Parenthood chose them, and they revel in it

THE PARENTS: Sean Schaible, 37, and Richard Schaible, 38, of Levittown

THE KIDS: Christian Joseph, 7; Nolan Patrick, 5, adopted Sept. 30, 2022

A CONSISTENT THROUGH-LINE: Extended family, including the adult siblings and cousins who joined the couple for a recent trip to Disney. “Both our families are huge. We do everything together. They all come because they love our kids,” Sean says.

Rich knew he wanted children, but he didn’t see how parenthood would ever be possible. Using a surrogate was crazy-expensive. So was private adoption. He wasn’t sure he would be able to bond with a child who wasn’t genetically his. On the other hand, if he and Sean became foster parents, and then the child had to leave, that would break his heart.

Meantime, he watched as his brother and cousins had children. “That reminded me of all the things I really wanted, but it still felt unattainable.”

Sean felt the same way. “Growing up [as gay men], we didn’t think it would ever happen for us.”

Then a phone call in April 2016 stunned them. It was someone from Bucks County Children & Youth: “We need you to pick up your nephew tomorrow morning at 7 a.m.” Sean knew his sister and the child’s father had been struggling with addiction; he and Rich figured taking 2-year-old Christian would be temporary.

They’d never even changed a diaper. They frantically summoned cousins and scoured the internet with their questions: Can a 2-year-old eat solid food? Should he still be taking a bottle? What’s normal?

“He’d been isolated a lot,” Rich says, “and we had to socialize him. It was overwhelming, but luckily we have a very big support system.”

Weeks turned to months. Meantime, the couple became certified as foster parents. They adopted Christian, in a Bucks County courtroom packed with nearly 50 well-wishers, in July 2019. The child who barely talked had become a mini-Sean, gregarious and outgoing.

Those are the qualities that first attracted Rich when the two met, at the behest of mutual friends, back in 2009. “I’m more awkward, quiet, and reserved,” Rich says. “Sean is the crazy party person, the center of attention.”

They moved in together after a few months of dating. Sean was the more seasoned adult; Rich, who had always lived at home, didn’t know how to cook or use a washing machine. But Sean’s over-the-top holiday decorating — not one, but nine Christmas trees; a huge party for Halloween with animatronics in every room — felt familiar. That’s what Rich’s family did, too.

Sean proposed at Rich’s 30th birthday party in July 2014, just months after same-sex marriage became legal in Pennsylvania. They wed on New Year’s Eve 2015: 250 people, with confetti cannons and sparklers at midnight.

They traveled to Las Vegas five years in a row; they spent weekends at the bars with friends. But what they really craved was life with children.

After adopting Christian, they remained open to more foster children, declining calls about babies because their work schedules wouldn’t accommodate an infant’s needs. Then a call came just after Christmas 2020: a 4-year-old boy who needed placement.

“Nolan walked in the door and owned the place,” Sean recalls. “He was not scared. He said, ‘I’m hungry; what do you have to eat?’ ” Most important, the two kids bonded instantly, showing off their toys and sharing the bunk beds in Christian’s room.

Six months after Nolan’s arrival, a social worker called with news that the boy would be reunited with his biological mother. Sean packed his belongings. But there was a delay — one week, several weeks. By fall 2021, it was clear that Nolan was staying. His mother’s parental rights were terminated in March.

That same month, the agency phoned again: a 4-year-old girl, this time. “I said, crazy as it is, let’s throw a girl into the mix here,” Sean says. Rich, who had begun to work from home in the human resources department at Starbucks, repurposed a large closet so they could turn his office into a bedroom.

When they let friends and family know that they were in need of “girl things,” so many packages arrived that Amazon drivers needed carts to roll them to the door.

They were a bit nervous about their foster daughter — how would she adapt to having brothers, and to the family’s brisk routine of morning wake-ups and weekend adventures? “But she came right in and was good from the get-go,” Sean says.

Parenthood chose them, and it’s the kids who determine each father’s role. If one of them is hurt or sick, they seek out Rich. Sean oversees dressing and packing for trips. “I’m the one who says, ‘Clean up your shoes and put your toys away. It’s bath time. It’s bedtime.’ ”

In their childless days, weekends meant hanging out with friends. Now they’re loading three kids into the car for trips to Sesame Place or Six Flags, the mountains, or the shore. For Nolan’s adoption, they filled the Doylestown courtroom once again, then celebrated with a screening of Hocus Pocus 2.

The kids haven’t begun asking questions about their origins, but Sean and Rich know Nolan’s adoption is likely to prompt some, especially from Christian, who was too young to clearly comprehend his own adoption day.

“We’ll try to explain things: How we are, how we’ve been, and how we’re going to stay,” Rich says. “We’ll say that everyone cares about and loves you just the same way.”

Even in their foster daughter’s initial months with the family, they saw changes: She was willing to try more foods; she began to engage with people rather than withdraw into silence. She began pre-K in September.

There’s a set of bunk beds in her room, just in case. “I was talking to our foster care worker the other day,” Sean says, “and she said, ‘We may have a 3-year-old girl needing placement.’ I said, ‘Let’s get through Nolan’s adoption, and then we’ll talk.’ We do have the space. If a child does need a place to go, our house is open. We’ll figure it out.”

“We want to stay open as foster parents,” Rich says, “because we know the impact that can have.”