The week the Defense of Marriage Act, or DOMA, was overturned, my wife, Laura, legally adopted our one-year-old daughter – even though Laura’s rights as a parent were already protected in Vermont.
We were legally married here, I’m the birth mother, and Vermont is one of a handful of states in which Laura is identified as a parent on the birth certificate. Instead of “Mother” and “Father,” we are “Mother” and “Parent.” Other states and the federal government don’t have to recognize Laura’s parentage on the birth certificate. But they are required to recognize adoption court orders from other states.
And since we wanted to travel this summer, we’d begun the adoption process by consulting a local lawyer who’d gone through this process herself as a parent in a same-sex marriage.
After the DOMA ruling, some might wonder if this second-parent adoption is still necessary. But federal recognition of our same-sex marriage doesn’t provide equal protection throughout the country. Legal rights for LGBTQ couples are still confusing and vary by state, some of which don’t allow same-sex couples to petition to adopt. Luckily, Vermont is one of twenty-one states that do, along with Washington D.C.
We learned that it would be less costly to represent ourselves, but there were still expenses: a $75 fee to the Vermont Superior Court Probate Division, plus a fee to the FBI for Laura to get fingerprinted for a criminal record check. And there was an exhausting amount of time and paperwork involved.
In lieu of a court-ordered home-study, which the lawyer assured us was unnecessary, the judge asked for a personal statement including family dynamics, marriage, health, motivation to adopt, parenting and discipline values, community activities, hobbies and interests, child care plans, and a summary of finances; plus letters of reference from family, friends, co-workers, and neighbors. We also submitted proof from the sperm bank that our anonymous donor had signed away his parental rights and privileges. The whole process took almost four months.
I was apprehensive about our court date, but when I asked the clerk what to expect, she simply said, “We celebrate the adoption.” Balloons and champagne, I wondered? But at least Laura wouldn’t be put on trial.
It was a hot, summer day when my wife and I arrived at court, carrying an armload of paperwork and our young daughter, who happily cheerfully waved and greeted everyone on the stairs. The security guard asked if we’d brought a camera to document this happy moment. And I was sorry we hadn’t, until I realized that it didn’t really feel like anything was changing in our life as a family.
Perhaps my mom said it best in a reference letter for the court, “I can’t wait to have a party celebrating the legal recognition of what the baby already knows, that Laura is one of her two wonderful mothers.”
No balloons or champagne perhaps, but our spirited daughter, smiling and waving in Laura’s arms was quite enough.
