Adoption Update

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A very long time ago I mentioned devoting Thursdays to updates on our adoption process. Evidently, I’ve not done so. As of yet, there’s nothing I can report.

The paperwork lingered on a desk in my room. For some reason I couldn’t complete it without a clear picture of how I wanted our family to evolve. After a lot of time and experiences with a variety of children coming on weekends while their foster families take a break, I think I know what could work for us.

So the paperwork got done and delivered to my adoption worker. She’s in the midst of completing a few other homestudies. I’m now at the bottom of her list.

Shortly after that conversation, I received a letter in the mail from the supervisor of the adoption department. It was a general mailout encouraging me not to lose hope as I go through the process. She also mentioned applications will be expedited for those seeking to adopt older and/or special needs children as well as sibling groups. Being open to all three categories, I should find myself rocketing through the adoption process. In stead we’re lumbering along as though time is of no consequence. Children wait in foster care. I wait to go through the motions (since adopting Raine & Athena I have not become a convicted felon but still background checks must be made again in every city I’ve lived in). My daughters wait for new siblings.

The girls and I have an idea of what we want. I’m doing what I can to get us there. Basically it boils down to waiting with grace.

Canada’s child welfare system is a cumbersome system that moves at snail’s pace. Others have lost heart and abandoned the lengthy and often frustrating process of adoption through children’s aid. Some choose not to attempt it despite a desire to parent through adoption. Here I am wading into the water and trying to convince others to come with me.

It may be futile. It may come to nothing in the end. After being approved we may not ever be matched with a child or children. But as long as children in my own country need to be adopted, I can’t turn away. So I’ll keep waiting with grace.

Taking Care

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I tend to over explain things – adding details most people don’t care about. My kids, of course, are not most people. They’re endlessly inquisitive and want to know every single detail. They ask who the babies are that pop up on my facebook news feed. Most are from an Asian orphanage I follow. The organization seems to be making an amazing difference in the lives of children with special needs and medical issues.

The adorable children have prompted many conversations at my house. And now they’re inspiring Raine and Athena’s playtime. Athena gathers all the dolls pretending they’re orphans. Recently a foster child visiting for the weekend was playing dolls as well. She pretended to call Athena, asking, “Can you take care of my baby while I go to a meeting today?”

“Sure, if you bring her to the orphanage,” Athena answered. “This is where I am – taking care of the orphans.”

Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress and to keep oneself from being polluted by the world.

James 1:27

Raine, on the other hand, bounces around the house telling me of all the ways we can raise money to help fund adoptions for the kids in orphanages. “Everyone needs a mom,” she tells me. “Kids that don’t have one – we must get them one! It’s best to be out of the orphanage.”

I don’t think they fully comprehend that they were once orphans themselves. It’s not a label that’s used for children in Canada. And, thankfully, children here don’t end up in orphanages. But being foster children who were adopted, I think my girls understand on some level the reality of these children.

Raine has written a number on a scrap of paper – something like 1400. It’s how many kids she wants to see adopted. Every time the orphanage I follow on fb posts about a child leaving to be with their forever family, Raine puts a check mark on her paper. Maybe one day there will be enough to cancel out the number she’s written. That’s what she’s working towards. “All kids who need to be adopted, getting adopted that’s what I want,” she tells me with a passion that can’t be quenched while Athena carefully wraps the orphan dolls in blankets telling them not to cry because soon they’ll have a mom.

Are You Trying to be Nobody?

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The question caught me off guard.

Raine repeated herself, “Are you trying to be nobody?”

That Saturday morning I was trying to be exceptionally cheerful. We were supposed to go out for breakfast with their birth grandmother and cousin. But she’d had to cancel. Friends we were supposed to visit a farm with that afternoon had also canceled. I was still planning to take the kids out for breakfast and to the farm, but Athena woke feeling unwell. So we were staying home. Our day went from being filled with excitement to very drab. I was making pancakes and trying to convince Raine it was all ok.

“These cups!” she shouted when I failed to understand her. “Nobody drinks juice out of teacups. You’re trying to be nobody!”

The force in her voice gave the impression she didn’t much appreciate my attempt to be nobody.

“I like being nobody. I like to do things that nobody else does. Sometimes it’s best to be nobody,” I answered.

Thanks to a disgruntled 14 year old who trashed my house and kicked several

what we're drinking out of these days

what we’re drinking out of these days

holes in the wall, I’ve been reorganizing and redecorating. Sometime ago a friend was overwhelmed by all my dishes. I have two complete formal sets and one partial along with three everyday sets. She suggested scaling back but at that point I wasn’t ready. Her encouraging words returned to me recently. So I let go of my everyday dishes and replaced them with a partial set of formal china. The array of glass cups gave way to assorted tea cups. That’s what I was serving juice in on a very disappointing Saturday morning.

“These are beautiful!” Raine exclaimed, carefully handling the delicate cup. She was happy with the change though had sounded otherwise with her repeated question, “Are you trying to be nobody?”

The quest for individuality has always been a driving force in my life. It’s part of how God made me. Everything in me wants to go against the flow. The way I dress and decorate, the way our home is run, the choices I make tend to be counter-culture. I am praying other single, godly women step into adoption. In this area I don’t always want to be the only one. But for now, in my real-life world, I am. That’s ok. I don’t mind being a nobody.

Today and Everyday I Am Thankful

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today-i-am-thankful

Today is thanksgiving. There are many things I’m thankful for. My daughters, of course, and our amazing life. This year I’m struck by the family and friends surrounding us. In deciding to pursue foster care and adoption as a way of life, I counted the cost. I knew full well the sacrifice involved. Gladly, I lay down my own desires and pursuits in favour of parenting children I did not birth. Sometimes gracefully, sometimes not, I deal with problems I did not create – like prenatal exposure to drugs and alcohol. I do this because I’m compelled to fulfill the great commission in this manner.

This is not the ministry most of my friends and family have chosen. Still, by association with me, they are drawn in. It’s messy, challenging, and frustrating most of the time. It’s Christmas dinners served in my pj’s because my teenage foster child forgot to take her medication and I didn’t realize until we’d spent a horrific morning trying to get the turkey ready. It’s holes in my walls and knifed wallpaper (something my then 4yr old managed with a butter knife). It’s a child who takes her cough to the extreme, overpowering any conversations around the Thanksgiving dinner table. It’s buying gifts for children you’ve never met and may never see again. It’s me being tired and depleted all the time. It’s me forgetting to confirm whether or not I need you to babysit. It’s things like this that my family and friends are drawn into.

I’ve chosen this wonderfully unusual life. They haven’t. But I am eternally grateful that they have chosen to love me and all that I’m trying to do. I love that I have friends who choose to donate their time to my business. I have family who respond by saving, “It’s wonderful to have a full table,” when I say my friend’s three foster children will be joining us for Thanksgiving. I have friends who drop by with banana bread or a dozen buns when I suddenly find myself with two extra little ones. I have friends who invite us back after Raine has a complete meltdown – hitting her sister and informing all of us that I’m not her mother so she doesn’t have to listen to me. I have friends who come by in the evenings when kids are asleep because I really can’t get out.

When I chose this life, I didn’t consider what it would cost the people in my life. Thankfully they have been willing to pay the price for me to pursue the calling on my life. I am grateful for the support and encouragement they offer. I am grateful for their willingness to accommodate my unusual life. I am grateful that they consider it to be as wonderful as I do. Thank you.

Believing

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Two years ago I started a business, Believe bistro. The idea came in response to my older foster daughter wanting a job. Her intellectual limitations made typical teen employment – fast food or babysitting – impossible. During the five years I parented Sabrina*, I did my best to give her a normal life. So I launched a coffee & tea business – selling on-line and at local events/shows.

Sabrina loved counting out teabags and organizing the inventory. It was perfect for her. Then she grew up and left for a somewhat grown-up existence. Sabrina will always require the input and guidance of a responsible adult. My role as that came to an end last summer.

I’ve carried on with Believe bistro. My friend’s two teen foster children sometimes help out. They lack Sabrina’s attention to detail and exceptional work ethic.

As I stay up late sewing cup cozies and sorting through packages of fragrant tea, I IMG_20141002_114016-1wonder what I’m doing. Typically people don’t just start up a businesses. I know that now. A woman representing Pampered Chef or the likes there of informed me of this when I set up at a large scale home show. I didn’t bother telling that woman why I started it, she had a hard enough time wrapping her mind around the nerve I had to begin something original.

It wasn’t necessarily nerve, just an idea that got away from me. And now my vast walk in closet is stacked with pretty blue boxes containing lovely white packages of tea.

Sometimes I wonder why I’m carrying on. It started for Sabrina. But who is this all for now?

Tomorrow we’re heading to a local sale. In addition to tea, I’m selling off my collection of vintage children’s clothing. For the 1st time I’m bringing my daughters with me. Normally they help with set-up. Then they’re off with a babysitter or we depart leaving the table in the care of a friend.

Raine and Athena are incredibly interested in the business. They’ve been asking for a chance to be at the table to sell. Being 6yrs and 5yrs of age the actual sale may not interest them after all. But we’re going to give it a try for a few hours before my friend comes.

“I want to wear a really fancy dress so people will say, ‘that girl’s so cute I should buy some tea’,” said Raine this evening.

“I won’t smile, but will say ‘Do you want some tea?'” Athena informed me.

Though I began Believe for Sabrina, I suppose I carry it on for Raine & Athena. They witnessed me come up with an idea, make it a reality, and continue to work at succeeding. This is the example I want to set for them – the importance of believing in yourself.

 

 

*name changed