The adoption process doesn't come without its costs.
We've already been doling out the worry and the stress as even just the first few forms have to be tracked down. Needing the cooperation of agencies that we no longer deal with, and haven't for many months, to do work that isn't a normal task for them, nor something that is a requirement in their job descriptions has quickly welcomed us into some of the "costs" attached with this process.
Jenny has paid those primary costs (she's been great with the paperwork thus far) while I've just been informed of them, and stressed by them in kind.
The "cost" of vulnerability has been apparent as well. This process, each of our decisions, and when and how to share it have come with their own sets of sacrifice. It hasn't always been comfortable or easy, but bringing others along in the process is a valuable part of the journey to us...but it costs something. Much like "naturally" pregnant women must feel judged by people who are just watching their actions and commenting on even miniscule tasks and decisions, we have to navigate the comments of others to find their helpful purpose and not just what we initially perceive from people's "feedback."
And least surprising, but quite the mountain to overcome, is the financial cost. In the most blunt way it can be stated...Adoption is NOT cheap! Now to be sure, there are various different ways that the financial cost gets accounted for by different couples (grants, government rebates, fundraising, differing costs by programs) but no adoption is cheap. Someone pays a substantial financial cost.
We feel the burden to do the same. The burden of figuring out where approximately $35,000 dollars will come from has fallen to us. We've got some ideas, have started some research, and have even had people tell us they want to bear some of that burden for us, all of which is encouraging. And trust us, we'll have multiple ways with which to invite you (and/or for you to invite those you know) to help us with this burden as well.
I want to tell you one of those ways now. It's the beginning of an invitation.
I feel an immense peace with the financial burden of this adoption. I'm fortunate to have that peace and don't take it lightly. But I feel the need to balance that peace with a very real cost burden, and have figured out one way to do that.
I'm taking on a second job. I don't know exactly who is employing me yet, though I'm hoping it will be many of you. On my end of the contract, I'm committing to work. Specifically to work on an assigned project.
I'm going to write a book.
It feels nerve-wracking to see that sentence written. But it is my new job. Over the next months I'll spend many of my hours writing something I believe to be of value. And hope someone will buy it. I don't know exactly what that means yet, but am sure as I research self-publishing and e-publishing and all that I'll be able to figure out a way to make money (hopefully) by convincing (or arm twisting) many of you into buying copies of my book.
This is one of the ways I can think of to putting in work on our end, taking the burden seriously, and also inviting many of you to carry it with us.
I'm committed to it. This process will come with a cost, but that cost will be worth it.
