Something Extraordinary

Wednesday, April 20, 2011
We're thinking of adopting an older child. There it is in black and white. I said it. It's crazy right? 'The Times' (an English newspaper) is running a campaign to try to increase the number of adoptions to older children. Right now in the UK, there are approximately only 3000 children who are taken out of the system through adoption each year. 1 in 100 are over 5. I can cry writing that. I've seen documentaries on the subject which have never left me. One such documentary that featured a little red-headed boy that broke my heart. He had too many foster parents in his young life and they said his chances of ever finding a family were minimal. I was pregnant at the time. I wanted to save him, but what could I do? I'm sure there are a lot of people that thought the same thing. The thing is that we CAN do something and maybe we should be the sort of people who actually do.
My husband (the amazing man he is) has always said he'd like to do something like that. It was me who dismissed it, but the other night when the campaign was being discussed on the TV news and they spoke of the awful statistics, I turned to my husband, looking for a reaction. We just looked at each other and said how awful it was.
The next day, it was in the paper again. That night I cried after putting Ethan to bed. Every night he gets a story curled up next to mommy in bed (after a playful giggle filled bath time with Daddy). He is the happiest, most well adjusted child who has the most wonderful bond with his parents. That night, I just thought how many children don't have that? Who will never have that?
I haven't been able to get it out of my mind. Maybe it's time I do something extraordinary. Maybe this is the sort of thing I was meant to do with my life. I'm always beating myself up over my big heart. I can't say how many people there have been in my life that have loved me and hated me for my over-sized heart (it's always gotten me in hurt). It's frustrated every man I have ever been with. And then there's my mother who always called me 'the bleeding heart' (and not in a good way). Maybe this is the sort of thing bleeding hearts do - save a child.
I think I'm more in love with my husband today than I was yesterday just because he wants to do it to. We put an application of interest in last night. It's a long and drawn out process. Until we know for sure, I'm not telling my family. I'm sure they'll call me crazy and tell me all the reasons it's an awful idea. Although, that will probably make me want to do it more.

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