So, here’s the latest installment in my adoption soap opera life experience. I have been checking the waiting children websites daily if not twice and thrice a day. (I know that’s not a word, but you get it, it’s often.) Since no one works as fast and I would like them to and all I keep wondering is where are all the crack babies when you need one, I continue to take matters into my own hands. I digress, back to the story. I see this little boy, 2 years old on a California waiting site and he lives in my same county (this was actually what I noticed first, since most of the children listed are down south or in the LA area). When I read his brief bio is said he had Autism and limited language, but has started using some sign language to communicate. I was smitten. I worked in childcare for years, having had the most mild of Autism cases to the very extreme, and have found the soul of each and every one of these children very pure and honest with a (in most cases) brilliant mind. I know the challenges can be constant, emotional, difficult, and taxing, however I would love to be able to help this little guy and learn from him as well. So I email the social worker (I fill out an interest form Thursday night and wait). To my surprise I receive a call early Friday morning at 7:51 and get this, it was his social worker. Hot dang, talk about prompt service, already I love this SW! So she talks to me for close to an hour (likely 40-45 min) about his development, recent assessments, height, weight, food likes (apparently he devours everything), activity level, services, his current foster home (an elderly woman that doesn’t drive much and doesn’t get out with him very much), everything! So I was telling her how I was envisioning every child with Autism that I have dealt with over the years when she was breaking down certain behaviors he exhibits. (If you are familiar with Autism, he does the rocking, lining up of toys, occasional head banging, etc.) I do not proclaim to be an expert, and as I have learned from the University of Google, I know I have much to learn. So this SW contacted my foster care agency to receive a copy of my homestudy so that (after reviewing it) we can meet and I can have full disclosure of his family medical history. That is always a little scary for me because I really have to run down in my mind what would be a definite no thanks. Perhaps Schizophrenia or excessive drug abuse and an unknown father. I don’t know, but I have tried to think of everything and just whittle down what would be okay and workable and what would be a concerning unknown. I think life itself can be a concerning unknown no matter what so I don’t feel I have the right to demand a predictable outcome. I had a rough day with one of my daycare babies (lots of gas and tears) so I wasn’t able to contact my agency to see if SW had called them. When I did it was 4:30, thank G-d I got a hold of someone before they closed for the day. The guy that answered (after I explained my situation and that I needed to know if the SW called) he said, “a waiting child, FOR ADOPTION!?!” I wanted to reach through the phone and flick him on the head saying, “ummm duh, where have you been, yeah adoption, I’m really not the type to be a foster parent lifer, it’s just not for me.” But it came out much nicer, a simple, slightly sweet, “yes, adoption, did you hear from the SW?” He said no. I kind of find that hard to believe that he is ultimate phone call taker and that all calls must pass through him, especially since I didn’t have a clue who he was. Anyway, he said (with ultimate wisdom, I assume), “it is Friday, maybe they’ll call Monday or Tuesday.” Wow, he’s winning points with me, NOT! So I called the SW who works (Tues-Fri 7:30-6:30) and left a message, she called back to say she called my agency and left them a message. I bet she called them before they even opened for the day. Bummer! Since she won’t be in Mon. I expect to receive a phone call from her on Tues. with a where do we go from here scenario. I’m kinda excited, but waiting for the next step. I am giving myself a good month for things to come to a head. Now I know it takes a while some times to get homestudies faxed, to review them, to set up a visit with the SW, to sign paperwork, etc, etc. I will keep you posted. Come on Tuesday!!!
News, and it aint bad.
Some News I Don’t Want to Hear
I don’t so much understand why friends of mine feel the need to inform me of extended friends of mine that are pregnant once again. I really am starting to dislike the TMI that comes along with it, like, “they weren’t even planning on having another one, I guess they’ll just call this baby Little Oops.” I just want to say, “why do you feel compelled to tell me this? I’m kinda going through adoption issues right now, and this isn’t helping.” I really don’t know how I’m going to deal with all these January births. One baby at a time I guess. Oh, I don’t even want to go there, too emotional. Hurry….change the subject!!!!
Funny Things
So here’s my comedy skit for the day. A while back an Asian friend of mine was asking another friend how to say certain colors in Spanish. She was telling him azul is blue (which I kinda thought everyone knew, but I digress), and that rojo is red, etc. He then said, “Oh, that one girls first name is Blanca and Lucy’s last name is White, I think from now on I’m going to have people call me Luke Negro.” To which I respond, “You want your name to be Luke Black?!?” He said, “Yeah, lots of people have the last name Black.” To which I respond, “Yeah, but they usually aren’t Asian!” He then looks thoughtful pondering this new thought. I think I was so outspoken mainly because I’m bi-racial (black & white), so the negro statement was a little alarming, though not insulting, I just realized he’s a dork (I think he may have some social inadequacies).
My second event was yesterday while making one too many visits to the local FedEx Kinkos (I really need to get my printer fixed). An older man came in with a shipment and told the little FedEx guy that he simply needed his John Henry on the form. It took everything in my not to a) start laughing until I peed myself a little and b) correct him and say, “I think you mean John Hancock, and the 70’s called and asked us not to use that outdated phrase anymore, thanks.”
“Be assured that if God waits longer than you wish, it is only to make the blessing all the more precious” ~ Unknown
Thanks go to Heather for posting this quote on her blog while she waits for little Elia to join them from Vietnam.
On the home front: I received a call from the agency a little bit ago for a 14 year old girl. Gosh! I wish I had the room to say yes. She lives in the same city as I do and the social worker didn’t have the paperwork in front of him to know what ages everyone was interested in. It’s a bummer when you can’t do all that you would like to do. I am still so happy every time they call because I am reminded that it is just a matter of time before they call me with a “real” placement.
I am nesting in overdrive lately. All my laundry is done, dishes are clean and put away, carpet is vacuumed, toilets are cleaned, clothes are washed and folded, diaper bag is packed with almost everything except for age appropriate items, groceries are purchased (kid friendly ones, of course). I have created, re-created, checked and re-checked lists for everything I need, might need, have, don’t have, want to have, etc. It’s crazy, but I need to feel somewhat on top of things so I can let things go to heck for a bit and not already feel like I am behind, maybe in laundry or house cleaning. Silly, I know, but it’s a coping skill.
Life is it’s own mirror
So I just read a blog that is by far the most well written collection of thoughts I have ever happend upon. The author’s name is Larry and his experience in the foster care system is almost unbelievable. It is one of those cases you typically only read about and think, “oh how sad”, and then you turn the page and read another article, quickly forgetting the information that just passed before your eyes. As I read his experiences I started to reflect on the sibling groups my agency called me about earlier in the week. I get all emotional about it, hoping they are sent to a foster home (fh) where they get bedtime stories and goodnight hugs. Someplace where they are served yummy snacks and get to take trips to the park. A home where they feel whole and complete. I did not do not want to be simply a stepping stone for any child or children. I don’t want a placement where I have the feeling of “when are they leaving”, or “when do I get a baby?” I refuse to be their forgetful bump along the road as they get many more placements after me. I want them to be happy and silly and to be able to act their age instead of reliving times of abuse, neglect, saddness or confusion. I was never the person (at the beginning I should clarify) who thought I would adopt so I could save a child. I never thought, “God has chosen a child for me to help.” I never felt this was my ‘mission’ or plan. I knew when I was 12 that I wanted to adopt. Plain and simple. From spending the last 13+ years teaching I love helping children. I love having a class full of the ‘bad’ children that no other teacher wants and I love seeing them thrive. I love guiding them to success. I know I can make a great difference in a child’s life, I already have on so many occasions (at least that is what the parent’s tell me). But now I feel torn again. Do I want to be a change more than a mom or a mom more than a change? Is there a difference? Can I embrace a, perhaps, “part-time” child into my home leaving my own fears and worries at the door and treat them as family when they may leave in a matter of days? Can I put my heart on my sleeve and not be crushed when if it’s broken or bruised or scarred or wounded? Can I be mommy for a week or month or months and not feel like a failure if ultimate success does not happen for that foster child? If I have a placement or sibling group that returns to their original home will I feel responsible if they do not experience greatness after all I have done. If they are back in the system within weeks and I do not have room to take them in will I feel as though I have failed them and taken some sense of stability away from them? Can I allow myself to love a love greater than I have yet to experience without concern for what the future holds? Can I live each day completely, wholly, fully, while letting down my defenses? Can I give of myself to more than one child and/or sibling group and not allow that to somehow ‘ruin’ me and make me desinsitized to the saddness of a child leaving or being taken away? Can I be strong for a foster child (fc) both emotionally, physically, and spiritually while being weak enough to love a saddened soul? I don’t know. I wish I knew definate answers, maybe then I would be a better person or more prepared. I don’t know what zero to motherhood feels like. I guess I won’t know until it happens. I spent the last few days pondering, visualizing, and thinking about the what-could-have-beens. I know I do not have room for any other mix than that of an infant and a child. I know I do not have the set up for a sibling group of two older (in the sense that one was not an infant) children. Still, I was thinking about it. I think the almost reality helps. I am able to see how life would work out. Again visulazation is not real life, but it’s closer than nothing at all. Then I read Larry’s blog and wept. I know, again!!! More tears, I thought I ran out of those, apparently not. I digress, I read Larry’s blog and it really solidified what I want and what I would be open to, what I would be happy with, what I would want to call “my family” or “my children”. As much as the frequently moved fc wants a familiy to call their own, so does this foster mom. I want to say, “my son,” or “my daughter” and actually mean it, not put quotes around it to drive home the present unreality of that statement. I want to be done with this process. I would love to scream that from the hilltops, however I know I’ve only just begun. I’ve yet to experience visitations, and court hearings and social worker visits and all the many more things that I don’t know that I don’t know. So again I state in my blog, here I sit. Waiting (more patiently than usual) for word. Waiting for my agency, waiting for a placement. Waiting for people to get their heads on straight so someday we won’t need the foster care system. Waiting for “my family” and “my children” to be free of the quote marks. Waiting to post pictures and scrapbook memories for a child or children that will hopefully have their last placement when I pick them up (wherever that may be). Waiting for time to pass and praying for inner peace. Thankful for yesterday, today, and tomorrow. Thankful that I have a family, my mother, to call my own seeing how rare that can be today and seeing as some children can wait 36 years for that to become their reality. Thankful that I can make a difference in the life of a child. I see that as a blessing and I think I can choose to take a hold of that with all I have in me. I can give fully, completely and wholly to making a difference in the life of a child. I can pour my heart into that, that can be my mission, that can be my plan and my purpose. I can be the best difference that child(ren) has/have expereienced. I can make that difference positive, loving, silly, peaceful, educational and fun. I know I can do that. This may seem like a short period of time to feel the intitlement of figuring it out, but typing through my emotions I feel like I found my avenue for success. I don’t need to be the best mom or have the best fh. I don’t need to have the softest footy pajamas or best bedtime stories. I don’t need to have the newest car or most comfy car seat. I need to do what I can do with my eyes closed and one arm tied behnd my back. I can always will always be able to make a positive difference in the life of a child. I have been doing that for years and loved every minute of it. And trust me, it was no walk in the park. But I did it and I had fun and it wasn’t that hard. So my footy pajamas may be itchy sometimes and my car seat may not work so great for road trips and my bedtime stories may be a little too long, but what I give will be pure and true and it will make a positive difference in the life of as many children as it needs to until there is no more breath left in me. That is my vow to myself and I know I can live up to that without any worries.
Thanks for being a part of my journey and if you have any new mommy advice, please feel free to share. 
As always, you’ll know when I know. Hoping Monday starts the week that will change my life forever.
~Melanie
(Again spell check is on the fritz, please excuse my typos.)
My Agency’s Phone Works
I was starting to think there was a problem with their line. Actually I realized I made an assumption. When I was told that I was the next person in line for a social worker to do my homestudy I assumed that I was also the next person in line for a placement. Here I am, a little over a month later, and I’m finally getting calls from the agency. Yesterday it was for a sibling group g4, b7, but they needed to be in separate bedrooms. I only have one extra room and the gal from the agency was quite surprised I didn’t have bunkbeds. I wanted to say, well, if the social worker who came for the walk-through took more than 15 min., he would have actually seen the room and known what my set-up was. I told her I had a crib and a twin bed, and somewhat unbeknownst she said, “oh, so you want a baby?” To which I said, “yes, as young as possible or sibling group where the oldest is younger than five and the youngest is under 2.” She said, “I better right this down.” Wow, ya think?!? Then today I get a call for a g3, b4. The g has down syndrome and they need visitation in San Fran., more than an hour away! I almost said yes and then I realized, again, I only have one bed and a crib. To which this guy (another new person I’ve never talked with before) said, “oh so you need an infant.” I nicely responded, “I do, I’m sorry I don’t have room.” He then had a small power trip and said, “we definately can’t put one of them in a crib.” My response was, “Ummm, I should hope not, the youngest is 3 years old! Thanks though, and sorry again.” Wow, first off, more people need a sense of humor and secondly, why is it so hard to keep your records straight and make a note that this chick here doesn’t have two beds no matter how much you ask? I’m honestly just glad to be called. I’m kinda bummed I’m not able to help with some of these older children, but I’ve waited so long, I really don’t want my youngest of two children to be 3 or 4 years old. I now know to keep my cell phone strapped to my side. Yesterday I missed the agency’s call because my phone was in my friends trunk and I didn’t hear it ring. By the time I called them the gal told me about the sibling group and then got back to me about another child that was availble, but they had been placed already. I’m just glad I didn’t know how old they were. I think I would have been distrought if they were really young and I missed out on a placement because I was hanging out with a friend and unprepared to answer my phone. From what I’ve heard I should be somewhat grateful to be getting called so soon. Some families have taken months if not close to a year to get calls for placement. It’s one of those situations where you don’t want a child to be taken away from their family, but if it needs to be done then at least I want to be part of the solution. Thanks for letting me ramble. I’m excited to think that I could be sharing great news very, very soon.
(Spellchecker wasn’t working for me, hopefully the typos are few and far between.)
Maybe I’m done grieving
Wednesday was a bad day. My advice for the rest of the adoption world is to steer clear of youtube and searching for ‘adoption videos’ when you’re in a funk…it’s just not a good idea. Although there are tons of cute ones, they will make you cry. It’s even worse when I see online blog-friends’ and their video journey documented. I realize as emotionally taxing as it was to change countries from Guatemala to Vietnam I grieved the process. It seems silly to even be sad about it. My thought is that if you have never gone through it, it would never make sense to you. However, a lot of preparation goes into choosing a country. I chose Guatemala for some many reasons: the race of the children and the beautiful surroundings of the country, the climate, etc. I wanted to experience the weather, smells, sounds, language, music and everything that made Guatemala the beautiful country it is. When I chose/had to change countries (for financial reasons) I spent weeks making a decision. I chose Vietnam. I wanted to learn the language and experience the differences this country had to offer. I looked forward to going to Ha Long Bay (I hope I spelled that right). I picked the airline I would fly on based on legroom and cost of the flight. I spent days upon days looking over flight paths, hotels, type of food, clothing style, weather, tourist attractions, etc. I embraced Vietnam wholeheartedly. I prepared myself to have a Vietnamese child. I bought clothes, both for the baby-to-be and myself. I waited for paperwork to be cleared by INS and I packed suitcases in dry runs to prepare for the big day. I knew I was adopting from Vietnam. I knew I would be traveling on a plane for hours to meet my child in a country they knew only as home. I knew I would be warm as I carried my child close to me and walked down the busy streets of Vietnam during a random humid day. I knew I would experience food, smells, and a culture unlike anything I had ever seen. I knew I would spend days if not weeks in a place so far away from where I call home that I would have to prepare myself for the changes. I knew I would forever have to explain, sometimes at the most inopportune times, how my child did not come to me by some long arduous birthing experience, but their deliver was that of a slightly different one. I knew, as I had already experienced, that until celebrity fame of Vietnam adoptions died down I would explain that I was not choosing this route because of popular choice or to be like ‘Brangelina.’ I knew my child was going to be born in a country many hundreds of miles away and that I would soon see their photo for the first time and yet not hold their precious, tiny body until months later. I knew this was true for I had now embraced this path. This was to be my future. Now it is not. According to the agency, I am on hold for Vietnam, but I don’t believe I will revisit international adoption for some time. Financially it is just not an option for me (at least right now). So, in short, I realized I never grieved the loss of yet another country. Wednesday was difficult, and emotional, and sad, and frustrating. It’s hard to let go when you never wanted to in the first place. I think this is just starting to wear on me. Well, it’s been wearing on me for about a year! I felt better yesterday and I felt awesome today. I seem to be a little more resolved with the wait, especially since I don’t really have a choice in the matter. I have done all I can do. I have completed all the paperwork that could possibly be completed. I have a lot of adoption related and child rearing books to read, but I find it down right stupid to read a book on baby’s first year when I could get a placement of a 3-year-old. So hear I wait, telling myself I am content because that are few options left for me out there. I choose happiness because the alternatives are not pretty. I change my youtube search to Big Brother 8 (now that I am officially addicted). I read my Bible and pray for patience. I watch the travel channel and dream of trips to Greece with my mom and my soon-to-be-children. I hope that my plans for Thanksgiving weekend will need to be readjusted because with two small children it will be easier to take a road trip to see friends than a flight. I prepare, like I always have, by nesting and getting everything I can in order so when things go from 0-60 I don’t feel like I have an endless amount of things to accomplish. All in all I do what I am doing and I let myself be sad if need to. I refuse to let my tears keep me down. That brings us to my quote for today:
I am thankful today is today, I am glad tomorrow is tomorrow and right now, I am glad yesterday is gone.
