Oh the Trials

I lost it today. Completely and totally lost it. Unfortunately for my mother, it was while I was talking to her on the phone. I haven't cried yet this entire time, but today was just too much.

I have been on the phone all day trying to find out why the background check that my husband completed wasn't returned to our adoption agency in Washington. After 5 phone calls, I got ahold of the right person, and she was very helpful, but she informed me that the background check was sent to my home address instead of our adoption agency. There is no one at home, and our mail is delivered into a locked box. Awesome. So I spent the rest of the morning trying to call people to see if we could find a way around me flying back to Seattle to open my mailbox and pull out a letter that should have been sent somewhere else. Thankfully people were willing to work with me, and a letter was emailed. Unfortunately, no one actually signed that letter, making it invalid. And that person is out of the office for the rest of the day. Well, at least I found out that by tomorrow, we may have proof that Aaron did not abduct, abuse, or neglect a child while living in Virginia.

To top all of this off, I found out that the social worker here has not even filed the paperwork with the ICPC office (interstate child placement something or other that says we can take Isaiah across state lines), and may not file it for a few days, as she has 2 more placements for adoption happening right now. And her aunt died and she had a funeral to attend. And they have to have Isaiah's full medical records before they send the file to the ICPC office. And the hospital won't release Isaiah's full medical records until he's discharged. And the doctor decided today that they want to keep him a few more days because his oxygen saturation levels occasionally drop below 90% (I have been watching him very closely, and at this point, I am convinced the machine is malfunctioning, because every time they come to check on him, he's perfectly normal, and when he's not, it's because he keeps kicking off the little monitor on his foot. They, however, think it is necessary to make sure he is still breathing for at least 2 more days).

It was at this point that I thought about unplugging my son from his monitors, sneaking out the back door, catching a flight out tonight, and heading home. My more sensible husband and a much more sensible friend reminded me that I could go to jail and the adoption would fall through entirely if I tried this. So I'm still sitting here, waiting for permission to leave the state of SC and head back to WA. Southern hospitality is great, but it's not home. And I want to go home.

All of this has been stressful, but it was hearing Malachi say, "Hi, Mommy!" that put me over the edge. I miss him. I miss his hugs, his songs, his orneriness, his smelly blankie, even his little fits. If it weren't for being apart from him, I could probably do this. But to be all alone, without my husband or my other son ... it's hard. And the longer I'm here, the harder it gets. And it makes it even harder to not have a definite date for leaving. When I asked the social worker if I would be going home next week, she told me she couldn't promise me anything.

All of this has made me realize that adoption is not easy. It makes me want to be a social worker or a lawyer who can help simplify the process. Maybe more people would adopt if the process were easier and didn't have these headaches. I don't know. But I am trying very hard to trust that God has a plan for me staying here. I've always believed without a doubt that God is in complete control of everything, but today, I'm wavering in my belief that God is actually good. I always feel like He's out to "teach me a lesson" of some sort (like developing patience or perseverance or something). Sometimes I would rather just learn the lesson later. Today, I'd rather not learn the lesson at all. I'd prefer that God would miraculously swoop down, fill out all the forms, make the agencies work together, and get me home where I belong. But I guess part of trusting God is believing that He is good, even if it doesn't feel like it, and even if I don't see it.

And I have to say -- the comments I've gotten from people all over the place saying they are praying for usand having people that don't even know for us pray for us ... it brings tears to my eyes. Thank you all for your support and your reminders to count my blessings. A year from now I'll look back on this and it won't seem that bad. What's a couple of weeks anyway? And I'll always remember the love, support, and prayers I've gotten from all of you.

So thanks for praying. And even in the midst of this crazy drama, I'm choosing to thank God for His goodness and faithfulness (even if I do it after screaming at him for the last 5 hours). :)