Emotionally depleted. That best describes how I’m feeling this afternoon. This has been such a long, brutal journey trying to add to our family, and I’m definitely feeling the effects at the moment.
For the first time in ages, I’ve been scanning through heart galleries and state’s “waiting children” websites. I’ve even inquired on several, knowing that if the kids made it onto those websites, they most likely have issues greater than O and I feel equipped to take on.
I’ve gotten quick responses to most to the inquiries and some interest, which is heartening. Our information has been plugged into the state website for 16 months and we’ve never received a call from them. We’ve inquired on probably 10 separate in-state kids’ cases and have received a response only one time. No “thank you for your interest but you’re not a match”. Nothing. So to talk to the out-of-state workers (actually TALK to them), and to have them seem interested in us being a possible match for one of their kids – it’s what’s keeping us moving forward at this point.
We’ve mostly hit dead ends with our inquiries thus far. The kids need to be adopted in-state, are too troubled, are already matched with another family, or are no longer available for one reason or another. That’s okay. I expect that. It’s like sending out resumes. For every 50 you send out, 2 or 3 of them might turn into “something”. Most go nowhere.
As for the Amy/Chris situation . . . . ugh . . . . I’m not even sure I want to think about it at the moment. We are in limbo, trying to gather information to see if we should even go to the court hearing.
If Amy still wants us to raise Chris, and if the judge has any questions for us, we should be there. BUT, the judge has already said that he ultimately can’t order D@F@C@S to place Chris anywhere. He can only order them to investigate us, and it’s been made clear that they have no interest in even considering us for him.
Unless every waiting family in their state doesn’t want him.
Then we “might” be considered.
Every time I even THINK about those words, well, I can’t even explain how angry it makes me. Who the hell do they think they are? (All powerful – that’s who they think they are. Know why? 'Cause they ARE!) We have put our lives on hold for six months because THEY begged Amy to find a family for her son. She did. We would walk through fire for him. And they don’t give a shit. Unless they can’t place him as easily as they anticipate and THEN we MIGHT be considered. Do you know how badly I’d love to call and tell them exactly where to go? Oh my. It would not be pretty.
So the point of that rambling was to say that I don’t think being in the court would make a difference. Even if the judge loves and adores us and would like to deliver Chris to our doorstep with a big bow tied around his neck, he can’t give him to us. D@FC@S decides, and they don’t want us to have him. Period.
There is a slight possibility that if it’s presented to the judge that D@FCS begged Amy to find a placement and told her that Chris could and would be placed there if it was appropriate, he might be able to intervene – or to at least make the workers very uncomfortable as they have to answer why Amy was either mislead, lied to, or given incorrect information. He just might MAKE THEM go forward because that’s what they told Amy they would do. But that would require an attorney who 1. had any idea whatsoever about the case and 2. gave a shit. Hers does not.
The other “if” in this equation is if Amy even still wants us to adopt Chris, or if we were contacted as a desperation measure when she was in the midst of crisis and thought D@FC@S was about to file for TPR at any moment. I truly don’t know. It was suggested that we call her and simply find out, particularly since the next court date is right around the corner. But I just don’t want to call her out of the blue. (She has no voicemail so I can’t leave her a message.)
Amy is very shy and nervous and I don’t want to catch her off guard with such a question. (It's not like I'm calling to find out if she'll sell us her car, for heaven's sake!!!) I’m afraid that if she is having second thoughts, or if she has changed her mind, she will feel pressured to tell me what she thinks I want to hear and not necessarily what’s in her heart.
So I am hopeful that I can get a note to her asking her to get in touch with us if it’s still her wish for us to raise Chris. That way, she can call if she’s still on board and if not, she has an easy, graceful way to deliver that message without causing her any fear or discomfort. I really do like her and don’t want to make life any harder for her than it already is, or to appear like I'm intimidating her in any way.
Today I want to walk away. I want to call our caseworker and tell her to shred our file, and then invite her out for lunch. I think we could really be good friends if we hadn’t met under these insane circumstances. I want to gather the contents of the entire filing cabinet drawer devoted to adoption and take it out to our burn pile and watch it go up in flames. I want to get rid of every single thing that we joyfully bought in anticipation of the child we’d soon call our own. I want to repaint our “kid’s room” and put up my farm table and my antique paintings and use it for a crafting/sewing/computer room. I want to call the adoption worker in Other State and let her know just how much agony her flippant “Oh Chris is still considered an infant and has no problems – he’ll be simple to place so we’ll keep him in-state” decision has caused – a decision that was made without knowing one single thing about us. I want to find Mark’s mother and tell her just what I think of her – of the things she exposed her child to – of the lie she told. I want to remind her that karma is a bitch.
In this moment, I want to be done. So very badly. I truly truly do.
