Tomorrow, after more than two years of life, my son will actually be MY son. Legally, that is. Micah has always been my son in every other way. I helped to conceive him, I felt him and listened to him in the womb, I cut the umbilical cord when he was born, and I’ve been with him every day – literally – of his life.
I’ve spoken to only a few people about the adoption but most of them seem much more excited about it than I am, or than TJ is, for that matter. Mostly, TJ and I feel resentful about having to spend $6000 to get the same legal rights that most any other parent has for free the moment their kid pops out. Of course, TJ and I still have no legally recognized relationship in this country, but Micah and I will be connected. He’ll be able to inherit anything I have, get any Social Security, retirement, and insurance in the event of my death. I’ll be able to register him for school and make medical decisions. But most importantly, if anything were to ever happen to TJ, no one will be able to threaten our relationship or living arrangement. My name, along with TJ’s of course, will be on his birth certificate.
So, tomorrow we stand in front of a judge that agrees with us in wanting to make sure that our son is protected. We have to travel three and a half hours away to ensure that we get this judge because our attorney knows that she’ll rule in our favor. And no matter how resentful I may feel about our having to jump through all of these hoops, even more than that, I am relieved and grateful that there are people like this judge and all of the folks at the Children’s Law Center and Roberta at the Adoption Option that spend their days, and nights and weekends too, working to ensure the security of families like mine.