By: Ted Peterson
Ian told me he loved me one night in December 2005, a couple months after we started dating. He was dropping me off at my apartment in West Hollywood, and he kissed me and said, “I love you.”
“Good night,” I smiled, and went inside.
Seconds later, I was on the phone, “I love you too!”
All our big moments have been like that, starting off little until it dawns just how consequential it was. The path that led to us becoming Mikey’s parents, for example. Each step along the way was a small one, not too scary, which led to the next obvious step, and so on, and so on.
We had talked in vague terms that neither of us was against starting a family, so when the time came for us to move in together, we picked a place with extra rooms on a quiet cul de sac. It was perfect for kids, if we decided to have one.
If.
We heard about the eight weeks of classes at Southern California Foster Family and Adoption Agency at about the time they were starting, fully intending to drop out if we decided it wasn’t for us. A lot of people did drop. Robyn Harrod and her group make sure that everyone knows that there’s no such thing as a child in foster care with a happy start in life. We heard about drug use, neglect, abuse, and all the ways the damage can manifest itself. Ian was adopted himself, and some of it was hard and some of it was therapeutic, and we kept on going. I began a blog about that time, 3 years ago, to describe the process.
More small steps. To be eligible to foster children, we had to complete a “home study”, where we took CPR and First Aid classes, were fingerprinted and background-checked, and had our house child-proofed from top to bottom. Once all that was done, it was still not scary. There was no child in our house. We had to get a phone call first, and we had to say yes. Life could go on as normal.
Then we got phone calls, and after we said no a couple times, we surprised ourselves by saying yes. He was a five-month-old baby boy, whose mother had driven him to L.A. from Nevada, and had a breakdown. At three o’clock in the afternoon, Ian got the call about him, and four hours later, he was asleep in our bed.
We didn’t have time to think about the hugeness of it all, because there was too much to do. In addition to all the parental nurturing responsibilities everyone has to do with a baby, there were the legal responsibilities which came down hard. We had to get him to a pediatrician who took Medi-Cal within 24 hours, but we weren’t given a Medi-Cal card. The judge had decided he was to have three-hour-long visits three times a week.
It was hard, and it was fun, for one whole month. The day we lost him, when we were told that the case was moving back to Nevada and we had to bring him to LAX and hand him to a social worker like he was a package: that was the worst day. I can still make myself cry thinking about it.
A short while later, we were home watching “House” and we got a phone call asking if we could take a one-year-old. Right now. We said, oh, okay, and fifteen minutes later, they were at our door with a toddler who was almost two years old.
With the baby, when we put him down someplace, he might roll a bit, but he’d stay. With a 21-month-old, he’d be out the door and down the street. With the baby, we just had to give him some milk and formula and work the burps out. With the 21-month-old, we learned that they not only know what candy is, but they don’t ask for it quietly. You spent your mornings at the park trying to exhaust him, and your evenings trying to calm him down.
It was intense and a fabulous learning experience. Two weeks later, we got the phone call that we would be losing him – he had 9 brothers and sisters, and the judge wanted him to be with one of them. That wasn’t such a bad day for two reasons: 1) we had been through it with the baby already, and 2) in the same breath, our social worker asked, “But I was wondering if you could take an emergency placement – a 20-month-old named Michael?”
Forty-eight hours later, Mikey came into our home, and he never left. Six months later, on National Adoption Day last year, we were the first in the docket at Edmund D. Edelman’s children court, and the adoption was official.
Even after that, there were more little steps. The first Christmas. The first day at preschool. This month, we had our first trip abroad on an eleven-hour trip to England for Ian’s sister’s wedding.
Thinking about raising a child is daunting. When Mikey says he wants a brother or sister, imagining that addition to our family and what it would mean is overwhelming. Frankly, toilet training is a lot to tackle.
The good thing is that to go with each of these little steps is a big reward. Like getting Mikey’s official birth certificate with Ian and me listed as Parent 1 and Parent 2.
I got Parent 1, by the way, which in parentheses is also known as “Mother”.
Am I ever.
Oh Ted, this made me cry–I was doing okay until I read you were number one on the judge’s docket, and it was so well earned!!
Ted, what a beautiful story, i don’t know how you lived with all those departures but this arrival is clearly the love of your life. Really enjoyed reading your story!
What a beautiful story!
Welcome Ted! Wow, what a journey….but what a beautiful reward indeed! Looking forward to reading more.
Lovely blog… I think the small steps that create the lifetime journey are essential. For most of us, if we thought too much about something, so many wonderful things would never get done.
Please don’t stress about Potty Training – that is something that is given far more attention than it should ever have. Frankly, other than the inconvenience of changing diapers, there is no reason to worry about exactly when a child is potty trained. I chose a preschool that did not charge extra for kids who still wore diapers (the director thought it wrong for potty training to be a financial decision. I completely agree.) People want to brag about early potty training? Go ahead. Have a ball. Don’t ever think it really has anything to do with you. Kids are potty trained when they damn well feel like it, and pretty much all of them manage it by kindergarden. My goal was to help it happen without giving my kids such a complex that they would spend their lives stressed out over simple bodily functions. My son took long enough that I got a few comments… I ignored all but the ones from his dad, who was the only one who had a right to comment. Our younger child saw her brother with no pull-up and said ‘Me too!’ Two years apart and potty trained at the same time. They are both great kids, just different personalities. For the record, Dad later said ‘I’m glad we didn’t push him, he’s doing great.’
As a witness to the events in this story, I can say it was even more beautiful in real life. I hope your story inspires and reassures others who are considering taking this step. Bravo, Ted and Ian.
And Mikey ended up with the perfect parents for him. Congrats.
Ted, you are such a great writer…straight from your heart! And I’m sure you parent the same way. Congrats to all three of you!
Hi Ted. Welcome aboard our family train. You were brave to go through the foster care system knowing these babies come and go but what a joy when Mikey got to stay. I can only imagine.
Great story, Ted. We have endured similar experiences, so it’s nice to share them with others. Welcome!
Great summary of a process that had so many emotional ups and downs. I am enriched by your stories of Mikey’s adventures. You are both terrific parents.
Thanks all, on the kind words for this “Getting To Know Me” initial post.
Although all the offers of food and visits are appreciated more than you know, during this overwhelming time what they really need is your prayers.