My name is Bethany, and I live in southern Wisconsin with my husband, Paul, and our six children, whose ages range from nearly twelve years to just over seven months. Trying to get through a grocery store with six kids in tow always draws attention. Strangers comment, “Looks like you’ve got your hands full!” But the truth is, our family is unique in ways that aren’t obvious at first glance. Our two youngest boys joined our family through adoption, and each has a disability.
Troy, who is almost four, has Down syndrome, and Owen, our seven-month-old, has Koolen-de Vries syndrome. If you’ve never heard of that, it’s a rare genetic condition caused by a partial deletion on the seventeenth chromosome. So while Down syndrome is an extra chromosome, Owen’s condition is a missing piece of one. We jokingly call ourselves a “chromosomally-neutral” family.
Although both adoptions have been incredible, I want to focus on our first journey. That adoption taught us so much about ourselves, about special needs, and about what it truly means to love a child unconditionally.
Paul and I came to adoption gradually. We met in 1999 when I was nine and he was fourteen. Back then, I thought he was boring, and he probably didn’t notice me. Fast forward ten years to the summer of 2009. Suddenly, we saw each other in a whole new light. He asked me out in June, we were engaged by September, and married in December. It was fast, but we both knew what we wanted.
Paul had always thought adoption was a good thing but never imagined it for himself. I, on the other hand, had dreamed of adoption for as long as I can remember. My grandmother gave me an American Girl catalog when I was little, and I chose a baby doll of a different ethnicity. I would play “adoption,” rescuing babies from imaginary orphanages or floating rivers. Adoption was always a dream, but one I thought might remain distant.
The real turning point came unexpectedly. I heard that a young woman I had known as a child was pregnant and wouldn’t be able to parent. I called Paul immediately and asked if we could see about being considered for her baby. In the end, that baby already had a family. But it got us thinking: if we were ready to love a baby we barely knew, why not any other child in need? Our Christian faith taught us that every life is valuable and deserves love, and we realized we could provide a safe, loving home.
Deciding on the type of adoption was overwhelming. International adoption felt complicated for our family with four young children. Domestic infant adoption also felt daunting. And then there were children with special needs. At first, Down syndrome seemed “too scary,” something only superhero parents could handle. But the more I read, the more I realized how amazing people with Down syndrome are. I followed families online, watched videos, and learned everything I could, then excitedly shared it with Paul.
I discovered the National Down Syndrome Adoption Network and felt like I had finally found a community that understood. Through them, we learned what it would really take to adopt a child with Down syndrome, and we gained the confidence to start our home study.
I expected the home study to be the hardest part, but it wasn’t. Our social worker was supportive and encouraging. When our profile went live on the registry, we were finally ready but waiting to be chosen was agonizing. Our profile was presented twice before we were picked. One baby passed away, and another family was chosen. The waiting tested our patience and our hearts in ways I never imagined.
Then, on July 5, 2018, I got the call. We were chosen to adopt a baby boy due in October. The next months were full of preparations, fundraising, and getting to know his birth mother. A week before his due date, our whole family traveled to Florida so she could meet us in person.
When Troy was born on October 24, I held his mother’s hand as we welcomed him into the world. He didn’t need rescuing, he was deeply loved but she chose us to give him the life she hoped for. Troy spent ten days in the NICU, which was scary, but I spent every moment learning his cues and marveling at him.
Now, almost four years later, Troy is sweet, silly, and full of personality. He works hard to reach milestones, and every small victory amazes me. Through him, I’ve learned that a person’s worth isn’t measured by chromosomes. Loving Troy has changed our family forever, and when the chance to adopt again came, we knew our hearts were ready.
