I’m trying to focus on the person speaking to me, but my husband won’t stop texting. First, he sends me a selfie of him with Rafi*, then a rundown of who stopped him on his way into the NICU. Then, he suggests I take a selfie with Jillian* so he can post them side-by-side on Facebook and announce that we finally have two babies.
People will probably think they’re twins, but they aren’t. In fact, these babies aren’t even ours.
I care for these babies as an “interim parent,” a role that involves providing care to newborns while their birth parents make crucial decisions about adoption.
Over the past four years, my family has cared for 22 newborns, helping them through a process that allows their biological parents to retain legal rights during this time and make decisions about their child's future. Our program is rare—few like it exist in the U.S.
While babies are with me, they’re often kept out of foster care or waiting in the hospital until adoption papers are finalized. In New York and other states, biological parents can change their minds about adoption within 30 days of starting the process. If they don’t, the baby is placed for adoption.
I became an interim parent after seeing a post on our neighborhood Yahoo! group. “That! I can do!” I thought as I read. It felt like the perfect way for me to contribute, so my husband and I applied. After months of background checks, doctor appointments, and reference letters, we were accepted.
The program is designed to give birth parents time to decide about adoption without pressure and also offer adoptive parents a secure transition. The babies in our care don’t usually get to meet their adoptive families until after they leave. About 30% of the babies I care for are returned to their biological parents, while the others are adopted, often in open adoptions where birth parents select and meet their child’s future family.
The experience of interim parenting is different each time. Babies usually stay with us for a few weeks, but some stay much shorter or longer. One baby was with us for just five days, while another stayed for over nine weeks.
It can be emotionally challenging. Some biological parents don’t interact with us at all while they make decisions, while others are deeply involved, texting for updates and scheduling visits. One birth mother became such a regular presence in our lives that my son once asked if we could bake her cookies.
I’m often overwhelmed by the gratitude of birth parents. I’ll never forget the day Melody*’s parents came to pick her up. They were so thankful for the care we’d given their daughter, and I had to hold back tears.
One of the most moving moments came when I handed Jibraan to his father. I’d never met him before that day, but he stood tall, like a linebacker, choking back tears as he thanked me.
When I wave goodbye to the social workers after each baby goes home, I wonder how long it will be before another baby arrives. I don’t get attached to each child, but I get attached to having a baby in my life, to the routine of caring for them. When I get the call from the adoption agency, I feel a rush of excitement: “Baby! I’m getting a BABY!” The excitement lasts a couple of days, but even as the sleepless nights wear on, it’s always worth it.
The emotions that swell when the babies go home are about more than just the emptiness I feel or the joy I feel for their families. It’s about the fulfillment in my heart, knowing I’ve been part of their story, even if only for a short while.