65. The Waiting…Still
I just realized I’ve been off the blogosphere for almost a month. Where has the time gone? I’m honestly not sure. But what I am sure about, is that we’ve still been waiting.
Our adoption process has been up and down. That feels like an understatement, but it is a literal explanation of what it’s been. For a while. it was involved and fairly linear. We went to training. We filled out our application. We signed a million agreements and release forms. We filled out a million documents. We began our home studies. We updated things in the house to meet state requirements. We created a registry. We were approved and began the match process. We were matched with our girls.
And then, the process became un-involved and un-linear. We went from having nine million things to do to simply sitting and waiting. We did anything we could think of to help us with the anxiety of sitting still and not hearing any updates. We talked to their foster mom. We returned things from our registry and got new things that would be more suitable for our kids and their ages. We researched therapists and pediatricians. We attempted to start registering them for school but couldn’t really do anything without the paperwork that we were now waiting on.
We were told we could realistically expect progress to happen by this date, and then that date was pushed back. Then we were counting on the new date as the date when everything would change, and then that date got pushed back. We learned that, anytime we were told that something might happen by X date, we shouldn’t get too attached. And yet, we also should be prepared for things to happen by that date, just in case.
Our friends and family would constantly ask us for updates, and I started becoming weary of sharing. I used to love sharing updates and love their interest and investment in the process; now, every time I shared, it reminded me of how frustrating it was constantly having to adapt to this timeline and then that one and simply not being sure of anything at all. It would remind me of this pain in my heart of knowing who and where my kids were and missing out on yet another day I could spend with them.
It was so frustrating because everything felt so out of our hands. Obviously, there were certain things that were out of our hands, no question. We couldn’t control the speed at which the states processed the transfer of custody and all other paperwork. No one could. But once that came through, we continued to feel very much in the dark about next steps. Our agency would have meetings with the girls’ agency, and we would be updated about what happened in the meeting but then there would be 5 new questions that emerged from each meeting, and those questions would then have to be answered before we could move forward. Then, we’d be invited to participate in a meeting, but that meeting would get cancelled or the people whose input was most valuable had accidentally not been informed about it. Meanwhile, the days and weeks turned into months, and summer is halfway over and we’re coming ever closer to the first day of school and we are stressing out constantly over whether or not the girls will be home in time and how they’ll adapt to moving in with two strangers in an unfamiliar home in an unfamiliar town in a brand-new school. While well-meaning people continue to say that even if the girls have to start school late it won’t matter in the long run, we know that with everything in the girls’ lives turning upside down, the one thing we would love to give them is to start the new school year on time with the other kids and not have to be both the new kids and the new kids that start late.
I know not many people have gone through something like this, so I know most people don’t really understand what it’s like to be in the trenches of this. I don’t expect anyone to know the perfect thing to say or the perfect way to support us, and that’s totally fine. What I ask is for people to simply be open minded and empathetic. These are our children that we’re not with and have no control over when we will be with them. Imagine your child being away from you, and you have no idea when you’ll get them back, when you’ll be able to talk to them next, and you have absolutely no control over the timeline of when you get them back. It’s crazy to imagine, isn’t it? While I appreciate that people are trying to help by saying that “this won’t matter in the long run,” I do ask that people would pause and reflect on whether you’d want to hear that if you were in this situation. After all, we know that this will be okay in the long run. Of course we know that. And yet, our pain is real. Our heartache is real. No amount of cognitively knowing this will be okay in the long run can make up for these days that we’re missing with them.
It’s also been SO EXHAUSTING. I’m constantly battling whether I’d be better off spending my waiting time relaxing and enjoying quiet, alone time while I still can, or being out with friends and having fun as much as possible. Overall, when I reflect objectively, I think I’ve done a good job at balancing both. But in the day to day, I constantly question whether I’m making the right decision. As if there can be a right decision. As if there’s a manual and proven “right” decisions for a time like this. But we’ve arrived at a time when literally everything is on a week-by-week basis. So, I don’t make any plans for a week, waiting to find out if we have any next steps, and then when I learn that we aren’t moving forward yet, I spin around in my thoughts wondering if I ought to reach out to people to make plans or just enjoy the time to myself. It’s exhausting and frustrating, and I never know if I’m doing it right. Again, as if there is a “right” way.
But then, there is excitement. There is joy and gratitude and anticipation and wonder at what our lives will look like. Sometimes there’s panic, realizing there will be children in my house soon and what in the world have I signed myself up for. There’s anxiety wondering if the kids will like us and how often they’ll say, “You’re not my real mom.” There’s anxiety wondering if there will be a honeymoon period or if things will be challenging right away. I’m not sure which I’d prefer, to be honest.
It frustrates me when people try to give advice who have never been through this before. We have a really great agency that gives us the support and resources we need. We both see therapists who help us process our feelings through the transition and challenge us to support ourselves and change our thinking patterns as needed. Other than that, we don’t need advice from friends and family. We just occasionally need to vent freely, then we’ll be okay.
As I share my feelings through the waiting process, please remember that I’ve signed up for this. I chose this path on purpose knowing there would be many challenges. Sure, I’ve been learning so much and there have been unexpected surprises and twists along the way, but this is all part of the process I chose. I’m not asking for pity or for anyone to feel sorry for me; I’m just being honest about how the experience has been and trying to help educate anyone who’s interested in learning more. I’m trying to break stigmas and assumptions around adoption, particularly adoption from foster care, because it’s something I’m passionate about. Don’t fret over whether you’re saying the perfect thing, because it’s your heart that matters more. And yet, if you do say something ignorant or unhelpful, just own it and learn from it. That’s all anyone can do. We’re all just humans doing our best. You may feel uncomfortable at the vulnerability someone shows when being honest about their struggles, and that is natural and understandable. But recognize whether you’re offering help and advice because you think the person genuinely needs it, or because you feel uncomfortable.
So, we’re still waiting. Hopefully not for much longer, but we’re at a point where days feel like years. 20 years from now, I know this season won’t matter. But today, it matters. Both are true. Both are valid.
