Domestic Adoption

I recognize that last week's post was a bit on the personal side. I expect that I will talk about our  support system throughout posts in the future, but I suppose for me that was just a bit of a needed catharsis; a chance to re-center and pray over the challenges we are working through.
Never fear, what's on my mind this week isn't quite as heavy! 

Disclaimer: This post includes some facts and statistics that we've found particularly interesting, however I am clearly not an expert in this arena. I mean, we all know that the internet tells no lies. But, I encourage you to dig into the items that are of particular interest to you--I've included a couple of links at the end to sources that I believe are helpful and reputable. 

"So, are you looking locally? Or internationally?"

Many of you already know that we are pursuing international adoption.
However, this is one of the most common first questions we've received when talking about our adoption plans, and was one of the first decisions that Justin and I worked through together, which did not come without quite a bit or research and discussion.
I thought it might be helpful to share a bit about both sides of the coin.

For any of of you that know me, you know that I geek out over Excel sheets. The clean and stark organization of cells and rows and columns helps me to gather my thoughts in a way that reduces anxiety, and I often turn to a blank Excel sheet to capture pros and cons, draft a to-do list, or gather other bits and baubles into one, neat space. I've even been known to create lengthy spreadsheets to plan vacations (I've backed off of this now, I swear, and really just try to enjoy vacation time). 

Anyway, we're only a few months into our adoption journey, and I think I've only created three or four sheets so far. Not too bad!  
With that, I'll give you a peek into some of the key factors that came from these lists and discussions:

• Monetary Cost
• Emotional Cost
• Time
• Available Children  

In this post, I'm just going to talk about our initial research into domestic adoption, specifically through foster to adopt. Independent domestic adoption was not really of interest for us, as we are not intending to adopt a newborn, and this seems to be the typical independent adoption scenario (although not always).


Fact time! 

• Somewhere from 200,000-250,000 children enter into the U.S. foster system each year
• There may be around 400,000 children in the foster system at any given time 
• Of the estimated 1.8 million adopted children in the U.S., 37% came from foster care. 
• Not all of the children in foster care are available for adoption. The goal of our foster system is not adoption, but to reunite these children with their guardians, or relatives, ensuring that they are returned to a safe and stable situation. A noble and highly challenging cause. 

So, back to the factor list:

Monetary Cost
Adopting through the foster system is much less expensive than other options. Some estimates I've read are around $3,000, and there is typically some sort of support from the state, for childcare, etc., prior to finalizing the adoption. We are blessed to have stable and consistent paychecks, but as we are budgeting for the future of our family, this was certainly appealing.


Emotional Cost
Once certified as foster parents, a child would be placed in our home who would likely, eventually, be available to adopt. However, going back to the earlier note about the intention of our foster system, this is not a given. This means that we may have a child in our home for a very short time, before a relative/guardian is available to take them back. Or, the child may be in our home for years, and we are working through the legal system to complete adoption, and that relative/guardian pops back up and reclaims the child. Just the thought of this hurts my heart, for us and for the child. Bonding to an adopted child holds its own unique challenges, and I cannot imagine how these children struggle to learn to understand who to rely upon and where there stability will come from. 

This raised many questions for us on how we could work through this with Eisley: How do we explain to her why her (soon to be) sibling went away? How do we help her understand that this is okay, that they are loved so much, and going to be where is best for them? How do we help her to understand that this won't happen to her? 

Many, many foster families do this every day and I truly wish I could look each of these parents in the eye and thank them for their selflessness, compassion, and dedication.
  
Time
The length of time it can take to adopt through foster care is variable, and can be dependent on what is occurring with the child's guardians. So, like international adoption, there is most certainly a wait, sometimes substantial, before adoption is finalized. On the flip side, we would be blessed to have the child with us during this waiting period; loving on them, creating memories with them, and bonding with them. 
The other piece of this is the time it takes to work through the legal system to finalize the adoption. As I mentioned, there are myriad opportunities for a relative or guardian to come forward and attempt to claim the child, and this adoption process often requires going in front of the court (sometimes many times) as the guardians continue to fight for custody, etc. 



Available Children
Children available in foster care are often "older" -- the average age of a waiting child is about 8 years old. This is not to say that younger children are not available, but younger children are more highly sought after (in both domestic and international adoption). The means that limiting the age range you are interested in adopting to younger children only will often make the wait much longer.
I have a couple of friends beginning the foster process, and both have shared with me that they originally wanted to foster only younger children (up to around 4 years old), but eventually widened their window of availability to 7 or 8 years old in order to have a better chance at bringing a child into their home sooner. 

Ideally, Justin and I would like to be prepared (haha, prepared!) to apply the knowledge we've gained so far as parents (haha again! I'm so funny!) to a child in a similar age group as Eisley, so are looking for up to 3 years old or so, at time of placement. 

Available children are of various gender, racial, and socioeconomic backgrounds. The common thread between children in the foster system is one of familial strife--they have been removed from their family situation due to their parent or guardian's inability to care for them.

In Closing
Looking back over this post prior to pressing "publish", I fear that bucketing this out in this manner may appear a bit cold and detached. Please know that in every step that Justin and I have walked so far, we have been on a roller-coaster of emotions. I cannot count the "but, if"s and "well, maybe"s, and "I know we already talked about that; can we talk about it again?"s we've traversed together.  
Trust that none of our decisions are being made lightly, or independent of research, discussion with others, and prayer. We have the utmost respect for any others that have experience in this realm, and the choices they have made (whether same or differing). 

I think I'll pause for now, and pick back up again in my next post to contrast this to international adoption. 
Feel free to share your knowledge/thoughts/questions in the comments section. Thanks for reading, and until next time, cheers and blessings! 



Resources of note:
https://aspe.hhs.gov/report/adoption-usa-chartbook-based-2007-national-survey-adoptive-parents?id=1
https://davethomasfoundation.org/adopt/about-foster-care-and-adoption/

One Step at a Time

This week I attended a coffee tasting at work, not an uncommon occurrence, but our sVP hosted and shared a story that really resonated with me, and got the blog-wheels turning this week. 
Allow me to digress for a moment and set the scene--I swear this is connected:

This leader is highly charismatic. His presentation style feels conversational and relatable, a welcome departure from some of our leader's "execu-speak". He recounted a personal story about a scuba-diving trip with his sons. It was a new adventure, and he wanted to put on a courageous face in front of the boys. As he began to descend underwater and adjust to breathing through the regulator, he panicked, and realized he could not do this. The dive instructor swam over to him, framed both hands around his goggles in order to stare him straight in the eyes --fully connected--and said "You are okay. Breathe. You are okay." 

Eventually, staring into the instructor's eyes, he was able to calm, slow his breathing,

in...
out...
in....
out...

and descend.

Because he had someone with him, telling him that he was supported and to take it one step at a time, he was able to center himself and keep going. He was able to set aside his innate (and, in my opinion, totally reasonable) fear of being underwater--seemingly alone in the depths--and just be.  

I have not been scuba-diving before (I will happily stand on land and hold onto this rational fear, thank you very much), but I've watched a few episodes of Planet Earth in my time. 
I can only imagine the inimitable beauty that unfolded under the water, while gliding slowly through that great serene unknown. Knowing all along that there is support alongside you, as long as you take it one breath at a time.

The journey to adopt can feel a bit like those murky depths (see, here we are, tied back!): mountains of paperwork to complete and notarize; documentation to gather; and research, research, research. Oh, and not to mention making a decision in which country our child will be found. This beginning process is seemingly endless, and one mis-step can set us back (both in time and in money). But, I'm told the next step--the waiting, the lack of control as we depend on the trusted authorities to do their work--feels even more helpless.

All that said, Justin and I are certainly not the first to feel overwhelmed, uncertain, and a little bit scared of what is to come, nor will we be the last. We've each committed to completing 30-minutes of work each day: reading an article or completing a webinar, writing in our autobiographies or parenting resource plan, gathering dossier documentation making appointments...the options are endless.

And when the weight of this work begins to press down on me, and I cannot catch my breath, I have to try to remember to pause, pray, and breathe. There is great beauty ahead of us. We will get there one step at a time.

And, we need you to look us square in the eyes and remind us that this will all be okay.

Ohana means family

Hello and welcome! 

I anticipate that many of you have found your way here because you know us, but perhaps you have stumbled upon this page fortuitously. Either way, I thought it might be helpful to start with some introductions, and maybe share why we began this little blog.

Who We Are

Justin & Jordan: married since November 2008; parents of a boisterous, hilarious, and intelligent little girl, born in July 2014

Jordan: supervisor in a Human Resources center at Starbucks; the main voice behind this blog

Justin: graphic designer for a high-end cycling company

Eisley: aforementioned daughter. hobbies include: sorting small items; reading every book in the house 27 times; squealing with joy

My Thoughts About Adoption

I have always known that I would be a mom. I didn't really grow up imagining my wedding, and I never really knew what I wanted to be when I "grew up" (quotations used with purpose, as I would argue that I may never be all grown up). The only thing I knew, in the way that you know that your lungs will keep inflating and deflating without you telling them to, was that I would somehow be a mom someday. 

I imagined two children: one biological child and one adopted. I can't pinpoint where this idea originated--my family doesn't really have a history or connection to adoption (in the sense that we are pursuing) and I didn't grow up with adoption in my friend-group (that I'm really aware of).  I just knew in my heart of hearts that adoption was right for me.  If asked, I imagine my family would probably shrug and sort of attribute this to my spirit of humanitarianism. (And maybe "oh, it's because she just likes to do things differently than the rest of us. Sigh, she's just like that.")

In reality, there probably is a connection--in my life, I seek ways to serve or walk alongside those who are stigmatized and unheard. I also believe that there are so many children in need in this world, and I have a lot of love to give. So, if we have the ability to provide a loving, secure, and stable home to just one of these children, we should. To me, it is just that simple. 
Related to this, I've volunteered with a locally-based ministry called REACH for the last ten+ years and seen many, many beautiful versions of blended and adoptive families here. In some ways I've "grown up" with REACH, and watching these families grow has been a shining example of strong adoptive parents and children. 

I would also like to briefly mention one thing related to this now, that I have heard from those around us, both strangers and friends: This has never been about "saving" a child. The "hero" idea is a precarious pit and troublesome myth. More on that another time. 

Our Daughter

Anyway, fast forward many years, and I met and married my best friend and partner: Justin. We both thought we wanted two kids, and while we may have discussed adoption at some point in our early relationship, it was not something we dove into much together. After some years of marriage, we decided we were ready to begin the plunge into parenthood. Ten months and 28 hours of unmedicated labor later (a story for another time, if you wish to know), our amazing daughter joined the world. 

Justin & I had decided we wanted to enjoy one of the world's most delightful surprises, and chose not to learn our baby's gender while pregnant. So many people (strangers included) were sure that we were having a son that we had begun to believe this as well. Imagine our surprise when our little girl came out squealing! 

Parenthood has been the most challenging experience, ever. I know; understatement of a lifetime, right? Eisley did not begin "sleeping through" the night until she was nearly 8 months old and she is an extremely opinionated eater (most common opinion: ew, no), but she is healthy, so smart, and the light of our lives in ways that we never knew possible. She is loving, she is loved, she is incredible.

A Moment of Truth

This is where blogging is going to be a bit hard for me. I believe it's important to be clear and honest about some parts of me that I wouldn't normally share readily. They are personal. So, please be kind. 

I had difficulty with my pregnancy. Fortunately, medically, all was fine. But, I was nauseated for the entire pregnancy, all-day/every-day sick, and I will admit (with some embarrassment) that I did not enjoy being a pregnant lady. In addition to the sickness, I missed being in control of my body and former teenage body-image issues seemed to come flooding back from the depths that I thought I had banished them. 

After a long labor and delivery, and the challenges of the first few months that are inherent with newborns, I knew that I could not ever do that again. I'm not really prepared to go into all of this now, but I will say that no, I was not diagnosed with post-partum depression by a medical provider. However, in hindsight, I should have sought more help than I did, and I do not believe I can do that again, for myself or my family. 

Justin and I talked about this at length; and from conversation one, he has respected that it is my decision whether or not I can be pregnant again--it is my body, and my experience.  And I love him so much for this. So, for quite awhile, we thought, "well, we will have an amazing only-child. and that is what our family was meant to be"

Ohana

Then, after Eisley celebrated her first birthday, we began talking about adopting a second child. We were feeling like humans again. We had settled into a routine that worked for our family. We saw her at playgroup and daycare, and loved the interactions she had with other children. We began to revisit our "only child" decision.  It did take us some time (and for me, a lot of prayer) to make the "final decision". We knew it would not be easy--emotionally, financially, and all of those other "-lys", but we knew it was right.  

And this leads me back to this blog title.  Thank you Lilo & Stitch for saying it more eloquently than I could: Ohana means family. Family means nobody gets left behind or forgotten.

There is no "one" or "right" definition of a family. 

Justin and I know that our child is out there, waiting to be connected to us and to come home. We don't know exactly where they are or what they look like. But we know they are waiting and we have a lot of work to do to get them into our arms.

Up Next

I've had these words rolling around in my mind for some time now, and have struggled how to put them "to paper". I still don't think I got them right, but there is a point where I just need to hit Publish and call it a day.   This ended up quite a bit longer than I expected, so I think I will pause here, and pick back up again later (after a dance break and cup of coffee, probably).

Other things currently on my mind, for future posts: our choice to look at international adoption, versus national; announcing our "paper pregnancy"; the homestudy process we are currently immersed in.  

What else would you like to talk about?

I'm not sure that I can commit to a particular posting cadence right now, but I'm glad you're along for the ride. Questions and comments are welcome.

Blessings and Cheers,

J, J, & E