Yesterday I became a father. The road to fatherhood for THE CAPRANICA was a tad different than what many experience. Our daughter was born at 3:25 a.m. January 15, 2007. A year and ten days later, I finally became her father.

Unfortunately, I did not go to the hospital when she was born. Actually, no one told me that she had been born. I didn’t find out for seventeen days after her birth that she had arrived. I never had the privilege to see her through the glass window where they take the newborns for ecstatic fathers and family to smile and stare. We took no pictures of mom, dad and infant in the delivery room after her birth. No family was present when she entered this world, and within hours, the woman who gave birth to her would even walk away. She was sick and needed ten days in the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit to detox from the methamphetamines and marijuana that were found in her blood as well as to be taken off of the ventilator and oxygen necessary to sustain her life.

Even after little Brie was allowed in our home, the authorities would not allow me to be considered her father. In fact fatherhood for me and Brie would require months of paper work, court hearings, conversations with multiple social workers, lawyers and other state mandated and sanctioned organizations. Prior to Brie’s birth, my wife and I were required to attend over thirty hours of classes, just so one day we could actually be allowed to officially be called her parents. Multiple social workers had to come into our home and make sure that the drawers and cabinets containing our knives and chemicals were locked up. Our refrigerator was required to be at 40 degrees or below (it was mandated that we have a thermometer inside the fridge to prove it) and our hot water temperature could be no higher than 120 degrees. We could not be parents until our garage was cleaned and every potential child-harming tool was securely locked away in cabinets. I was forced to have my cars inspected and written proof signed by an acceptable mechanic that they were in good condition. The state further mandated that we prepare a room for Brie that could be used for no other purpose than her and contain nothing else in it other than Brie’s personal belongings (i.e., no storage of odds and ends in her closet). And yet still, after our home was approved (in writing) I was still not able to be considered her father. That privilege would have to wait for another year.

So, for the past year, while feeding, changing, clothing, laughing with, crying with, hugging, playing, traveling and doing all the things most fathers enjoy with their children, I did them all with the knowledge that the government would not yet let me be called her father. I had no fatherly rights or privileges. In fact, I was told that my responsibilities toward her could be viewed as nothing more than official child care.

Honestly, none of these obstacles bothered me. I engaged in them willingly and joyfully. I hope to do it all again soon too. Yesterday made every day of the previous year worth the wait. Yesterday, our house changed from a day care to a home; our roles changed from caregivers to parents and my title changed from “foster father” to just plain old “father.” For the past year and ten days of Brie’s life she was a foster child, abandoned by her birth family and placed in our state approved house with state approved foster parents who followed state mandated procedures to care for her. Yesterday, a judge stood in courtroom 102, filled with members of my family and friends and officially declared and signed his name to a piece of paper that stated not only that I could actually be Brie’s father, but that I legally was her father. Next to my wedding day, I don’t know of a more thrilling family occasion for me personally.

So today, I woke up for the first time as an official father. The road was different than many, but enjoyable for Kelly and me. We don’t regret a day of the process or the requirements. We understand theological terms like “providence,” “sovereignty,” and “adoption,” in more personal and profound ways than we did a year ago. We see the necessity for adoption more clearly today than a year ago. We appreciate the system more sympathetically than we did a year ago. And we are enjoying being a family more personally and now, officially, than we did a year ago. THE CAPRANICA is finally a father.

Brie’s Adoption