Moving Day

This day was always the intended ‘goal’ for theonehandman; the day we become full time parents.

It is in many ways the end of a journey, but also the beginning of another. Instead of dreaming; wanting to be parents, we have reached the opportunity to be them, it is now up to us to grab it with both hands.

Any talk of what-ifs has gone, and we see the end of the process of trying.

Now is for doing.

The day began with both of us getting up from a restless night, showering and dressing as normal, a strange feeling came over us when we left the house.

It would be the last time we left the house as a couple, and the end of our home as being child-free. The excitement was obvious, but it was stifled with emotion.

I was conflicted with what felt like a thousand emotions, happiness and relief for us, sadness for the foster carer, and mixed emotions for our son.

We knew in time, this would be his best chance in life, but for now, it was just another move, one more time being uprooted, and an end to everything he currently held dear.

We were also anxious, and dare I say scared. We knew we could be decent enough parents, we just weren’t sure if we would be. Our son deserved a change in fortunes; the responsibility was on us to ensure he received it. With the safety net of the foster carer now being removed, I felt like we were being taken to 20,000 feet for a parachute jump, and the plane doors had suddenly been opened.

My God, we were high up.

The journey to the foster carer was now very familiar, and we arrived bang on time, but unlike the previous two weeks, there would be no pleasantries, or no cups of coffee. This visit was clinical.

Get in, get the boy, get out.

Dragging out the scene would do no good to anyone. The foster carer was relinquishing care of a very special little boy, and we had no business rubbing it in her face, in time we will keep contact with her, but right now, we had to keep the emotions away, and simply do what we were there to do.

It sounds almost heartless, but this part of the journey is hard on many people, it needs to be done, but just done quickly.

The journey home was pretty easy, with a few nursery rhymes, and a bit of babbling, we arrived home to start the rest of our lives.

Trying to be parents had ended. Being parents had begun.

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About the Author: Andrew McDougall

Andrew is an adoptive father, and stay at home dad. Having adopted his son in January 2013, he is a new adoptive parent, but well versed in the adoption process. He is a married, coffee drinker, Xbox addict, and a graduate of Marketing. Andrew McDougall is an alias he uses to protect the identity of his adopted son.