It's a Good Thing

I realized the other day that it's been almost 3 years since we filled out initial paperwork to adopt through the foster system. (3 YEARS!) If anyone had told me how absolutely crazy it would be, I would have

1. thought THEY were insane and

2. run screaming in the opposite direction.

But in thinking about it, I realized that something really wonderful has come from these three years.

Of course, I am a more patient person - willing to take my hands off the wheel now and again and realize that there are simply some things I cannot control.

More importantly, though, I have used this time to educate myself. I have read hundreds of books and articles on foster children, interracial adoption, abuse, RAD, ODD, autism and ADHD. I have read every foster/adoption blog I could get my mouse on which, if truth be told, has been far more educational than any of those books. I am grateful and humbled that these parents chose to share their lives and their struggles with the me. I soak up every word like a sponge.

In the last couple of weeks, we have been approached about possibly adopting two separate sets of siblings. In each case, one sibling had average, run-of-the-mill challenges you'd expect with a child in the foster system and the other sibling had so many troubling behaviors and diagnoses that we feared not only for their future but for our own if we were to adopt.

In each case, we declined to pursue either placement.

But I guarantee you that if those opportunities had been presented even a year ago, we would have snapped them up in a heartbeat. I was so "baby hungry" that I would have willingly signed up for a situation that would undoubtedly been devastating for our lives and out marriage.

I would have looked at a list of scary behaviors and pushed them aside, absolutely certain that we would love the child enough to heal their pain and make everything all right. If I've learned anything in the last 36 months, it's that love is not enough - that for some children, no amount of love and commitment will make a difference. That if you are scared by what a SW is telling you about a child (like a toddler being given adult medication to try to control their behavior, for example)- there is A LOT you probably aren't being told. (Not that the SW is necessarily withholding information, by the way, but that they are only as good as the information THEY are being given. And that sometimes even the best doctors are only able to scratch the surface of what's going on with a child)

Of course there was some sadness as we called our worker and declined to pursue either situation - sad for the children and sad that we had to make the choices we did, but far above the sadness was the knowledge that we were absolutely doing the right thing for our family. And there is a lot of peace in that.

And because of the passage of these three years, if we ever find the elusive child who is supposed to be "ours", I will be a much better mother and a well-educated advocate for them and whatever they might need.

And that's a good thing.

I'm here, I'm me, Get used to it.

A couple of months ago I took my other blog private and went screaming into the night.

Initially I went private because I thought a family member had found my blog. She seemed to know more about our foster/adopt journey than she should have. I found out, instead, that my sister-in-law had been oversharing with this family member (and half of my husband's hometown, apparently) when we'd specifically asked her not to. It was certainly painful to find that out, but in another way it was a relief. No sneaky readers. Blog unhidden. For a couple of days.

Until I discovered that a family in our county who already had both biological and foster children was being offered yet another child for adoption. A child with no biological connection to them or any of their kids. (A child WE had been approached about some weeks before.) Because THEY had a personal relationship with someone at D*C*F*S. While we waited childless for 2.5 years.

I mentioned this to a foster/adoptive mom friend in another part of the state, and she mentioned it to someone who is well-connected on both the state and national levels of a prominent foster parents organization. He was outraged at what had transpired and offered to file a grievance on our behalf with the state D*C*F*S office, and to come represent us at any meetings that might take place as a result.

So once again, I quickly made the blog private because I anticipated needing a place to vent everything out. But I decided quickly not to write about it. Even with a private blog, unless you know every reader personally, you still don't know who is actually there reading your words. I couldn't take the chance that I might reveal too much to the wrong person. So, no need for the blog to be private.

EXCEPT that before I could get online the next day to unhide the blog, I discovered that there was indeed someone reading whom I couldn't trust. I knew this person in real life - a foster parent in my county. She misinterpreted something I said and took it to mean that we might be offered the opportunity to adopt a child that she wanted. Rather than get any clarification or find out the truth, she instead freaked out and went racing to D*C*F*S to put a stop to it. Though she had no idea what she was talking about. I find it so ironic that this person was rah rah, Christian, "God will bring your child to you" until she had the very slightest inkling that we MIGHT be taking an opportunity away from HER, and rah rah Christian vanished. I still laugh about that sometimes.

Anyway, all of this happened in the span of a week or two. It was too much. So I kept the blog private and walked away for a while.

I thought about setting up a top secret blog that would provide anonimity. Even toyed around with one. But then I turned 42 and had an epiphany.

I am tired of hiding.

I am tired of watching what I say ON MY OWN BLOG so I don't offend anyone.

I am tired of worrying that someone from my real life is going to find my blog and be shocked about what I have to say.

I am tired of worrying that someone from my husband's hometown is going to find me here and start a whole new round of small-minded, small-town gossip about us. "Haven't you heard? They're INFERTILE!" and "Haven't you heard, they've been trying to adopt for almost THREE YEARS!" would quickly become "Haven't you heard? His wife is a SHREW!"

Fine by me.

I don't give a shit anymore. Yes, you read it right. I am 42-years-old and sometimes I use the word SHIT.

SHIT SHIT SHIT

Don't like it? Don't read it.

And oh by the way, to any local foster parents who may be reading - want to go racing to D*C*F*S with details from my blog? Don't bother. They already read it. They read my blog and oh by the way, THEY READ YOURS TOO! I know it for a fact. Did you really think they didn't?

(By the way, a big shout out to my local D*C*F*S employees reading this. Find us a kid yet?)

All that being said, it's also important to have integrity and play by the rules of the game I chose to put myself into. As a foster parent, I have agreed not to reveal identifying details and photos of any foster child. Period. Therefore, I won't be sharing any of those things here. Nor will I be setting up a secret decoder blog to share those things privately. Integrity is integrity. Period.

So here I am, back with lots to say and lots to share.

I'm here, I'm me, Get used to it.