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.