L-I-MBO

Aaaaahhhh! Our road trip to Niagara Falls (the Canadian side) and back through PA (Amish Country and Gettysburg) was just what we both needed. It was rainy and cold most of the time, but that didn’t stop up from doing what we’d planned to do. D explored the battlefields in Gettysburg while I spent a lot of time combing through antiques shops looking for treasures. Apparently I was successful because after ten days and almost three thousand miles, our rental car was literally packed to the gills when we pulled in our driveway. I truly don’t think I could have fit one more thing in there, unless I was holding it in my lap.

I missed a call from D**H**R yesterday. No message. I guess it was for a foster placement.

I did receive a note from my e-mail buddy at the State Off*ice just before we left. Apparently we are being considered for several kids including a sibling pair. No details, of course, so who knows if we’d be a good fit for any of them or if we’ll hear another word about them. Her advice? "Be patient."

Mmmmmmkkayyyyy.

Let the limbo continue. Gosh I wish I was still on vacation.

P.S. That is a seriously attractive photo of us, yes?

I needed that . . .

Someone from our G*P*S classes has found my blog.

She was kind enough to write earlier this week and introduce herself.

To be honest, my first thought was “Oh shit!!!” This is my little corner of the world where I can go to rant and rave and think things out. I wasn’t so much concerned about someone from “real life” finding out about this blog as I was about the fact that I might now need to edit myself from here on out, on the (increasing) chance that D**H%R might find their way to me. Because really, what’s the point if I can’t be honest here?

(Of course, for all I know everyone at D**H-R reads regularly. If that’s the case, “Hey y’all. Maybe when you finish reading this you could go find us a kid!”)

It’s funny. When I started this blog it was about infertility and our journey towards parenthood. I used my real first name with its’ unusual spelling, and of course included the fact that I live in Alabama. And let’s not forget all the photos of us. I never used D’s name or our last name of course, but I always knew that it wouldn’t be difficult to find me here.

But the only time I’ve ever hesitated to post something I wrote was last week. When I said I’d let a couple of calls from DHR go right to voicemail. Just before nice-person-from-G$P@S appeared.

I can only roll my eyes at the timing.

All that being said, nice-person-from-G__P^S really is just that. She’s lovely and supportive and has promised to keep my blog on the “down low”. I have no doubt that she will, and I am happy to now have someone in my area to compare notes with, get advice from, get to know better, and support.

She did let me know that she and the two couples she’s kept up with from our classes are all close to adopting the children who were placed with them.

Initially that just made me feel bad – that as we were chasing Mia around trying to get her to do her job, they were getting the opportunity to parent. I think that was the cause of a lot of the angry feelings that came up yesterday when I was listening to the girl at the hair salon going on and on and on about her plans to adopt through the state.

But you know what it also did? I re-lit the fire under me. It showed me that it CAN, in fact, happen for us and that if I just hang in there, it probably will.

So I think after our **trip, I will kick things back into overdrive. We’ve been approved for six months now, which means our state has to release our home study to any out-of-state inquiries. I guess I’ll expand our search and we’ll see how it goes.

Thanks for the jump start nice-person-from-G(P)S. I needed that.


** we leave on Saturday morning at o'dark-thirty for a ten-day road trip up through PA and to Niagara Falls. Can. Not. Wait.

Didn't

I was getting my hair cut this morning and the girl in the chair next to me, who was probably 25, started talking to the entire salon about how she and her husband were going to “start classes” to adopt. My stomach dropped a little bit, because I knew what was coming next.

“We’re going to adopt through D**H**R.”

She proceeded to ramble on the entire time I was there, certain that everyone was as fascinated by her story as she clearly was. Who knows . . . maybe they were.

“We do twelve classes and then it takes about a month to get approved, and then usually a month or two to get a child.”

“You can choose what kind of child you want, but I’m not going to tell them what I want – I’m just going to take what they give me.”

“But twins would be fun. Or TRIPLETS!!!”

“My friend got a call from the social worker saying she had an hour to get to the hospital to pick up her baby. I hope that happens to me. I’ll be nervous every time the phone rings!”

I sat there pretending to read my book, not saying a word.

My first instinct was to tell her to run for her life. Of course I would never do that. I am quite certain (or at least hopeful) that our bad experience is the rare exception rather than the rule.

But I did wonder if I should tell her to take nothing for granted when it came to her home study – to stay on top of the situation and MAKE SURE that her social worker did her job – or that months and maybe even years would pass while she waited for approval.

In the end I kept my mouth shut. I decided to leave her with her excitement and her great hopes for the future. There was something about it that was very sweet, even in the midst of her loud obnoxious conversation.

But as I paid and left, I found myself feeling angry . . . angry that MY excitement and MY great hopes for the future were worn down and wasted by 18 months of laziness on the part of someone whose salary is paid by my tax dollars.

It’s just so ludicrous.

If D*H*R hadn’t found us to be appropriate parents, if we had failed to provide them with what they needed from us, if if if . . . I think it might have been a bit easier to take somehow. But we did everything there was to do. They never once had to ask us for anything in all those months. I’d already given them everything they needed. Our evil worker Mia once told us we were a social worker’s dream – solid marriage, no divorces, no other kids, good income, lovely home, no problems with the law, lots of family support. We should have flown right through.

But we didn’t.

We just didn’t.

And sometimes that makes me so angry.

All Over the Place

Boy oh boy – it’s exactly a month since I last had anything to say here. Time flies when absolutely nothing is happening on the adoption front.

It’s been a strange month for me.

First of all, I’ve started having occasional heart palpitations. They are no big deal, except when they happen! They definitely startle me for the second or two that they last. Neither my family doctor nor my cardiologist are the least bit concerned which is a relief. They think the palpitations, or at least some of them, could be caused by the hormone changes associated with the beginnings of menopause, especially since a couple of them have been accompanied by very mild hot flashes.

Unlike a lot of women, I won’t mourn the loss of my period. I tend towards a thick uterine lining which leaves me at greater risk for endo*metrial cancer. Thus, the large dose of pro*vera I take monthly to prevent that from happening. So once we decided not to continue IF treatments, I was fine with the whole system shutting down for good. I’m not willing to go through any procedure to MAKE that happen, though they are out there, but any time now would be fine.

Whether they are hormone related or not, of course I’ve been thinking about menopause and entering the “next stage” in my life. Part of that thinking has been about whether I want to add a child to our family any longer, to the point that I’ve let a couple of calls from D*H*R go to voice mail as I stood looking at caller ID. As it turns out, the calls were for foster placements where there would be no chance of adoption, so we didn’t miss out on an opportunity to permanently add to our family, but dang I’m confused.

What I know (almost) for sure is that we just don’t want to foster. We talk about it from time to time, usually after we’ve received a call for the placement of a child who either will never be available for adoption, or who is completely out of the bounds of our “child desired” parameters. It goes back to what we’ve always been concerned about when it comes to fostering. Perhaps it sounds selfish, but we aren’t in this to be a place for the state to “park” a child for a year or two. We’ve always been very clear that our intention is to add to our family permanently. I don’t know if we have it in us at this point to risk our hearts, or turn our lives upside down for the opportunity to parent a child who may be gone in a year. I just don’t know.

As for the rest, I just don’t know about that either. There are still a couple of irons in the fire as far as children we are interested in. We are definitely on board with seeing those situations through, and are committed to parenting those kids if the opportunity should present itself. When we see how those play out, which I hope happens by the first of the year, D and I plan to sit down and reevaluate to decide what we want to do. I don’t want to half-ass this. If we want to do it, I want to be 100% committed. Perhaps all I need it some time to recharge my batteries/enthusiasm. If we don’t want to continue, I want to sell or give away all of our baby/child items, and turn the child’s room back into a guest room with a small farm table for me to craft and scrapbook and quilt on.

Our social worker called last week to ask if I wanted to train to help teach G*P*S classes with her. I was so flattered, but didn’t feel like I could take her up on her kind offer. I simply don’t feel like I have enough experience with the foster/adoptive system to teach anyone anything at this point. I thanked her and asked her to keep me in mind again somewhere down the road.

I feel like I am all over the place with this post. Guess it reflects what’s going on in my head at the moment.

We are hosting a surprise party this weekend for my in-laws’ 75th and 80th birthdays. The small party I had originally envisioned has now grown to about 100 people. The most exciting thing is that one of my FIL’s army buddies from Korea is driving across the country to attend. CAN’T WAIT to see the look on his face! And on that note, I’d better scoot. I have a ridiculous amount of food to prepare.

Happy fall weekend everybody!

Proper Word Choice

I'm looking for just the right word to describe the following situation. Perhaps you can help.

Our home study was completed 19 days ago. I spent the better part of yesterday filling out paperwork required by D*H*R to REAPPLY for our foster/adoptive parent status, as our initial paperwork is two year old.

The following situation is:

A. ridiculous
B. assanine
C. ironic
D. amusing

Adding to yesterday's hilarity was the letter we received in the mail from Old, Bad County. They are so pleased to learn of our interest in being a foster/adoptive parent and have invited us to an orientation to prepare us for our ten weeks of G*P*S classes. D handed me the opened letter and said, "Here, this sounds like something fun you might enjoy doing!"

Would it be SO bad if I took a big red marker and wrote "Bite me!" across the letter and mailed it back to them?

Change of Seasons

I look forward to this weekend each year. D plays in the club tournament at his golf course, and I get my boxes of fall decorations out of the closet and go to town. Never mind that it's usually 90+ degrees outside. And that autumn is still a ways away. Today I splashed fall from one end of my house to the other. It is officially overly-decorated. (Frankly, it looks like autumn threw up in here.) I love it.

The last few years I’ve marked the passing of time in our quest to become parents by these little bits of fall color I reach for each August.

I remember getting all this stuff out about four years ago and wondering if the next time I opened those boxes, we’d have a little one in our home or if I’d at least be pregnant.

I remember putting away the fall leaves and pumpkins and bittersweet vines two years ago, thinking, “We just finished our G**P**S classes! Surely we’ll have a little one by this time next year.” Talk about anticipation!

Last year, I suspect I was flinging pumpkins hither and yon, just trying not to think about how much I loathed our worker, her supervisor, and the entire foster/adoption process.

But this year was different. As I hauled the banker’s boxes into the front room and began to unpack my treasures, a couple of things crossed my mind.

I wondered if we might not have a child in our home by the time these fall colors were packed away in about three months. We have a couple of irons in the fire – nothing concrete of course, but maybe . . . just maybe.

I also thought that if we didn’t have a child come next August when the boxes came out of hiding again, that we probably never would, and believe it or not I’m good with that.

So I guess it remains to be seen.

This time next year will most of my decorations remain safely in boxes, away from little toddler fingers?

Will an older child dip into my box of fall goodies and scurry off with an armful of color to decorate his/her room?

Or will I spend the afternoon as I did today . . . with a scary movie running in the background (“Signs” was today’s choice), thoughtfully trying to decide where each and every wreath and pumpkin and vine would look best, waiting for D to come home and tell me how pretty it looks?

I really don’t know, but I suspect that these coming 365 days will tell the tale. And Heaven knows I’m more than ready for this tale to be told, one way or another. But the nicest part?

All three options make me happy.

Amen

One completed home study, in need of a few easy corrections, in my hot little hand.

As I said just a moment ago on Face*book, this is proof that there are still miracles. And no, I'm not being facetious. To me, after all we've been through, this is an absolute miracle.

Amen.