"This is not my version of quarantine sourdough, right?" I had just told my friend Kristin I was seriously thinking about adopting an infant. Our friendship has lasted 25 years, and if anyone is going to give it to me straight, it's Kristin. I was prepared for any number of responses, but I didn't expect the answer she gave: Are you kidding me? You've been talking about adopting for as long as I've known you.
She's right. I've always loved children. Although I grew up an only child, I always figured I'd have a house full, and I always thought adoption would be part of how that came about . But that's not exactly the way things went. As I entered my 40s, single (again) and still childless, I figured my opportunity for raising a child had passed, and I set that vision of my life aside. My life is full. I've travelled the world. I've earned three masters degrees. And I have a dear group of friends who are like family, and a flock of children I love, many of whom have adopted me as Aunt Dawn.
I don't know what it was that finally shook loose the notion that I had to be married to adopt a child. (Coincidentally, I also once had it in my head that I had to get married before I could buy a KitchenAid mixer. Also incorrect.) Maybe it was all the upheaval of 2020- the year where everything certain became uncertain. But sometime this fall, I realized I could adopt a child on my own. After a little research I learned there are some requirements for infant adoption, one of which is you have to start the process no older than 45.
After talking with a bunch of people who know and love me, including the aforementioned group of friends, I applied to adopt an infant through a local agency. Today they notified me my application was accepted, and I could begin the home study process
So off we go…
