When my spouse and I appeared on “Home Hunters Renovation,” our onscreen lives regarded good as our house was rebuilt. However offscreen, our household was falling aside. Though we reworked the kitchen with imported tiles and a French vary plucked from our shared Pinterest board, viewers had no concept we had been foster mother and father struggling to maintain our marriage intact.
Everyone knows that actuality TV isn’t fairly actual. It thrives on exaggeration and half-truths. Over two months of filming in Atwater Village and Silver Lake, we had been portrayed as a carefree, childless couple. In precise actuality, we had been a household of 4, starting the unsure means of adopting the younger brothers we’d fostered for nearly a 12 months. Two mothers and two boys — “Even Stevens,” the boys appreciated to say.
Though social employees assured us our household could be everlasting, the boys couldn’t seem on display as a consequence of privateness guidelines. After saying goodbye to a child we fostered the 12 months earlier than, we didn’t even point out them, in case issues modified.
Onscreen, Mary and I loved wine with buddies, understanding and strolling our canines — a story pieced collectively from one tightly scheduled day of filming. Whereas we staged house enchancment scenes and appeared involved about home equipment, actual life was way more dramatic than the present’s ordinary “The place’s your closet?” moments.
The boys grew more and more anxious as family members they hadn’t seen since infancy expressed curiosity in guardianship. We acted as if we believed the thought was good for them — perhaps it was. That they had simply begun calling us their mothers, clinging to us as we facilitated visits with the family members to ease a potential transition, not for us, however for them.
Our episode didn’t seize scenes of us consoling the oldest when his evening terrors returned or taking calls from college on shoot days when the youngest begged to return house. We’d change off our mic packs whereas convincing him to return to class, assuring him we’d at all times be there on the finish of the day. I questioned how lengthy we might preserve that promise.
Amid fostering and renovations, we managed common parenting duties too: karate, play dates and meltdowns. Hectic work schedules left us little time to debate something except for house enchancment and the boys’ actions. In the meantime, we tracked each on-camera outfit in case producers wanted to “make changes” later. We maintained a cautious facade for the digicam. For ourselves, too. I wished our life to really feel pretty much as good because it regarded.
On weekends off from filming, I’d convey margaritas in an insulated bottle for household journeys to the park, telling myself it was the identical as brunch drinks with buddies, which our schedule not allowed. Mary and I handed the bottle backwards and forwards, our palms grazing, the one trace of intimacy these days.
Because the renovation progressed, we started arguing. We clashed over probably the most minor issues: schedules and meals. Our solely alone time was spent sipping wine in entrance of the TV after studying the boys’ bedtime tales.
We began {couples} counseling towards the tip of “Home Hunters” filming — another factor to suit into our week. We walked into our first session holding palms, however the vibe shifted as we settled onto reverse ends of the couch. I went in optimistic, anticipating recommendations on reconnecting, however Mary stated she wished area; issues had been too tough. My coronary heart pounded in my ears because the room blurred round me. I questioned if we had been filming a unique actuality present. Absolutely, I used to be being “Punk’d.”
The mounting stress of labor, transforming, filming and parenting — whereas dealing with the gauntlet of the foster care system and the boys’ more and more seemingly departure — was taking a toll, for positive. However extra distance felt like the alternative of what we would have liked. The boys had no concept something was amiss. We introduced a entrance of stability for his or her sake. As we trudged alongside, it grew to become clear: We wanted to gut-rehab our communication and lay the inspiration for significant connection.
We started with day by day check-ins homework from our actor-turned-therapist to share ideas and emotions, not simply the day’s occasions. Although awkward at first, these steps constructed belief and helped us reconnect, not simply as co-parents, however as companions. Slowly, our partitions got here down.
After some delays, our renovation was full. It ought to have been a happier time, however we moved in whereas getting ready the boys to go dwell with their family members. Although saying goodbye was heartbreaking, we knew it was seemingly greatest for all of us. Unsure what sort of household we might present in the event that they stayed, we’d at all times miss them, however I additionally felt a tinge of reduction having our lives again. Perhaps now we might refocus and rebuild — a bittersweet transition.
We stopped arguing. We weren’t as burdened. We had significant conversations, not simply rundowns of logistics. We went on dates, reconnected with buddies and revisited shared and separate pursuits. We had the area once more to be entire individuals who might present up for one another at our greatest. Our last counseling session was the day after the renovation “reveal,” once we pretended to see the completed home for the primary time.
When the episode aired, we watched it over hefty pours of wine from our couch, the place I cringed right into a velvet throw pillow every time I heard my recorded voice describe our new house as “Spanish-y.” Buddies, household and even strangers requested about our filming expertise. Nobody knew to ask about our secret kids. It’s like they by no means existed.
Through the ensuing 12 months, we mirrored on our previous and questioned if we’d been chasing a guidelines: Marriage? Verify. Home? Verify. Children? We realized we didn’t want a toddler to finish us — we had been stronger than ever. However we noticed how a lot the boys thrived with us, even underneath difficult circumstances. No, we didn’t want a child, however perhaps a child wanted us.
Immediately, our 12-year-old daughter, with us for over eight years, is formally adopted after a protracted, unsure course of. We proceed to stability the calls for of parenting and acknowledge our partnership is a endless challenge that may’t be adequately packaged for an hour of TV.
We lately revisited our episode for the primary time, watching with our daughter tucked between us on the couch, laughing at her onscreen mothers. My recorded voice nonetheless made my palms sweat, but it surely jogged my memory not solely of the time we renovated a home, however of all of the years since, as we’ve rebuilt our lives and our household. We’re not serious about projecting perfection — we all know it doesn’t exist. We clinked our glasses of glowing water — our drink of selection nowadays — and marveled at how far we’ve come. We don’t even dwell in that home anymore.
The writer is a author and marketer dwelling in Glendale along with her spouse and daughter. She wrote “A Children Ebook About Foster Adoption” and is engaged on a memoir. She’s on Instagram: @j_murn.
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