Adopting children was a risk. We listened to the stories, we took the classes, and we had a plan. The plan was hijacked from us and we took the risk. We adopted two precious children who had been through several failed adoption placements while continuing to bounce back to their family of origin.
For all the legal, medical, insurance, school, friendship, teenage, and Covid drama, I do not regret it. We did the best we could even though we started with nothing and two kids already in double digits.
Now that it is over, I get asked a lot if I regret it. I do not. I could not let their cycles continue. We stopped the trauma from multiplying. It was a ship made out of Swiss cheese, but we kept patching the holes for eight years.
It was exhausting and thankless. In the end, we are currently left with nothing but memories. I do not regret it. Even knowing everything I do now, I would do it again. Those scared little girls needed someone to stand up for them and I did. I put them before my own well being. It almost collapsed my marriage. I am in a world of debt. I would do It again.
I do not regret opening my home, my heart, and my sanity to those girls who needed someone to care about them first. Someday they may or may not realize their narrative is incorrect. I do not need their gratitude or remorse. I want them to be happy and whole. It is all I have ever wanted for them. However that works out for them is fine, as long as they are safe and happy.

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