You are unfit!

“You are unfit to be parents!” were some of the last words I heard as I stumbled out of the adoption agency, newly decorated with Christmas cheer. The director’s disappointment in Jason and me wasn’t simply known by her words—her body language said as much. From her perspective, trusting us as potential adoptive parents was a mistake that she and her agency made. Her heavy words tossed carelessly in our direction while we sat opposite to her weren’t as painful as knowing the hot tears stinging my eyes probably wouldn’t subside for a long time. We blindly filled out the white sheets pushed towards us, the highlighted spots in bright pink to not miss a single signature where we legally acknowledged the full responsibility for our choices. 

It was a disorienting exchange, our baby for paperwork. Instead of holding our infant, we held a pen. Instead of carrying the joy of adoption, we carried bitter words.

Jason and I drove home in silence with an empty carseat strapped into our backseat while the word “unfit” swam through my brain. Was this it? Was this my story?