I was never the sort of girl that dreamed about her wedding day. I didn’t know what sort of dress I wanted, colors, flowers, or cake until the ring was on my finger and I started picking up wedding magazines at the grocery store. Nope, I always skipped over the wedding in my daydreams and went straight to the life beyond. The house was nothing short of Lucy Maud Montgomery’s legendary Green Gables, with perhaps a little less ocean and a few more mountains. There was always a smattering of animals, definitely a dog and a cat, maybe a horse and some chickens or ducks? There was a loyal, romantic, hard-working husband… always a faceless shadow in the daydreams, and there were children, two children. I’ve named these children hundreds of times in those daydreams. In high school their names were Brooke and Elliot, later their names evolved through stages of unique and contemporary to timeless and classic. I’ve looked up meanings and followed ancient legends and lore, determined to find names that my maybe someday children would be proud of and love.
With this latest someday idea of foster care adoption and all of the thoughts and concerns that come with it, I realized yesterday that I would be giving up that simple gift of bestowing a name on another human being. It seems like such a small thing but I’ve seen those bridezillas on T.V. that have been dreaming of their wedding dress since they were four years old and if they can lose their minds over a sweetheart neckline or a halter then I am justified in letting this worry at me a bit.
My husband and I are in a unique position, as far as we know, we are fertile. At that many people would say that we are crazy to be considering foster care adoption over having our own children. I think it makes it more excusable for many people… Well, they had to adopt since they can’t have children of their own. Not that I’m going to let other people make this decision for me, but we have two very different sides of the same coin here. Biological children or adoption? If the decision was between IVF or adoption then other cut and dry factors could be brought into play. Cost, emotional toll, health concerns, etc. Our options, as of right now, are wide open so something like naming my own children is a factor, as small as it may seem in the grande scheme of things.
I have been reaching out into the blogging world to hear the stories of others that have pursued adoption for various reasons. One blogger was building a list of reasons to adopt (I wish I had saved the link so I could give credit where credit is due but as I’m reading under the covers on my iPhone in the wee hours of the night I’m not always so organized with my thinking.) She wrote that she’s looking forward to not expecting her children to be like her but being able to help them discover who they are along with them. I love this! This should be written on the wall in any home with children, biological or not!
So what’s in a name? Is there a neatly planned garden in my future with plants sprouting up next to their meticulously labeled stakes or is it a field of wildflowers blooming unexpectedly in the sunshine? I never have been much of a gardener…