Relationship To Child

After all, it was true. Whatever our hearts said, whatever we’d been through, we were not legally their parents. And when it comes to paperwork, legality is the whole point.

“Relationship to child”

It comes after the signature line on their many (many) medical, insurance, daycare, and educational forms. 

And I get to write Parent.

It’s easy to take that simple claim for granted; I did, for years.

“Parent,” I’d dash, unthinkingly. “Mom.” 

Then our third child came, a tiny ward of the state with many (many) appointments and pieces of paperwork attached.

Suddenly, that typefield became a minefield. Were we “Guarantors?” “Guardians?” “Other?” 

At first, finding the right label was just awkward. But as months expanded into years of court hearings and foster license renewals, it became painful. We were his parents. I was his mom. He called me mom. How dare this piece of paper make us acknowledge otherwise? How dare they remind us we could lose him at any time, at the whim of a court that didn’t know him?

In the middle of it all, his brother, our fourth child came along. Yet another tiny ward of the state. Yet another fistful of signature lines.

We continued to respond dutifully to receptionists and specialists: no, we were not considered guardians. Yes, they were still covered by Medicaid. “Other,” we continued to check on their forms, however wrong it felt.

After all, it was true. Whatever our hearts said, whatever we’d been through, we were not legally their parents. And when it comes to paperwork, legality is the whole point.

Three months ago, a beautiful judge signed her beautiful name on a beautiful piece of paper in front of our friends and family. 

It didn’t change much in our day-to-day. It also changed everything.

Now I sit in a waiting room while my toddler chews a toy train and fill in the never-ending paperwork. Yes, I consent. Yes, I understand. Yes, yes, yes. 

I pause at “Relationship to child” and smile. 

Parent, I write.