our route. The first day I saw it, I did not think anything of it. The second day, I wondered if it had broken down, but then on the third day I saw it at another spot on our route. Day four and five, I noticed the same car in different spots. I tried to shake it off as paranoia, but when I saw it at the park, all the hair on the back of my neck stood up.

I saw two heads in the car and started to turn the stroller around. My son then protested rather loudly. I stopped walking and tried to console him. As I talked to my son, I looked back at the car and the two heads. They were not looking at us. They seemed to be deep in conversation with each other. I must be paranoid, and I decided to go to the park.

My son jumped out of the stroller and ran laps around the park. I had almost forgotten the car and the two heads. I was pushing my son on the swing when one of the car doors opened and then was slammed shut. The two heads were arguing and one was trying to get out of the car. That was enough for me. Ignoring my son’s protests, I strapped him in the stroller. I could hear their argument now, “They are happy! Leave them alone!” I sprinted home.

I never saw the car or the two heads again. Of course, it took weeks for me to be comfortable walking outside with my son again. I now mix up our walks with bike rides at different times of day and we don’t take the same routes.
I struggled with whether I should report it or not. I struggled with even telling my husband. What would I report? Two heads that I cannot describe had an argument in a car that I cannot describe next to the park.

Maybe I am paranoid, but as a Mom, my greatest fear is the loss of either of my children. With my adopted son, fear of loss is a little more real. I don’t care where he came from; he is my son.

Stupid Question #3

“Are you going to tell him he is adopted?” Now here is where a little common sense would do the inquisitor some good. I am a fair skinned, light haired, green eyed Caucasian woman with a dark skinned, darker haired, browned eyed, African American son. Do I have to answer that question?

When you adopt a child of another race or color, be prepared for the stupid questions. I suspect my son is going to realize that something is different between him and us. Even as a toddler before he could speak, he would spend much time examining my hand and comparing it to his. Was he perplexed by the difference in color? Was he impressed by the difference in size? As an inquisitive toddler, I am sure it was a little of both.

Yes, I am going to tell my son he is adopted. I love the word “adopted” because of all the joy this adoption has brought to our family. I hate the word “adopted” because in our everyday, he is not my “adopted” son. He is my son who I dearly love.

Stupid Question #2

“Is he yours?” an inquisitive stranger asked pointing at the bundle of joy nestled in my arms. My baby grabbed their finger, so I asked, “Is he yours?” The stranger snatched their finger back with a look of surprise and then nervously laughed and hurried off.

When you adopt a child of another race or color, be prepared for the stupid questions. I, the Caucasian, White Non-Hispanic, Mom, am very aware of how “mine” my African American son is. Just like any other Mom, he is my pride and joy and sometimes embarrassment.

My son is now a pre-schooler and very inquisitive. He likes to test everything. He is very curious to see what things do. He eyeballs every object closely and explores with a lick for taste, lots of touching for feel, a sniff here and there for smell and a knock for sound which is usually more of a bang against another object to hear it good and loud.

Last week at our Children’s Church program I was volunteering in the worship center, busy with crowd control of a couple hundred wiggly, giggly school aged kids. I saw my son’s teacher coming towards me. I saw my son behind her eyeing something. As the teacher was making the pass of his color pages and him to me, my son broke loose and darted for the wall. Before I could grab him, he pushed the button which turned off all the lights in the worship center. Of course, these lights don’t just come back on when you flick the switch. They go off in a blink but back on takes some warming up time. As I tried to control my son, I turned around and saw all the people in the center looking at us. Yes, he is my son, and I still love him.

Stupid Question #1

“Is he real?” asked a passing stranger admiring my African American toddler. My Caucasian son answered that question eloquently, “Does a doll burp?” Then he mustered a burp that made the toddler laugh and burp. Then the two brothers proceeded to have a burping contest. I, the “white, Non-Hispanic” Mom, stirred things up a bit by producing my own, very large burp. I love having boys.

When you adopt a child of another race or color, be prepared for the stupid questions. Yes, this was a real question. We are real people. We are transracial which means some in our family are from one race and some are of another race, in our case: Caucasian and African American.

My son is very real to me. Right now he is sick and my heart beats strongly for him. It appears to be just a cold, but he is a thin, little guy and to hear the rattle in his chest and the stuffiness in his nose just hurts me. I am caring for him like any mother cares for her son with medicine, hot soup, steam baths and lots of hugs. I am not sleeping at the moment since with every cough he makes throughout the night, I am up checking on him.

My son is very real to me. I don’t see an adopted, African American child. I see my son, and he needs me.

Stupid Questions

When you adopt a child of another race and/or color, be prepared for the stupid questions. Just so you know, I am a light skinned, green eyed, woman. My light skinned, green eyed husband and I have two sons: a biological, blond haired, blue eyed son and an adopted, dark skin, brown eyed son. The politically correct term for our family is transracial.

For the first stupid question, “Are you African American?” If you could see me, you would find that question quite humorous. I am from Scotch/Irish decent. I am pretty darn white with freckles. I can only guess it is the freckles that give the question some credence.

Thus begins a series, I like to call “Stupid Questions.” Now the Mom and Teacher in me says, “The only stupid question is the one that was never asked.” So when people ask me these stupid questions, I take a deep breath and try to politely answer.

Here is a tip for people on the outside looking into a transracial family. COMMON SENSE and don’t forget, PRIVACY. You don’t need to know all my business or the history of my child, and if you are a total stranger, I am not going to tell you. I am not trying to be rude. It is just none of your business.

If you continue to read this blog, you will learn quite a bit about us. Mostly I am doing this as an educational tool. I get asked a lot of questions, and I appreciate people with a genuine interest. I appreciate people considering the same path who want to hear from someone who has been there, done that. I do not appreciate people who see us as a curiosity or feed for some gossip.

Just like anything else, once you get into it, your eyes open and you see how common you are. We may seem odd to you, but to us and the numerous other families like us. We are one of many.

Budget, Plan and Have Fun

Fun with kids in public places like parks, zoos, museums or other entertainment or amusement place can be a memory you will never forget for one of two reasons. Everybody had a fantastic time, or something, or someone, went terribly awry; and oh my gosh, you/they will never live it down.
Whether your disaster had to do with money or people, a little planning may have averted the trouble. Here are a couple of tips to help you prepare.

• Use the interent – The internet is a great place for ideas. Once you have decided to go to a certain place, you can usually find a website for the location you are going to visit. Visit the website and budget your time, your costs and your mileage (see below for more information.)
• Budget – This relieves a lot of stress. Budgeting your expenses and your time will help you to communicate with all adults and children participating. You don’t have to be extremely detailed. If everybody has a general idea of expectations, kids won’t whine so much about being bored and adults won’t whine so much about being ready to go. It also helps elevate some of the tension when the, “I wants,” creep up. Here is the budget. If you want that, you have to sacrifice this. Don’t forget flexibility. Fun with kids does not always go as planned and flexibility is the key for both kids and adults to have fun.
• Budget Your Time – If you have small children, you need to consider naps, potty breaks and feeding schedules. Visit the website of the location and get a list of activities. Review the list and create a rough agenda of things you want to do. This is to be rough. Again, fun with kids does not always go as planned and flexibility is the key for both kids and adults to have fun. With an agenda it will help you to be flexible so you can adjust for non-optional events like naps and feedings while having a list in mind of what you can move around to accommodate your child’s, or spouse’s, needs and wants.
• Budget Gas Money – There are several places on the internet that allow you to map directions from your home to your destination. (Yahoo Maps is just one. http://maps.yahoo.com/) This is a great tool not only for directions but for budgeting how much money you will spend on gas. I use a simple formula which is miles round trip from home to destination divided by my vehicle’s average miles per gallon times the average price per gallon of gas. For example, to drive from Houston to Austin round trip is roughly 330 miles round trip (does not include driving around Austin). The formula looks like (330/15)*3 = $66 dollars for gas. The 330 is the miles round trip. The 15 is the average miles per gallon my car gets, and the 3 is the average price of gas per gallon. So 330 miles, should only consume 22 gallons at 15 miles per gallon (does not account for speeding, traffic or detours). Twenty two gallons time three is $66.
• Take a Cooler - Regardless of where our field trips take us whether it is an hours drive or just 5 minutes, I always pack a small cooler. I always pack at least one drink and one snack for everybody going. This really helps the budget by preventing temptation to buy at snack stands or road side stops. It also helps prevent temptation of buying dessert if you know you have a tastey treat waiting for you in the car. If it is a long trip, I pack two; one for bored kids asking, “are we there yet?” on the way there and one for worn out kids on the way home.
• Reward Grab Bag – This is my way of keeping my kids from asking, “are we there yet?” I usually don’t take the Grab Bag unless the trip is a couple of hours or more. Basically, when the noise level in the car has gone beyond my patience, I announce quiet time. If you are quiet for 15 minutes, you get to grab from the bag. If my children are being troublesome on one hour trips, I may take the bag and say they have to be good for the entire drive time. The grab bag is not hard to fill. I fill it with little toys, small crafts like paper airplanes, crayons, color pages, stickers, puzzles and books from dollar stores. Wal-mart has a cheap toy isle where you can usually find stuff for less than a dollar, and Target has a dollar section that has seasonal fun stuff. Some of the toys are toys we have collected from kids meals. They are unopened kids meal toys. Some went to the grab bag because my kids did not eat/behave well and lost their toy privilege. Some went to the grab bag because the meal was eaten somewhere the kids forgot about the toy as they ran off to play (picnics at the park). Regardless, it is a cheap way to reward your kids for good behavior.

Adoption Resources

Adoption, the word invokes so much emotion: joy and tears, love and fear. Adoption, the word holds so much meaning for children, for parents and for the extended family and friends. Adoption is such a simple word for such a complex concept and process.

As an adoptive parent, I highly recommend adoption, but I do not recommend fostering or adopting on a whim or as an act to fulfill some Christian or civic duty. Fostering can be a very long term commitment and adoption is for life. I have a biological child, and I have an adopted child. I can safely say, "You will love both just as if they were both flesh of your flesh." But you will face many challenges, so be committed and work on growing some thick skin.

Off the soap box and away from sentiments, adoption is a simple word for a complex process. There are several types of adoption: private, agency, foster to adopt, domestic and international.
For whatever reason you have for deciding to adopt, once you have made the decision, you will need to evaluate your financial and emotional resources. You will need a support network as you go through this process. The money part of adoption disgusts me and infuriates me, but I don't have an alternative solution. There are a lot of people involved in adoption and somehow everybody needs some compensation for their skill and time and moneys need to be made available to care for your adopted child and children still waiting adoption.

So first things first,

• Private adoption is a direct adoption between a biological parent and a adoptive parent. Most of the time these adoptions are between family and friends. A biological parent has died or suffered some extreme trauma and the child is placed with family or a very dear friend.
• Agency adoption is the utilization of an agency to facilitate placement of a child and finalization which is legally binding the child to the adoptive parent(s). Agencies offer a number of adoptive programs including Private and "Foster to Adopt".
• Foster to Adopt can be accomplished working directly with the State (I don't recommend it. An agency can really help you traverse the legal swells of paper and training and yadda yadda yadda.) Foster to Adopt is just what it sounds like: fostering a child until they are available for adoption and then adopting them. If you have limited resources, this is a great option. As a certified Foster family, you will receive compensation from the State monthly to help pay for the child's food, clothes and other care needs. You won't get rich this way, so don't do it for the money, but if you want to adopt and cannot afford the $15,000 plus dollars private and international adoptions can cost, this is a great option.
• Domestic Adoption is a child born within your own country. They could be in your own home town or from another town or from another state. If you cross State lines to adopt a child, you will need to consult adoption procedures in both states.
• International Adoption is an adoption of a child from another country. This can be a very pricey, but very rewarding and exciting adoption. When planning your expenses, you will need to evaluate the agency costs, travel costs, foreign country fees for adoption and legal fees to finalize the adoption within the United States. There are too many different rules and regulations to say what you will face. Each country has their own rules for how old a child has to be to be available for adoption or how long you must be in the country for "culture" training and legal processes.

You have decided to adopt and you have decided on the type of adoption that best fits you. Here are some resources to get the ball rolling:

• Favorite Site: Shaohannah’s Hope. In addition to great information about adoption that is easy to read and easy to find, they also offer financial advice. http://members.shaohannahshope.org/site/PageServer
• http://www.adoption.com/ - Adoption in Texas
• http://www.adoptation.org/ - Adoption in Houston, Texas

Family by Choice

My husband and I had been married 3 years when we welcomed our first bundle of joy into our family. We could not have been more proud or happy with our 11 pound, 12 ounce, baby boy. The road to this point had a few bumps and turns. Two doctors had told me that I probably could not have children. One doctor said, "Let's try first and then we will look at options." I liked that. A year and some later of "trying" and the doctor beginning to discuss alternatives said, "Ooops, you are pregnant." What joy and exhilaration!

Six months after the birth of our pride and joy, my husband was diagnosed with an advanced and aggressive cancer. Our faith gave us the peace that goes beyond any understanding. I knew my husband was going to be ok, but when the doctor told us that after the surgery my husband was no longer going to be able to have children, you could have knocked me over with a feather.
The question became, "what makes a family?' We knew single people who were perfectly happy living alone with no children. We knew couples who were perfectly happy with one precious child. We knew families who were perfectly happy with two, four and six kids sharing laughs and hugs. We were perfectly happy with our one beautiful boy, but still there seemed to be something missing. After my husband completed all his surgeries and treatments, we really talked a lot about our family and made a choice. We wanted more children.

We tried fertility treatments. This is not something done lightly. It is a commitment to schedules and medications. Giving myself shots was hard. The disappointment each time a treatment did not end in a pregnancy was hard. When we had a consultation and looked hard at the expense and the odds, it was devastating. I couldn't justify the expense for the small odds. I began to mourn. I mourned the loss of a child that would never be born.

Family by choice became a critical mantra to keep me sane, to keep my marriage together and to keep me from smothering our one son. More than one friend said, "You can have kids. Leave your husband and start over." There are no guarantees in life and oh my gosh, how shallow is my marriage if I can leave him like this. No, I loved my husband and his ability or inability to have children had nothing to do with it. If he can't have children, then neither can I.

Family by choice kept my spirits up as I decided to research adoption. The expense of adoption truly turned me off. My husband and I had decided that a child was a child no matter his or her color and looked at domestic and international adoptions. I was absolutely offended when one agency told me if I wanted a white/Caucasian child it would cost $15,000 plus, but if I wanted a discount, I should consider a black/African American child. They could get me an African American child for less than $10,000. Brokering children, putting value on a child based on their color was disgusting. I wanted to take as many African American children I could, except one I didn't have that kind of money and two I didn't want that agency to get any of my money.

My heart ached but I decided it was time to accept that we were to have only one child. As I sat at McDonald's watching my toddler play, I also noticed a Mom with three small children joyfully struggling to get all her wiggle worms fed. When her crew was freed to go play, she turned and asked me if I liked her children. I was apologetic. I didn't mean to stare. She then went into how she adopted one and then another. She told me how the State would pay you to "Foster to Adopt."

Foster to Adopt is the quintessential example of Family by Choice. We got registered, certified and brought our home up to code to Foster to Adopt. Through the assistance of an adoption agency, we were presented to the State as a good Foster home for a child most likely to be available for adoption in the near future. After 6 months to get certified, after another 6 months of waiting, we got a call and were given one hour to decide to go to the hospital regarding a new born. We were told we needed to go down there for an interview. We had been through this before. The state interviews several families to determine the best fit for a child. When I walked into the hospital and the nurse said, "You must be the Mom. Do you want to hold your baby?" I burst into tears. He was so small, so perfect.

We did have an interview but it was quite different from what we expected. Basically, we got the horror story. The tragedy the mother had endured. The tragedy the father was in. The tragedy this child had survived. There were health issues and concern that the child would not come up for adoption. We made a choice. We took that child home. Six months later he was available for adoption. Another eight months later we had a court date to finalize the adoption.

We are officially called a "transracial" family. Mom and Dad are Caucasian. Big brother is a biological child and Caucasian. Little brother is adopted and African American. All together, we are a family by choice. We love, laugh and cry just like any other family. We just do it by choice.