Last year was one that I will never forget although sometimes I wish that I would be able. My family was adopting our twin boys at the time when the pandemic struck, and all of a sudden, everything stopped. Just like everyone else, we had no idea what was heading our way. The world appeared to lose its grasp—stores were bare, cities were erupting into chaos, and people were frightened. In the midst of all that turmoil, some of our friends and even relatives questioned whether we were certain we wanted to proceed with the adoption. My husband and I stared at one another in utter shock. “Why wouldn’t we?” we asked. The reality was, we’re a Black couple, and our twin boys are white. But to us, they already were ours.
Love doesn’t check color.
My name is Jennifer, and I’m an early learning specialist who co-owns a small childcare program. My husband, Harry, is a mechanic and an amazing father. For the past fifteen years, we’ve opened our home to children in foster care thirty-one placements in total. Some stayed for a few days, others for years. Every one of them left a mark on our hearts.
Our path began when we fostered a little one who was kin to us. When she came back home after three years, we were devastated, but far from shutting our doors, we chose to continue fostering. A month down the line, we received a call that an eight-day-old baby girl needed a home, and that is when our house finally came to be filled with laughter and affection. Fostering has since then been our common goal.
Presently, we have two biological children, ages 21 and 11, and four adopted boys 10, 8, and our three-year-old twin boys. Each of them has a unique story, but altogether, our family is whole. We met the twins for the first time when they visited under respite care to give their foster mother a rest. They were little, still on withdrawal, and it was hard but gorgeous. We hadn’t had children in years, and our older children were stoked until the tears began! By the weekend’s end, we were exhausted and dropped them off, assuming that was it. But then Tuesday morning, the phone call came.
“Would you consider keeping the boys long-term? “My husband laughed and said “no” right away, but in minutes our hearts said “yes.” Suddenly we were a family of eight. Life became more hectic, louder, and cluttered but also more full of love. The twins have some special needs, but they are full of energy and light. Yes, we get stares and uncomfortable questions when people see our blended family. Sometimes people ask, “Whose kids are they? ” or think they don’t belong to us anyway.
One time, even a woman thought my husband was kidnapping them at the park when they wept upon leaving.
Those moments sting, particularly because our children can listen and sense the judgment. But we encourage them to use their voices, to remain kind, and to be proud of who they are. The happenings of the past year served painful reminders of the ways in which the world can be so divided. Witnessing violence and protests, we discussed openly with our children love, race, and justice. Our eight-year-old explained that he wanted to make a new law to keep people safe and in that instant, I knew we were raising strong hearts.
Individuals occasionally ask us how we handle a large, mixed family. The fact is, we’re no different from any other family. We order in on Wednesdays, have marathons on Saturdays, and mayhem in between. We’re not color-blind we notice color and revel in it.Our house is founded on love, laughter, and a great big dose of patience.undefinedEvery day isn’t a masterpiece, but every day is a reminder of how fortunate we are to have one another.undefinedWho could ask for anything more?
