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.
