The only tradition from my mom's family that I cared to carry on was the fact that all of the women in her family had their first child at the age of 25. So my plan was to learn about adoption and to adopt my first child at the age of 25.
Now, there was no husband in my world, no one on the horizon, and I guess while that seemed important to anyone else I told of my plan to adopt, it never really was a thought to me. I kind of had my life laid out. I was going to be a director of a child care center, and I would adopt my first child when I was 25... if a man entered my life and could fit that timeline GREAT, but if not, he would find me eventually and would enter my life and the life of my son----the one blessing I found in the fact that I was going to adopt was that I could try to adopt a son rather than a daughter.
I was kind of a tom boy, and really enjoyed the rough tumble play of boys, I loved watching them building with blocks, and playing ball, and basically just didnt understand why girls played with things like barbie dolls. So to me the consolation prize to adopting a child, was that maybe my odds were a little better that I would adopt a son rather than a daughter at least for my first child.
So I set off on the path of adoption- after having my home studied, obtaining references on why I would be a good mom, and finding an adoption agency that would work with me, life was on track to meet my timeline!
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