As promised, another chapter for your Thanksgiving week! This one is much more G-rated, but I hope you'll still enjoy. No content warnings to speak of.
Would love to know what you think :)
"I still think you should've shaved that off," you say, frowning at The Boyfriend's beard.
"That's funny, because last night when I was eating you out, you-"
"Sssh!" You clap your hand over his mouth. "Remember what I said about today? No jokes. No sarcasm."
"She's not even here yet, it's not like she's listening." The 'she' in question was none other than Ms. Jackson, Noah's former ACS case manager, who was coming to your apartment today to do the home study interview you needed before The Boyfriend could legally adopt Noah.
"Just...start practicing now. Humor me." You frown at your reflection in the mirror as you clip your hair back, once again doubting your wardrobe choice of dark jeans and a button-down shirt. A skirt seemed too formal and desperate, but you needed something more than your home uniform of sweats and errant articles of clothing stolen from The Boyfriend. Deciding you weren't going to find a better alternative, you reapply your lipstick, Lilly kicking away like she doesn't understand the importance of the day. "You'd better not be giving me any trouble this afternoon, baby girl. I can't be running to pee every five minutes while we're talking to the nice lady about your brother."
Noah was out of the house for the day because, unlike the child in your womb, you couldn't trust him to sit quietly and not make a mess. You had gotten multiple babysitting offers, but in the end you had sent him off with Mrs. Amaro. She had been practically begging you to let her take Noah because she missed her own grandkids, and you knew that she would send him back home with enough food to fill your fridge for a week so that you (okay, The Boyfriend) wouldn't have to worry about cooking.
You hear the buzzer and freeze. "Will you go get that? I need to make sure there's nothing hiding under Noah's bed."
"I don't think she's- okay, okay," he says when he sees the look of panic on your face, hands up as he walks backwards toward the door. The letter you received about your homestudy said there would only be a 'basic' safety inspection, but you weren't taking any chances.
You don't find any hazards, only a misplaced shoe, and you hurry into the living room to see The Boyfriend by himself. "Where'd she go?"
"Delivery guy had the wrong apartment," he explains, rubbing his eyes. "Why don't you sit down? Relax for a sec."
You groan. "How the hell are you so calm? Aren't you nervous?"
"Are you kidding? I haven't been this nervous about anything since my first day at the Academy," he says, and you take pity on him, cupping his face in your hands and kissing the tip of his nose.
"I'm sorry. I've been so neurotic about this all week and I should've been paying more attention to how you were feeling," you admit, arms around his waist to pull him as close as you can with your stomach in between you. "But remember what you told me last night. No matter what, we're still a family."
He was about to say something, but then the buzzer rang again and it was showtime. You leaned against the kitchen table in what you hoped looked like a casual manner, like you just finished cleaning up after preparing a large (but nutritious) meal. No big deal, just something you do three times a day.
Ms. Jackson greets The Boyfriend and then looks you up and down. "Oh, you really are pregnant."
"Yes, yes I am," you say as you join the other two in the living room, sitting down beside The Boyfriend and taking his hand in yours.
"Well. That must have been quite a surprise."
"Actually, it was planned," The Boyfriend says with a wide grin, clearly enjoying seeing her reaction.
"Isn't that something? In any case, Olivia, it's good to see that you've settled down." The Boyfriend elbows you without even turning his head, and you force your face into something halfway between a smile and a grimace. Your unstable personal life has always been a point of contention between you and her. You know it's her duty to make sure foster parents are up for the job, but having seen firsthand the state of some foster homes, you really think she could've saved that energy for where it was really needed. Noah was always fed, clothed, safe, and loved, no matter who you were sleeping with, and that's more than you could say for a lot of children in her caseload.
The Boyfriend knows exactly what you're thinking, so he answers before you can. "I agree, believe me. Happen to think she made the right choice."
You cringe internally- you told him no jokes, no sarcasm!- but she seems amused.
Once she begins the interview, you resist the urge to answer for The Boyfriend and let him do the talking. It starts out simple with things he'd already talked about in their first meeting, like his growing up years, his family, and his job. Lilly keeps kicking away happily and you rub your belly in circles, trying to calm her. Ms. Jackson adjusts her glasses and shuffles her papers. "Now, about your criminal record-"
"Those charges were dropped," you say quickly, forgetting your pledge to stay silent.
"As I was about to say," Ms. Jackson continues, "it looks like we're all clear there. Do you still own a firearm?"
"I do. Should I show you where it's stored?" She agrees and as they head into the bedroom, you take a moment to stand up and stretch. The bigger you get, the harder it becomes to stay sitting for any length of time without some kind of aches and pains, not to mention your worry about blood clots. You see the light on your phone blinking and panic momentarily, hoping it's not a work emergency or a call from Mrs. Amaro.
Nope, just a text from Nick. [how's it going? need me to create a distraction? I can hack into the building security system and set off the fire alarm] and you don't even want to know how he thinks that he can do that.
[don't you dare. good so far.]
[K. My mom says Noah is an angelito and she might keep him.]
[the grandbaby fever is strong with that one. But once she tried to put him to bed, she'd change her mind]
You see Ms. Jackson returning and drop the phone like a kid who's been caught texting in class. "Just checking on my son. Being a responsible parent, you know, like always."
"Hmm," she hums, not Boyfriend gives you a look to let you know that you're doing too much and you meekly sit back down beside him. "So now that we've gone over the basics, I'd like to hear how you feel about adopting a child who's been through the foster care system. Even though this is a little different in that Noah's been in his permanent home for 18 months now, I'm wondering what your thoughts are on parenting a former foster youth."
"Well, first off, he'll always get the same amount of love and care from me that I'd give a biological child. So that doesn't change. But I know that- he was still so little when Olivia started fostering him, and I'm glad he won't remember the things that happened to him, but I know pre-verbal trauma is real and that it can show up in a lot of different ways. I'll do my best to be mindful of that, and to...we're doing everything we can to make up for the neglect he went through," he says, and he doesn't explicitly give his feelings on how ACS handled Noah's case, but you can tell what he's thinking. "We're keeping him out of daycare for the winter because we don't want him being exposed to all those germs during flu season, but his speech therapist still comes to the house twice a week, and I'm really glad I get to be a part of that to see all the progress he's making."
You know he didn't mean to make you feel badly, but you bite your lip at the reminder of the things that you're missing out on by being at work. It doesn't help that Ms. Jackson gives him a big approving nod, asking "And will you be staying home when the new baby comes?"
"Uh, well, I'm not quite sure yet. Liv's got enough time saved up to take a long maternity leave," and at this point, after how long you've been around and everything you've gone through, no one in the department is going to tell you no. "After that, we'll work something out. I'll probably arrange my schedule around the times Noah's at preschool and then we'll either find Lilly a babysitter or send her to daycare during that time."
As if you couldn't feel more like a failure as a mother right then, Ms. Jackson had to take it further. "It's a big transition, going from having one child to two. Any concerns about how you'll handle that?"
"It'll be a change, of course," The Boyfriend tells her as all of the struggles that you went through with Noah in those early days flash before your eyes; a traumatized mother and traumatized baby both clinging onto someone else for dear life. But The Boyfriend knows what you're thinking, reaching out and putting his hand on your knee to say that he's got this. "All of us will have to make some adjustments. I'm not worried, though. Liv's a great mom to one and she'll be a great mom to two. She's even made the decision to go back on antidepressants right after Lilly's born because she wants to be sure she's doing everything she can to be the best possible mom, and I'm real proud of her for that."
You put your hand on top of his in a silent show of thanks, not trusting your voice to keep from faltering if you try to speak. Making that choice had been difficult, just like making the choice to start taking them in the first place. You had resisted for so long and it was only because of Noah that you were finally able to admit that you weren't okay; that he needed a mother who had better coping strategies than drinking or self-harm or destructive sex. And despite your skepticism, it really did help you- so much so that you started tapering off them and stopped completely by the time you got pregnant.
But the decision to go back on them had been tough, not least of all because it meant that you were also giving up breastfeeding. Your doctor had told you that plenty of women on medication still nursed their babies, but after a couple of sleepless nights reading all the research that you could mine from Google, you came to the conclusion that the anxiety you'd feel about it would erase any benefit you might be getting from the meds. This decision naturally came with a lot of guilt even though The Boyfriend had been completely supportive, reminding you that formula hadn't seemed to bring any harm to Noah and promising you that the most important thing you could do is be healthy and present for your family. And so although it really wasn't any of her business (just like it really wasn't any of her business whether you were a stay at home parent or not), you might have been just a tiny bit proud that he was proud of you.
"Good to hear. I'm glad you're taking care of yourself," Ms. Jackson says, and you know that's about the highest praise that you're going to get from her. "Now, going back to what we were discussing before, how do you plan on handling the topic of adoption and Noah's biological parents as he grows up?"
"Well, it's something we've talked a lot about, and- again, Noah is very lucky to have Liv as a mother, and I'm deferring to her experience here. I've learned from her how important it is to be honest with kids about where they came from, even when it's tough, and how it's important to keep from projecting your own feelings onto your kid. Obviously Noah doesn't understand much now, but he's got books about adoption and we talk about it so...if nothing else, he'll know that it's not a bad word or something to be ashamed of. And once he's old enough, we'll explain more about why his birth parents aren't around." He grimaces, rubbing the back of his neck. "Honestly, it's not going to be easy for me to keep my opinions out of it, but Liv's taught me how kids internalize what you say. So I promised her- he'll never hear from me that either of them were bad people. Made bad choices, sure, but not bad people. We'll let him come to his own conclusions and know that he can talk to us about how he's feeling, whether it's good or bad. He doesn't have to pretend with me or...he doesn't have to feel happy and grateful about being adopted all the time. If he comes to me when he's older and says 'it's shitty that my birth parents couldn't take care of me', I'll say 'yeah, it is. I'm glad you're my son, but you're right, it's shitty it had to happen this way'."
You cringe to yourself at his language, but she doesn't seem to mind. "I can see you've given this a lot of thought, and I'm glad to hear that. Have you considered how you would handle having a relationship with any of his biological relatives?"
"Right now, as far as we know, all his relatives are basically MIA. If anyone did come into the picture, I guess I wouldn't be flat out opposed to them meeting him, but I'd need to get to know them first. Just because they're blood related doesn't mean... it's my job to keep him safe, first and foremost. And once he's an adult, whatever he chooses, if he wants to try and track them down- he'll have my support."
"I appreciate all the consideration you've put into this. I wish every adoptive parent was this thoughtful," Ms. Jackson says as she smiles at him. You want to point out that you said basically the same damn thing back when you were preparing to adopt Noah and didn't get the same reaction, but once again you manage to keep your mouth shut. She asks him a few more questions and then sets her notepad down. "That about covers it, but before I go, is there anything else you want to say?"
"Just that ever since Liv introduced me to him, I've loved him like he was my own son, which is- I want to be able to say I love him because he's my own son."
You try to choke back a sob and end up just plain choking. "'m fine!" you reassure everyone in between coughs, eyes watering over. Lilly, who had finally calmed down, was alarmed by the lack of oxygen and started pummeling your uterus again.
"I still need to write up my report for it to be official," Ms. Jackson cautions as you sip your water, "but I plan on recommending to the judge that you be allowed to adopt Noah. I'll do my best to get the report completed as soon as possible so that hopefully you can finish the process before your baby's born- when is she due?"
"End of April," you say, and she gives you that disbelieving look that everyone does when they hear that you still have three months to go.
"Oh. Then I have more time than I thought!" She puts her papers away and stands up, but not without one final jab. "You know, this process could've been more streamlined had you two been married."
"And yet here we are," you say dryly, rolling your eyes behind her back as The Boyfriend escorts her to the door.
You both manage to keep your composure until you see her get into the elevator, but as soon as you shut the door you let out a squeal and then you're both talking over each other, laughing and crying at the same time. Even though you knew that your little family was staying together no matter what, you're overjoyed that another piece has fallen into place.
"He's ours. He's really going to be ours." You laugh in amazement again, only wishing that Noah was able to understand what a momentous day this is and how much he's truly loved.
"He will when he's older," The Boyfriend promises when you tell him this, not even bothering to hide the way that his eyes are glistening. "And he'll know that we're all here- him, me, this little bean- because of you. You're what brought us all together. Do you realize that?"
You half-shake your head, not knowing what to say, but he rescues you by taking his phone out of his pocket. "C'mere, we'll take a selfie so that we can show Noah someday."
It's an unusual offer from him. He's great at getting shots of Noah to send to you while you're at work, but he himself is rarely in the picture unless he's making some sort of face at the camera while Noah's in the background (or every once in a while during Noah's nap, he'll send you a... different kind of pic). So before he can change his mind, you lean back against him and smile while he puts his free arm around your shoulders.
"That's a good one," he declares, sending it to your phone right away as you open up Instagram and type in a quick caption.
*(soon to be) official parents of two 💗*