The Waiting Continues

So we've established that I'm not very good at waiting patiently. I like to be active... I like to get where I'm going (you should see me on road trips - it's scary).

So far, my activity has gotten me precisely nowhere. I will get on the internet and find a sibling group which catches my interest. I'll inquire... and inquire... and inquire... seriously - getting information is like pulling teeth long distance. And the system is... not efficient. After a month of trying to get info on one particular group of children, I finally got word that their status had changed and they might be going back to their birth family instead being adopted. Great for them if it all works out -- not so good for them if it's just game-playing and they end up right back where they started.

Anyway, I found out that there really isn't a good way to find out what children are waiting for homes. Yes, you can go to adoptuskids.org and find a number of children, but the children on there aren't even the tip of the iceberg. For example, if you do a general search on the website of children from North Carolina (where we live) you will find (today) 134 cases. But there are over 10,500 children in foster care in NC, about 1/3 of which need adoptive homes. That's a large number of children looking for a permanent family.

So, I did what any person who likes to be active and hates waiting would do. I made up a flyer telling about our family and showing a couple pictures of us... and I e-blasted it out to all 100 county DSS offices along with our info and our social worker's info. (I'll be she just loves me now, right?)

Long story short, I did that yesterday -- and yesterday our social worker got a call asking if we would be interested in adopting four boys. Aaaaand... we can't. First of all, because I value my husband's sanity - and secondly because we traded in the Venture (which would have seated that many children) for a Saturn Relay (which only has seating for 7). This effectively limits us to adopting a sibling group of three at the most. You have no idea how happy my husband is that he bought me that new car right about now!

But now, once again, I wait. And with nothing to do. Because I can hardly e-blast those poor people twice!

There's No Place Like... Home?

One of the things we can do in our quest to enlarge our family via adoption is to go to what they call "matching events." I went to my first one this week, and the experience is not one I will soon forget.

A matching event is where social workers bring "waiting children" to meet "waiting families" in the hopes that a family will fall in love with a child they met and pursue them through their social worker. This particular event was a little bit like speed dating, actually. The children sat at tables, and the prospective families were to sit and talk with the children until the organizer of the event told them to switch tables and talk to another child.

I left there with a broken heart. The children at this event ranged in ages -- the youngest being about eight and the oldest being around sixteen. I met kids who have been a part of the system for a while... who came to the event with the attitude that this event would be just like all the others - nobody wanted them before and nobody would want them now. For some, this was the first time they had come to an event and you could see in their body language excitement and a determination that they were going to find a new family today.

For some, the experiences of their lives had left them shattered and broken with still no one to pick up the pieces. For some, they had a sweetness that would not be quenched. And still others were doing their level-headed best at their tender ages to learn from the mistakes of their parents and never touch drugs, alcohol, etc... because they have seen what it can do.

But what struck me the most at this event was the number of children who actively tried to "sell themselves" to me. I had children tell me they don't eat much, they keep their area clean and neat, they don't drink, they want to be successful... I had children ask me questions about myself and then exclaim how much we had in common. There was not a child I met there who didn't merit a closer look.

Maybe it's that I have such an affinity for children that I found them all to be lovable in their own way... but I left there with the firm conviction that every child needs somebody to love them and call their own. And I cannot take them all.

The system is set up to remove children from the physically and/or emotionally dangerous situations life has dealt to them... but then they are further emotionally traumatized by the system itself. Can you imagine being a child -- relatively helpless, emotionally bruised, not knowing who or what to trust -- and having to go to events where you meet a number of families, pick your favorite, and find out that you're not going home with them, either?

Children are just short versions of all the rest of us. Put yourselves in their shoes... and what would you do?

Learning About Ourselves

You know, it's funny. I really thought that once I was finished with all the hoop jumping, things would get easier. You know, just sit back and relax while someone else does the work... I'm learning that this is not my comfort zone. I much prefer to be the one responsible for getting things done -- that way, I know exactly where we're at, I know the drill, I do what I can and there's very little waiting involved.

It was last weekend that I got online and did the one thing I said I would not do. I "shopped" for children. Yes, it sounds horrible -- and no, they're not on eBay. They are on adoptuskids.com, though... and you can browse children all across the fruited plain. I was just being curious, though. I wasn't shopping with serious intent. Until I saw these adorable little children who reminded me of a story I had heard... so I notified our social worker. It's Friday now and I still have no clue if these children have been placed. Hmphf.

I hate waiting. (This, to be taken as written, needs to be spoken in a slight Spanish accent as was done by Inigo Montoya in "The Princess Bride.")

But I realized something about myself in this so far. I have gotten married. I have moved across the country numerous times. I have birthed two children. I have changed jobs, churches, and various other ventures. Life has been full of changes for me, both big and small. But these changes have always been things over which I had some influence. I orchestrated the moves, I did the packing, I planned a wedding, and yes... I participated in the creating of the children. The only thing in there that I had very little control over was childbirth -- and, I must confess, with both of my pregnancies I was induced (probably because I got tired of "waiting," who knows?).

I have issues.

This is good for me, the waiting.

Sometimes things that are good for us are not fun or comfortable.

I'm growing up. I'm thirty eight years old, and I'm finally growing up.

Last Known Step

Tomorrow we jump through our last known obligatory hoop. CPR classes -- and then our part is over and we wait.

Whew! What's Next??

I have been receiving emails from people, wondering when I will post an update to the blog. I guess while the process seems to be going lightning fast to me, it doesn't necessarily feel that way to the people who aren't actually going to end the process with a larger family. H

We graduated from our classes yesterday. Diploma in hand, we go off secure in the knowledge that we can now handle any behavior that comes our way - we can handle ourselves in a therapeutic and proactive manner fitting to each and every situation. Ha ha, just kidding. But we really did graduate from the class. 

I took a lot away from those classes, actually. First of all, I learned how heartbreaking some little lives can be. I've really lived in a protected cocoon throughout my life. Certainly, I've had some heartaches of my own, but nothing like what these little people are dealing with. Then, I gained a new perspective on what it's like for a child who is in the system. The idea of being taken away from the only family you know, handed over to an entirely different situation and being told they are now your family (sometimes without even having the opportunity to say goodbye)... I don't know any adults who would handle that well, much less children.

We are now armed with some knowledge. We are now better prepared as to what to expect. This is good. Necessary, even, for a successful adoption to take place, I think. Understanding what the child(ren) has been through will go a long way in helping us to be patient through some trying times. 

Whew! 

We also were much relieved to find out that we have not contracted Tuberculosis since the last time we were tested. And the doctors decided that we were still breathing during our physicals, so that's always good. We have received proof positive that we have not been arrested in either of the last two counties in which we have lived. We have offered certified proof of our marriage. We have told our social worker many personal details of our daily lives. Fun conversations, those! Talk about a walk down memory lane -- I was able to recount, in some detail, just how much trouble I gave to my own parents as a child. 

We have our last home visit this week. And we're going to be certified to foster as well, so that means fire inspections, a safety inspection by our social worker, and (undoubtedly) more paperwork. It is not our plan to foster, but to adopt. Being certified to foster, however, was strongly recommended so that we can receive financial assistance while waiting for the adoption process to be finalized. 

So what's next? Beyond having copies run of our family's picture profile (a way for the children's social worker and, eventually, the children themselves, to be introduced to our family) I guess it's getting down to the "wait and see" part. This might be good... a little waiting can't hurt. It might even give us a little chance to relax. Call it the calm before the storm...

We finally did it. We took a deep breath, filled out our application, put our faith in God, and jumped in. We're going to adopt.

We're not going to adopt a child from China, Russia, Africa, or Korea. We're not going to adopt a baby. These children desperately need homes - and many kudos to the people who step out and provide one for them. But there's another group of children who need homes, and it is these children who are our focus. 

There are many statistics available on foster care and adoption in the United States. In 2006, a study was completed showing that at the beginning of the fiscal year, there were (approx.) 510,000 children in foster care. Of these children, 23% had the goal of being adopted rather than being reunified with their families. This means that about 120,000 children had a goal of being adopted that year. 

Children can enter foster care at any age - from infancy to 18. They can be any race. Out of that 510,000 in 2006, 40% of the children in foster care were white, 32% were black, 19% were hispanic, and 9% were multi-racial. 52% were male, 48% female. 

These are children who have been through a lot in their short lives. They have learned some methods of behavior for their own survival which might not make them very popular with others. They have learned that adults in their lives cannot be trusted, from their own parents on down the line... social workers, foster families, etc. Our system is such that oftentimes these children go back and forth between foster care and reunification with their families many times before parental rights are terminated, leaving them free to be adopted. Helpless and powerless, in some ways matured beyond their years and in others far behind in their maturity, they become a part of a system which inflicts further harm in spite of its effort to help. 

How can we, as a society, let these children spend their formative years with the idea that they are unlovable? For what other idea can we expect a child to have of themselves when they are bounced around from place to place, given new family after new family... with nobody to take them and love them just the way they are? How many of us can stand up proudly and say we are always, or have always been, lovable? The difference lies not in our ability to be lovable, but in the knowledge that we have always been loved in spite of ourselves. 

For some, the idea of adopting through the foster system is frightening because of the state's involvement in their family life. For some, it seems to be unaffordable (after all, we've all heard how expensive it is to adopt). But here are a few things I've learned so far on our journey:

It is possible to adopt from the foster system and use a private agency. The cost out of pocket is in the neighborhood of $1500 - $2000 for a home study - and all the other work they do to facilitate the adoption. Some (or all) of that out of pocket expense can be reimbursed by the state once an adoption has occurred. 

Adopting children from the foster system also allows you tax credits to help with the adoption expenses. Adopting "special needs" children allows you further tax credits. "Special needs" is not code for "most difficult." Some children are classified as "special needs" simply based on their ethnicity or the fact that they have to be adopted with a sibling. 

When you adopt from the foster care system, many children will be adopted with Medicaid for their health care and a subsidy to help with the cost of raising the child. 

To become certified to adopt, you have to take classes. You have to have a social worker in your home to perform a home study. You have to fill out loads of paperwork. You have to prove you have no criminal record. You have to have a physical. You have to jump through hoop after hoop after hoop. BUT... the classes are beneficial. I've only been to three so far and I've learned so much. The social worker comes and visits -- to get to know us. She's not looking for us to be perfect parents or complete neat freaks. But in knowing us, she can better match us to the right child. And while it seems silly to pay good money to obtain proof of that which I already know (I've never been arrested) it also makes good sense to require this. And a physical isn't going to kill me - no matter how much I despise going to the doctor.

So this blog is our journey. Comparing it to a road trip, we've got the car almost packed up and ready to go. Our certification will hopefully be complete by the end of this month. The excitement is there -- and also some trepidation. It is, after all, a big decision. We've packed up the car and are getting ready to go... and we still don't know the exact destination. 

Sounds strange... and exciting, doesn't it?