Last week, I talked to some family friends who I’ve known for 30 years.  To protect their privacy, let’s call them Bob and Jane.  I babysat their oldest daughter when I was a preteen.  When I forgot my house key in junior high school, I’d walk to their house and visit with Jane.  My mom wasn’t home when I had my first car accident, so she called Jane who hurried over to hug me.  When I was 19 years old, Bob and Jane adopted a child.  Jane was around my age when the adopted baby arrived.  When I began pursuing adoption in earnest, naturally I asked if I could speak with them.  I didn’t really have any burning questions for them.  I just wanted to talk to someone who’s “been there done that.”

We talked for about an hour and a half.  There were three parts of the conversation that I think will stick with me for the rest of my life…

First, parenthood never ends.  My mom has often told the story of listening to my great-grandmother worry about one of her 60+ year old “kids” when I was a baby.  That was the moment my mom realized that parenthood wouldn’t end until she died.  Jane, who’s youngest child is now 19 years old, told me the same thing.  Parenthood never ends.  She said, “I assumed I’d get them through high school and then they’d go off to college and I’d be done, but it doesn’t end with college.  In fact, it is easier to parent a 6 year old than a college student because your heart breaks with every problem and you can’t fix their college problems.”

Second, they taught me that parents – biological and adoptive alike – accept what they are dealt.  After Jane, who works in special education, scared me by telling me about the risks of fetal alcohol syndrome, I said, “Well, I guess I could adopt an embryo, but I really want a child who needs a home.”

Her face changed and she smiled and said, “Bethany, there’s no guarantee that you would have a perfectly healthy child even if you carried it yourself.  Parents do not get guarantees.”

Bob said, “All we want to do is make sure that you are ready to accept the cards you are dealt because that is what being a parent means.”

Finally, I realized I did have one burning question.  A fear I’d not confessed to anyone yet…

“Did you ever feel like you’d made a mistake or want to send her back?”  I asked.

To my great relief, there was absolutely no judgment as she answered, “Yes!”

“Really?”  I couldn’t believe my ears.

“Bethany, ALL moms – biological and adoptive – feel that way at some point.”

I sighed in relief and confessed that I’m afraid that I might feel that way at some point.

“What are you afraid might make you feel that way?” Bob asked very gently.

I began to cry as I explained, “I’m a perfectionist.  If I thought I wasn’t doing a good job, I might feel that way.”

Together Jane and Bob told me several times and in several ways that I would have to drop my perfectionism as a parent.  Then Jane said, “We all fail and we all succeed.  That’s just the nature of parenthood.”