Finding a family in their own way

THE PARENTS: Crystal Markham, 36, and Marie Markham, 38, of Magnolia Hill

THE KIDS: Jolene (JoJo) Mae, 7; Johnny Jacob, 2, adopted June 7, 2023

AN INDELIBLE FAMILY MOMENT: Both kids were recently riding the mini-Scrambler at Hershey Park when Johnny managed to wiggle his feet from under the safety bar; Jolene yelled, workers stopped the ride, and everyone was fine.

Their families thought the plan was a terrible idea.

“You’re going to get attached to a foster child; it’s going to break your heart,” they said.

“You’ll take care of this kid who’s going to go back,” they warned.

Marie and Crystal were resolute: “We know what we’re getting into.”

Then the women explained their thinking: Both had grown up with unreliable, often-absent fathers, men with addictions to alcohol who sometimes chose the corner bar over the family dinner table.

“We know how it feels to be a kid and wonder why your parent isn’t around,” Marie says. After the two had talked about the prospect of foster care, they decided, “if we can give a kid a stable, loving, healthy home for whatever period of time [it is], that’s meant to be.”

The couple first met as teenagers at Bucks County Technical High School. Crystal studied carpentry, Marie pursued marketing, and their friend circles barely overlapped. But after graduation, when both were working at separate Wawa stores, a mutual friend brought them together.

Their first date, after the late shift at Wawa, was in October 2005, at the Great American Pub. “We went there at 11:30 at night and, next thing you know, it was 5 o’clock in the morning and we were still sitting there, talking,” Marie remembers.

Three weeks later, they were living together — at first with a friend of Marie’s and then in an apartment of their own. Their strengths dovetailed: Crystal was organized and tidy, but a disaster in the kitchen; when she tried to make spaghetti for their anniversary, she caught her shirt on fire. Marie excelled at cooking. When Crystal felt unmoored, Marie provided levelheaded ballast.

They’d talked about marriage, and one night, while watching television in bed, Crystal suddenly popped the question. They wed — in New Jersey, where it was legal for same-sex couples — in 2010, exchanging vows in a gazebo in a public park, with Marie in a dress and Crystal in a pink-and-black pin-striped suit. Their teenage sisters were junior bridesmaids.

“We both wanted a big family from the beginning,” Marie says. And for six years, they tried to conceive, doing dozens of at-home inseminations with sperm from four different male friends. Marie had two ectopic pregnancies and nine miscarriages. Crystal didn’t try to conceive because of health issues — endometriosis and numerous allergies.

“After each time, I would say the same thing: Why can’t we have a kid?” Marie remembers. “I became the rock for her to lean on,” Crystal says.

Finally, after a doctor advised that Marie’s chance of a successful pregnancy was less than 4%, “I thought: I can’t keep putting myself through this.” They began looking into foster care and adoption, ultimately deciding to go through the Bucks County Children and Youth Social Services Agency.

Two months after completing their foster care application and background checks, they got a call: a 4-year-old girl whose mother was on the wait list for a shelter. She stayed for half a week.

The next call was about a 2-year-old, Jolene, who lived with a foster family that did not plan to adopt her. Marie and Crystal had a weekend visit with the child; she was timid and silent at first, but by the time her foster mother came to pick her up on Sunday, she buried her head in Marie’s shoulder and said, “No.”

Four days later, she came to live with the couple permanently. She dubbed Marie “Mama,” Crystal was “Mommy,” and Marie’s mother became “Granny.”

Later, there were 18-month-old twins who stayed for just three months. On Feb. 6, 2021, their social worker wanted to talk to both women at once. “I have a placement. A boy. Three days old.”

The child was in a NICU, born to a mother who had used drugs while pregnant, though he was not addicted at birth. “We looked at each other: Can we handle it?” Marie remembers.

Four days later, Johnny arrived — an infant so tiny that Marie had to hunt for him in the car seat. “I could have held him in the palm of my hand,” she says.

For Jolene, the new sibling was like a doll, but better. She fetched tissues when his nose needed wiping; she sniffed his diaper to tell if he needed a change.

And when his birth parents’ rights were terminated, Jolene proudly reported to her school bus driver, “My brother gets to stay with us forever!”

The children have changed them, Marie and Crystal say. The kids offer constant reminders that every child is different; as a toddler, Jolene chattered about aluminum and lightning strikes, while Johnny is so physical and fearless that they call him “Rugged Ralph” or “Dennis the Menace.”

“They’ve made me more of a softie, a pushover,” Crystal says. “I’m a lot more open to figuring things out now. Before I was more cut-and-dried.”

Marie, who was a quasi-parent to her 12-years-younger sister, changing diapers and handling bottles, still feels stunned by the emotion she has for her own children. “Obviously, I love my wife to death, but it’s a different feeling when it comes to your kids. I never imagined how much love I could have.”

They hope to grow their family, perhaps with children between Johnny’s and Jolene’s ages. And they will be honest with all the kids about how they came to be a family.

“I tell myself that this was my plan all along,” Marie says with a laugh. “It’s crazy, but both kids resemble us: Jolene looks like Crystal, with bright blue eyes and dirty-blond hair, and when I put my baby picture and Johnny’s baby picture side-by-side, you wouldn’t know who’s who: strawberry-blond hair and brown eyes.

“We joke around: God had his plan. It just came to us in a different way.”