He trips heading into the kitchen and knocks his forehead against the doorway. He topples while squatting to examine the grain of the hardwood floor. He tumbles headlong from the couch while practicing, for the 38th time, his dismount. All completely normal toddler mishaps. Yet as I watch the latest knot form on his forehead, a matching knot forms in my stomach.
“No falling until Saturday,” I’ve been telling Miles, trailing fretfully after him. “Remember, we currently have a no-falling policy. So try taking fewer risks this week, please.”
I’m not normally so hovery and intense. Falling is part of walking, after all. But tomorrow, a woman from the court — a probation officer, actually — is coming for a home visit. This is a routine part of the process of Robin adopting Miles.
Robin, what?!? Adopting, huh?! It seems weird, I know, because she is indisputably his mom, but Robin has to formally adopt Miles in order to be his parent in the eyes of the state of New York. We’ve known this for a long time, and we’ve mostly just gritted our teeth and accepted it. We want to have as many legal protections as a family as we can. In addition to being domestic partners in the city of New York (the state does not offer a domestic partnership), we have gone through all sorts of legal hoopla to have power of attorney, medical proxy, wills, and whatever else we could think of to approximate the many financial, property and inheritance rights of marriage.
Adoption is the final step in Robin’s legal relationship with Miles. And this home visit is the final step in the adoption. In a way, coming this far is a victory about which I should be happy and relieved. For most of the process, I’ve managed to stay matter-of-fact. Okay, yeah, it bugged me that we both had to submit personal letters of reference to the court. (Yes, both of us. Although I am biologically Miles’ mother, I had to ask three friends of mine to write letters stating that I am responsible, lovely and good with children.) And yeah, it was a pain that we both had to be examined by doctors to show that we are in good health. And get fingerprinted at a police station. And have Miles certified healthy. And submit copies of our driver’s licenses, multiple official copies of our birth certificates, copies of our social security cards, check stubs, tax information, letters of employment, and so on ad nauseum. It bothered me. I complained a little.
But this home visit is messing with my mind. All I know is that a probation officer is coming to our house tomorrow and that she will check for certain safety measures (window guards, smoke detectors, carbon monoxide detectors and a fire extinguisher) and ask us for more paperwork. And that she has the power to say that we do or do not have a suitable home. That’s all I know.
Will she be charming, reassuring and perfunctory? Like, “Oh gosh, I can tell you guys are nice folks, enjoy your baby.” Or will she be rigid and businesslike? Like, “I see here that your smoke detector has a flashing red light rather than a steady red light. Adoption denied.” Or will she be suspicious and nosy? Like, “Where did he get those bruises on his forehead? And by the way, can I see the inside of your microwave?”
All this week, my imagination has run wild with unlikely scenarios. I’ve pictured her weighing him and looking in our cupboards to see what we feed him. (“He’s a bit slim,” she might say, pursing her lips.) Watching us diaper him to make sure we’re doing it right. (“Do you always use only two wipes? Interesting.”) Or examining him all over for bruises or marks. Quizzing us on his sleep habits. Finding fault with our drafty windows. Telling us our that, dear God, our Christmas tree is a hazard and why didn’t we know that? What are we, idiots? Why did they let us have this baby anyway??
I know I’m insane. But it’s hard, not knowing exactly what she’ll be checking for. It’s like trying to prepare for a test that could possibly be about all of Russian history — or might focus minutely on 18th century Russian hats. And if you fail the test, you get to keep being Not A Real Family. So I’m rushing around cleaning, yanking Miles down from high places, begging the landlady to please please install window guards on the two windows that don’t have them, and casting a suspicious eye at our carbon monoxide detector. Is it adequate? Is it correctly placed? Should we install five more?
Meanwhile, under the panic is a growing fury. All this because we can’t get married. I understand that the rigmarole surrounding adoptions is meant to ensure that children are going to good, safe homes. Through most of this madness, I have kept my mind on that. But this week, I’m grappling with the reality of a mysterious authority figure coming into our home and judging us. It’s making me very, very angry.
Why are we going through this and spending tons of money on, frankly, a pretty crappy lawyer? Why has Miles spent the first year-plus of his life with only one legal parent despite the fact that he lives with two parents? Why was Robin unable to sign any of the consent forms when Miles had minor surgery a few months ago? Why? Because we can’t get married. And why can’t we get married? Because people are bigoted, afraid, judgmental, traditional, grossed out and narrow-minded.
But you can get married! , I can hear some people thinking. You can get married in Connecticut! Or Canada! Isn’t that lovely? Yes, it’s very sweet and cute that we can get married in five states; Washington, D.C.; and ten countries. Each time another state or country legalizes gay marriage, I cheer. Maybe if we hadn’t already had TWO weddings (long story), we would have enjoyed the sweetness and cuteness of another. And if getting legally married somewhere would make Robin’s parenthood clearly legally defined in all places, we’d do that for sure.
But in fact, getting married in Canada or Spain or Iowa would not help us avoid the need to adopt because it would not necessarily make Robin Miles’ legal parent in New York. (State agencies would recognize our marriage, but private companies would not have to. So, for example, Robin’s health insurer through work might not have to recognize Miles as her child.) And of course, perhaps even more important, it would not result in legal recognition of our family unit from the federal government.
The legal issues are like a bizarre word problem in math class.** If two American lesbians who are residents of New York City get married in Sweden and one of them has a baby and then they move to California, what are their rights? Are they married or unmarried, and whose baby is it anyway? Absurdly, if we got legally married, we would be in the odd position of being married (and Robin a parent) in some places but not in others. Robin’s motherhood might be recognized in New Hampshire but debated in Arizona. On a cross-country drive, we could be married and unmarried half a dozen times!
Is it absurd that Robin has to apply to be a parent to her own child? Yes. Is it invasive that someone is going to scrutinize our home and our lives? Of course. Yet we want Miles to have the security of having a legal tie to both of us. So tomorrow I will grit my teeth, answer the door and smile. I will hand over my tax information for 2009 and a photocopy of my driver’s license ever so cheerfully. Until then I reserve the right to be annoyed, anxious and slightly bitter.
I think we need a party when this is over.
** Keep in mind that I am not a lawyer. Don’t rely on what I say here!
Yeah, I’m thinking a couple of stiff drinks, to wash down this bitter pill. I’m really sorry you have to go through this. I think it’s totally absurd, draconian, unbelievable as you know. And I can’t help but think – dude, I would TOTALLY FAIL such a home visit!
Hang in there guys, it’ll be over soon!
Oh my goodness. So many things that we take for granted. I am sickened that you have to go through all of this. Of course, whoever they send will not be able to help but adore you and your amazing family. Hugs to all of you.
It is just all so very wrong! I admit feeling very naive when you guys told us that Robin had to adopt Miles. I hope that it at least goes smoothly….or as smoothly as possible. The government should have to refund all of your legal expenses for the adoption once the laws are finally changed!
I am sorry. That’s all I can say, so so very sorry. What a mess, a nightmare, a joke. New parenthood is so difficult itself without this. GOOD LUCK on the visit. Miles is adorable and you are awesome moms.
This is so well written. I have tears reading that you have to go through this. It is not fair and you deserve to complain a LOT. Thinking of you both and hope the home visit is totally uneventful. I was thinking the whole time you should have a party when it is all done. Party here in SF next time you come! Hugs,
Jessica
You guys are great parents and even though I don’t know you except for your blog, I have enough evidence to be able to write you a letter in a heartbeat.
Good luck tomorrow (not that you need it)! Miles is such a lucky kid to have two great and devoted parents…the interviewer will see that right away and you’ll be “official.” I’ll be thinking of you guys tomorrow and can’t wait to celebrate with a playdate for our boys!
my heart goes out to you completely…if only every child could have parents half as loving and attentive as you guys, this world would be a much more beautiful place to live. i will be thinking of you tomorrow–sending lots of love and happy thoughts. i have no doubt she will see the beautiful family that you are…bumps or no bumps…
It is truly awful that things like this still exist in this day and age. Everybody already has enough on their plate without having to deal with things of this nature which i believe to be if nothing else.. Offensive. However you should just send them a link to your blog! then there would be no need for a house visit! If only it were that simple, good luck guys (not that you need it).
It broke my heart when Prop 8 passed out here in CA. “CA Marriage Protection Act”? Give me a break, it should be called the hurting families anti-equality act. I’m so sorry you’re having to go through this. I dream of a near future with equality for all. At least in CA there was a big age divide, so I hope it’s just a matter of time. As you astutely pointed out, that’s not much consolation right now. I hope tomorrow ends with a celebration because the State of NY deems you amazing parents (since you are!).
i love you all, miles especially! good luck today, and party when it’s done! call me!!!
We will be thinking of you today and hoping that this absurdity will end soon and happily. I get so infuriated. I’m told it’s a generational problem, and that when younger people grow up they will be astonished that we took so long to establish full civil rights for all. All it takes is knowing a queer person. Apparently. So all those people better GROW UP FAST. (Except not Miles because every day is special. Even when it’s smelly and messy).
Melissa and Robin,
Since I read your blog, Sorry. . ., I have been feeling an overwhelming urge to apologize to you both for the stupidity of other people. Somehow, I feel that my generation is largely to blame for this situation.
I will tell you that the two of you are wonderful parents and that you are raising Miles in the most loving of families. That’s not much comfort, since you know that, but I can’t think of anything else to say.
I hope the visit went well.
Cassandra
Thanks to everyone for the outpouring of support and empathy. It has meant a lot to us. Writing the post made me feel slightly better, and all the wonderful comments made me feel so, so, SO much better about it all. The crazy thing is that we are lucky to live in a state where Robin can adopt Miles at all! Many families do not even have the option!
The update on our home visit is somewhat comical. The night I wrote this post, Miles started vomiting when I put him in the bath tub. Within hours it was clear that he had a stomach virus and that we would have to reschedule the home visit. 😦
The day of reckoning comes near the end of this month. We’ll let you know how it goes.
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