Chapter 12 #2
“So there’s adoption like James and James, and although you say you weren’t paying attention, you have seen roughly what that looks like.”
“You mean, kind of like a wet goblin?”
“The process, Lucien. There’s a lot of paperwork and it takes a long time, and my understanding is that while adoption rates are down, the greatest need isn’t for people who want a new baby; it’s for people who are willing to take a child over the age of three.”
“Would that be so bad?”
“Not necessarily. Although by that stage a child’s personality is taking a more concrete shape, and any trauma they’ve experienced is much more likely to cause significant problems.”
I pressed a hand to my heart. “Wow, what a beautiful experience this is going to be for us.”
“I know you’re being sarcastic, but it’s incredibly important to have realistic expectations. After all, it’s not just our life it’s about.”
“God, the James Royce-Royces made it seem so easy.”
He cast me a sharp look. “You really weren’t paying attention, were you? It took them years and quite a lot of money.”
“So”—I winced—“option two, then?”
“There’s surrogacy.”
“Like ask Bridge?”
“No,” Oliver replied, “we definitely shouldn’t ask Bridget.”
“She’d probably say yes.”
“Which is why we shouldn’t ask her. Leaving aside that she only gave birth a couple of months ago, it would be extremely emotionally complicated, and could hurt all of us very badly. It’s not like asking Priya if we could borrow her truck.”
“Priya would never let us borrow her truck.”
“You’re right, that was a poor analogy. My point is, being a surrogate means doing something arduous and intimate for nine months and, at the end of it, giving away a baby to whom you may well have developed an emotional connection.
And, of course, for some people it’s the right choice, but it’s a very big choice and you need to be very careful who you ask to make it. ”
That was beyond fair. Because yes, Bridge was, you know, a human being with agency and a grown-ass woman who could make her own choices.
But when somebody would do literally anything for you, you had to be really careful with your anythings.
“When you put it like that,” I said, “it seems a weird thing to ask a stranger for as well.”
Oliver gave a tiny shrug. “That’s a little more complicated, and I try to avoid second-guessing the motivations of people I don’t know. But if the idea makes you uncomfortable, we probably shouldn’t pursue it.”
I felt almost as relieved as I had when we’d decided not to get married. “Okay, so what’s option three?”
From the look on Oliver’s face, I already knew the answer. “There is no option three.”
“So it’s a complicated, difficult adoption or nothing?”
From the very slightly different look on Oliver’s face, I knew there was something else. But I also knew it wasn’t necessarily the something else I was hoping for. “Now that you mention it…” he began.
“What?” It came out snappier than I meant, but this had been a frighteningly grown-up talk about some heavy topics, and I was starting to wish I could go back to making three-legged dog jokes again.
“Well, I think it might be worth pointing out that when you look into adoption, a lot of the institutions involved will provide information about adoption and fostering.”
I didn’t know what magic it was that let Oliver remind me how little I understood without making me feel like an ignorant prick. But he managed it. “I’m going to have to ask you what the difference is, aren’t I?”
“They overlap,” Oliver began, which was often his way of starting this kind of explanation, since it let me feel better about having got the overlapping things mixed up.
“Especially if you’re talking about older children.
But broadly the difference is that adoption is permanent, and the child legally becomes your child for all intents and purposes.
Fostering can be long term, but you’re only looking after the child, and legally speaking, your obligations to them end at the point they return to their family, turn eighteen, or get adopted by somebody else. ”
I could always tell when Oliver had been thinking about something, and he’d clearly been thinking about this. Even he wouldn’t have had that much information just off the top of his head. “I’m going to go out on a limb,” I said carefully, “and guess that you want us to foster.”
Oliver gave a surprisingly hesitant nod. “I know it’s not what people first think of when they think about…”
“Kids?” I suggested.
“Exactly. But there is an unequivocal need for foster families. It’s a very overlooked part of the system. Because of, well, because of how people who want to expand their family by nontraditional routes tend to be looking for babies rather than older children or teenagers.”
This was shaping up to be the most Oliver thing ever.
At least, I hoped it was shaping up to be the most Oliver thing ever because the alternative was that Oliver thought that it was the most Luc thing ever, and that might have gone to some awkward places.
“Just to check, you want to do this because, like, ethics and shit. Not because you think having a kid we get to give back at some point will be safer with my commitment issues?”
“Absolutely not.” Oliver sounded reassuringly firm. “I’d like to do this, but it won’t be a trial run or a soft option. It’ll be hard, but I think it’ll also be rewarding.”
It was a beautiful day and I was in a beautiful park with my amazing boyfriend and my adorable dog, and so I allowed myself, in this highly specific and controlled environment, to be performatively crap. Just for a moment. “You know I hate hard-but-rewarding.”
Oliver gave me a not-the-time look.
“Okay, okay, I’m probably fine with hard-but-rewarding, actually. But I have a relentlessly negative self-image to keep up, and you’re making it really difficult right now.”
To my relief, Oliver laughed at that. “Duly noted. Although for what it’s worth, I really think we’d be good foster parents. I think it’s the right step for us.”
I’d not looked into things the way Oliver had looked into things. I’d not read the books or watched the videos or done the courses. But I trusted him. And I loved him. And I wanted this. “Yeah,” I said. “Yeah, I think so too.”