Finalization.

What a strange word. It refers to the ending of foster care of course, but it really is an odd word.

Finalization. It seems so terminal.

We had only been foster parents for six months when we finalized. We transitioned from foster care to being adoptive parents. Finalization really meant Beginingization or Transitionization.

The moment our child came to our home we had made the commitment that a forever home was being created. Even though there was the opening to disrupt, that just seemed wrong. My child had had enough disappointment in her life. "Disrupt" - there is another euphemism. We should call it what it is - deep rejection of another person because they just don't fit in.

The seven months of foster care we gave our child seemed onerous. Asking the county for permission for her to be able to go on a school trip. Having to get a note to bring her on a plane to visit family. The visits from the case worker to check up on us. While we were getting to know this new little person in our lives and were trying create a parent/child bond, there were rules that taught our kid, that we were not in control.

We met our child's lawyer - a wonderful lady who truly had our kid's best interests in mind. We met various case workers. We met her therapist. We met her psychiatrist. We met her previous foster parents. There were so many people involved in this little person's life trying to help her navigate all the way to a forever family.

Those seven months just dragged on and on.

The morning of Finalization I don't really think our daughter quite understood what was going on. She had spent so much time in different foster homes that I think the idea of permanence is pretty foreign. In fact, even after having been with us for many many years now - I think at the back of her brain she is expects to be abandoned. It was a pretty cold morning - I remember snow during our drive to the courthouse. It was grey and wet, but we were full of joy and hope.

We arrived at the court house and we had to wait for our turn in the courtroom. Everybody had nervous energy as we entered. She was moved from our sides to the right side of the courtroom with her Guardian Ad Litem - a wonderful lady - but our little girl had only met her a few times. She looked tiny behind the giant table. She looked nervous. She fidgeted.

The magistrate came into the courtroom and we all stood. He flipped through the records. Our hearts all fluttered. We were ALL nervous. Firstly he said something like, "This is my favorite part of the job." Then, I distinctly remember as the Magistrate said quietly staring intently at our little girl, "Do you know why you are here?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"To stay with my new mom and dad forever."

"Is that what you want?"

"Yes."

That second yes brought a huge lump up in my throat. I felt pretty overwhelmed. So when the magistrate turned his attention on my wife and I it seemed nearly impossible to focus on what he was saying to us. But somehow we got through it.

At the end of day, the magistrate gave our kid a bear - a bear she still has.

It was a day full of hope.