That's how the story ends.
Wait until you hear how it begins....
S and I spend Thanksgiving with her family every year. S's family consists of 3 women, all of whom can safely be called senior citizens. They are all 3 lovely people who do their best to love their family. They are all 3 lovely people who have spent their entire lives in very small towns in the south - and have the fears and beliefs to match.
S + coming out = very hard for them
S + dating a real live woman = super duper hard for them
S + marrying me = inconceivable and they asked us not to send the invitation and to never mention it again
(side note: I'm always welcome at family functions, as long as we never disturb the Kate & Allie version of us they have in their minds)
S: "We wanted to wait to tell you in person that we are very excited because we are adopting a baby!"
Crickets, crickets, crickets.
Eyes get wide.
S's mama: a very pained, "Well, I'm OK with it, I guess."
Which soon deteriorated into, "It's going to be a white baby, right?"
And things spiraled into horribly worse from there....
It was bad.
It was offensive.
Hurtful things were said.
There was yelling.
And admonishments to never bring the baby to the house, "because I just can't accept it."
The drive home
We left Saturday morning. S so hurt. And me so hurting for her and so angry that a family could say the things they did. We processed for hours (as our people do). And we reconfirmed our commitment to each other to build the kind of family that we believe in, even at the cost of pissing off our families of origin.
And then the phone calls started. Guilty and even (once) apologetic. S's family trying to make amends as we drove the 7 hours home. And right before she hung up, on that last phone call, S's mama said, with deep sincerity, "that was the best thanksgiving ever."
12 hours ago