Sweet Adoptions

    At the moment, we have six girls aged 12-23 in our house. These Lady Godivas bring lots of Almond Joy and Snickers. There are times when the Three Musketeers gang up on the other, but for the most part, life is a Milky Way with Mounds of fun once we get over that initial Krunch. Some folks think we are a bit Wonka, but we wouldn’t trade our Milk Duds for all the Millionaires on Mars. At night when the Kisses are handed out, all the Butterfingers and Krackels are forgotten and Mr. Goodbar and I are thankful for our sweet girls. We must be careful not to spill the peppermint, Patty, and take good care of the baby, Ruth.
I was once asked to liken adopting teenage girls to chocolate and that’s the best I could do. I left out the part about taking a bite, not liking it and putting it back in the box. Adoption is a lifetime commitment and putting it back in the box is not an option.
My husband John and I have adopted 13 children between the ages of 5 and 18 over the last 25 years. Our initial adoption in 1989 in New Mexico was a sibling group of three — two older boys and their younger sister. That younger sister is now 30 and has two lovely children of her own. When we adopted her at age 5, we were told she would spend the majority of her life in an institution.
Love and perseverance certainly proved that wrong! But love alone is never enough. We learned so much about advocacy after adopting these children with very high needs. When asked if we would do therapeutic foster care for two sisters who “just needed a place to stay for the summer,” we decided this was an opportunity to use what we had learned.
We have had more than 60 children in our home as foster, respite and adoptive placements. It took us a while to find our area of expertise as we fostered boys and girls of all ages, but we discovered we loved having the house full of teenage girls. Sure, we have those moments when we want to put them back into the box — some much more than others.
By the time these young ladies reach our house, they are pretty much at the end of the road. Some have spent years in group homes; some have come straight from biological families; some have come from other foster homes; some have come from homeless or runaway shelters. Most have siblings they miss terribly who have gone in different directions. Biological parents have died; relatives could not take them; they have little to no contact with extended family. And so they land at our house. Whether they stay or not is entirely up to them.
Their needs are different; their histories are different; their diagnoses are different. But the underlying objective is the same. They want to overcome their past and have a future — go to college, get a job or be good parents to children of their own. Without the support of a healthy family, their chances of success are diminished. Surviving day to day with mental and/or emotional disorders often takes all they have. Most have learned severely maladaptive behaviors which prevent them from forming healthy relationships with other people, particularly peers. All have a distrust of the adults in their lives.
We don’t do well with kids who have been seriously involved with the justice system, are physically aggressive, set fires or hurt animals, but give us a girl with tons of attitude and exploding hormones, a girl who is boy-crazy and at war with the world and we will give her opportunities — to shop, travel, try different foods, to live in a family and, most importantly — pursue her dreams. I tell the girls my job is to turn them into strong and independent young ladies.
Our home operates on a group mentality, but we are definitely not a group home. The older girls in the home help with the new ones. They teach them the ropes and help whenever they can. Sometimes a new girl reminds them of when they first came and they step up to the plate to help that newcomer. Adoption is not the answer for every child, but it is the means to an end. Because we work with an older population, John and I wait for the girls to ask to be adopted. By that point they have realized this is what they want and need for themselves. For older children, it is not as much our commitment to them which makes adoption successful, but their commitment to adoption and to the family. One of our daughters came to us at 18 and asked to be adopted as an adult. We are pleased when they want us to take their journey beside them.
John and I are fortunate to be fairly interchangeable parents with the girls. Poor man! The estrogen level is overwhelming! He is approachable for any topic (you fill in the blanks) and has the patience I sometimes lack. John does the majority of the transportation and I keep track of the paperwork and run the household. Often we are going in different directions depending on appointments for the girls. One of us may be in Bangor while the other is in Caribou. We demand a high level of cooperation within the family so each person can get what they need — not necessarily what they want. We encourage participation in sports and social groups, community activities and family activities. For me, shopping with the girls is a wonderful teaching opportunity! I love taking them on trips and introducing them to new things. We have a wonderful time — squabbles and all. John and I vowed very early on to give our kids experiences and memories no one could ever take away. They have lost enough, but no matter what, they will have good memories.
When I asked John the most important lesson he thought we have learned over these last 25 years, he said it was the ability to be flexible. Our life can change dramatically with a phone call and all the plans for the day (or week or month) disappear. We set up expectations in our home for the girls, but if we are too rigid in enforcing what we want, they will show us a thing or two! We know all too well adoption has to meet the needs of these young people, never to meet our needs. When everyone has a great day, it is absolutely icing (Chocolate!) on the cake. We draw our strength from each other and find other ways to meet our own needs. That way we have the ability to focus on the girls.
As I said at the beginning, we are a bit Wonka, but it works for us. Our adoptions are an outward legal and binding commitment to these young people whose biological parents for whatever reason could not follow through as a family. The girls give a wonderful flavor to our lives — even better than chocolate!
    Gail Neher and her husband John are adoptive parents who live in Cary Plantation. They wrote this commentary on the occasion of National Adoption Awareness Month (November.)