Every family before us wanted four-year-old Josie—until they learned adopting her meant taking her 16-year-old brother too. We said yes to both. A month later, their former foster mother called and asked one question that changed everything: “They still haven’t told you why they picked you?”
My husband and I spent five years trying to have a child before we finally gave up on falling pregnant.
It wasn’t that we wanted a family any less.
We were simply tired of doctor visits, tests, medications, and disappointment.
One night, after another failed appointment, Daniel sat beside me on our kitchen floor while I cried.
We finally gave up on falling pregnant.
“We still have room,” he said quietly. “We could adopt.”
***
Eight months later, we met Josie.
She was four years old, with brown curls, enormous dark eyes, and a smile that appeared slowly, like she wasn’t sure whether she was allowed to use it yet.
She was sitting at a small table in the agency’s family room, coloring a purple dog.
Eight months later, we met Josie.
“That’s a nice dog,” Daniel told her.
“It’s a wolf.”
“Then that’s an excellent wolf.”
She studied him for about three seconds before laughing.
I loved her immediately.
She studied him for about three seconds before laughing.
I know you’re not supposed to say things like that. We had been warned not to arrive expecting some magical instant bond.
But I looked at Josie and felt something inside me shift.
Then our caseworker, Rebecca, asked if Daniel and I could speak privately.
There was something we needed to understand.
I know you’re not supposed to say things like that.
Josie had an older brother.
Jace was sixteen.
“They’re a sibling group,” Rebecca explained. “They need to be placed together.”
Daniel glanced at me.
I asked, “Where is he?”
“Down the hall.”
“They need to be placed together.”
I frowned. “Why wasn’t he in the meeting?”
Rebecca hesitated.
That hesitation told me more than her answer did.
“A number of families have expressed interest in Josie,” she said. “When they’ve learned Jace is part of the placement, they’ve reconsidered.”
I felt embarrassed on behalf of people I had never met.
“Why wasn’t he in the meeting?”
“Because he’s sixteen?”
“Teen placements are harder.”
Daniel crossed his arms. “Does he have behavioral problems?”
“No more than I would expect from a teenager who’s been through significant instability.”
It was a careful answer.
“Does he have behavioral problems?”
Rebecca folded her hands.
“Jace knows why previous families changed their minds.”
“And he expects us to change ours too?” I asked.
Rebecca didn’t answer right away.
“I think Jace expects adults to prove what they mean.”
“And he expects us to change ours too?”
That sentence stayed with me.
