This has been a trying week.
I recognize that this is true for many right now, and I am personally still processing the impact of the presidential election on my family, friends, and this great nation. I am praying and trying to work through what we can do as individuals to be positively productive, loving, and impact change.
And while this is relevant to our adoption, this is not a post-election post.
Instead, I want to share an update about the roller coaster ride we have been on over the last week. We chose not to speak about it with our family and friends while it was happening, because if there is one thing we have learned over the last year, it's that the adoption process is delicate and unpredictable. There were just too many unknowns at the time to feel comfortable sharing it. In the end, I think that was the right choice, as it allowed us to process each step privately as a couple, and to reflect and learn along the way.
Instead, I want to share an update about the roller coaster ride we have been on over the last week. We chose not to speak about it with our family and friends while it was happening, because if there is one thing we have learned over the last year, it's that the adoption process is delicate and unpredictable. There were just too many unknowns at the time to feel comfortable sharing it. In the end, I think that was the right choice, as it allowed us to process each step privately as a couple, and to reflect and learn along the way.
Last week, Justin and I were fortunate enough to spend a long weekend away together. I surprised him with a trip to Boston, without Eisley, and we had a fabulous time. Highlights include: eating way too much (cannoli! lobster rolls! seafood, oh my!), enjoying a local craft-beer festival, and exploring the Museum of Fine Arts during a unique overnight event (which included the honor of hearing Madeleine Albright speak. She is a witty, amazing spitfire). We reconnected as a couple and celebrated our eighth anniversary a bit early (it was on 11/9). We're so grateful to our families who took care of E while we were away; so thankful that you gave us the time and love her as much as we do.
Two days into our trip, while fighting the crowd at the beer festival, we received the bi-weekly email that WACAP's Haiti Program Manager sends to the families adopting from Haiti. I look forward to opening these each time they arrive; it's like unwrapping a small gift. They’re usually brief and include updates on families in the program and resources pertinent to adoption. Each time I read one, I feel closer to the children in the crèche and the other families also waiting for their family to grow. Since this process is so slow, I try to savor the emails and tuck away a bit of warmth each time.
This particular email included something I hadn’t seen before: a note about a few “waiting children” who were ready for a referral, but had not yet been matched with an available family.
This particular email included something I hadn’t seen before: a note about a few “waiting children” who were ready for a referral, but had not yet been matched with an available family.
A quick pause for context: a "waiting child" is a child who is "harder to place". This is typically due to a medical condition, "older" age (~6+), or because the child is part of a set or group of siblings to be adopted together. Also, these medical conditions tend to be defined differently in the adoption world than you may define it-- another topic for another time.
In this list was a child that caught my eye: an 11 month old girl with a medical condition that we know a bit about, but not much. I showed the email to Justin and both of our interests were piqued. I sent an email back to ask how we could obtain more information about her. We carried on with the day, heading off to get dinner.
We're buckled in on the roller coaster now. Here begins the slow tick-tick-tick upwards.
Later that evening, in the middle of wandering through the museum, we received an email that contained some basic medical details and family history, and one snapshot of a serious and sweet little girl. The picture was just a head shot; she clearly wasn't ready for the picture, and was clothed in a checkered shirt that was too big for her. She had glowing ebony skin and the most striking and bright eyes. (For confidentiality reasons, we can't share the specific identifying details or picture of her.) Also included was a stark caution from the program manager that if we chose to pursue her, there was no guarantee that we would get an official referral for her, as other families may also come forward for her.
Now, I like to think that we're fairly pragmatic people, and we understood this caution. But here in the midst of hundreds of party-goers, I was completely drawn to her, and couldn't stop thinking about this little girl potentially coming home to us. For our remaining days in Boston, we slowly peeled back the lid of this hope together, and I sorted through my feelings. Sadness for the circumstances that led to her placement in the orphanage. Excitement at the potential. Anxiety as I got ahead of myself and began thinking through logistics.
Tick-tick-tick...nearing the top of the first hill...
Next steps included me relentlessly reading about her medical condition (not a recommended step in the adoption process) and applying for a medical consultation to better understand the scant medical information we'd received (a highly recommended step in adoption process). We are extremely fortunate to live close to the UW Center for Adoption Medicine and quickly scheduled an appointment. Later in the week, we had a long and detailed conversation with an incredibly kind and patient doctor. When we hung up, we both felt more prepared to parent this beautiful girl and I emailed the program manager to confirm "YES, we are seeking a referral." (Underlying sentiment: Please, please, pleeease tell us this will go the way we hope!)
She responded confirming that it looked like another family may also register their interest. She mentioned that they'd been in the program longer than us, so they may be closer to a "regular" referral, and might choose to wait for that. Another agonizing day passed, and I was thinking that another family couldn't possibly come forward; this is our girl. I kept turning her name over and over in my mind. Her last name is a name that is in my family; this must be a sign, right? Her birthday falls on Thanksgiving this year; another sign? I was searching.
The next day brought news that the other family had officially asked to be included as a potential referral. My heart dipped a little. The agency would present both of our files to their social services team, who would then decide which to forward to the crèche. We waited some more.
The following evening, something spurred me to check my phone as I went to bed. The email had arrived: both families were great, both were sent to the crèche for review. The crèche picked the other family. She was not to become our little girl.
Here was the downhill drop; fast and furious and upsetting.
The last loop-de-loops this week were through a wide range of emotions: disappointment, sadness, and grief, but also extreme joy that this girl had found her family and these parents had found their daughter. In the end, this is what matters. I pray that the referral occurs quickly and that the rest of the process goes smoothly for them.
So, we'll just keep ticking along, continuing to wait. In reality, we know that a referral doesn't seem to occur until ~12-18 months after entering IBESR, and we've only been in IBESR for 3 months. Based on what we learned from this experience, we're discussing potentially updating our homestudy a bit, in regards to medical conditions. But, it looks like we have some more time ahead of us to endure the peaks and dips of this ride.
