16.11.13

What now?

The adoption is not happening. Not right now. Our journey has been terminated. 

After more than four years of completing forms and clearances, responding in essay form to extremely personal questions, undergoing psychological evaluations, and updating our medical/financial records, our waiting child is no more. 

Almost two months since this hell began, we continue to come to terms with our decision to end our adoption process. It was not an easy decision at all. Though the transfer agency's recommendation that we just pretty much start from the beginning heavily weighed in on our decision. There was no way we could start from the beginning and once again pay out the service fees to a new agency. Absolutely not. Especially because we were in waiting mode. 

How an organization such as Peal S. Buck (PSB) with an amazing legacy could lose their accreditation and  have no accountability to their clients, I'm not sure.  A. & I requested an exit interview as we wanted to communicate how disappointed we were in their services as well as share in detail the various instances we found that PSB demonstrated insensitivities in their practices and culturally.

It wasn't a confrontational conference call. We were professional. However, I did want them to know every red flag we'd experienced in their services based on our interactions with them. From the pregnant facilitator in the homestudy training who didn't acknowledge her pregnancy while the women in the room stared in discomfort . . . to being asked to bring dessert as a guest at a PSB function where they hosted ICAB members (aren't they the hosting organization?) . . . to clearly demonstrating oversights in their management of our dossier and ongoing updates to keep our adoption application current. . . as well as frequent turnover in staff who never seemed to have read our file thoroughly enough . . . gave us cause to question PSB's competence -- despite the fact of having over 30 years of adoption success from the Philippines. 


Feeling like the only time we ever heard from PSB was when it was time to pay another service fee.

So incredibly glum it has come to an end. We just couldn't continue and start from the beginning.

But we never would have been blessed with N. had we not started the process. 


What now?
A bit of soul searching. A bit of dealing with a health crisis on A.'s end. A bit of trying to emotionally reconcile how a significant loss of our finances with no investment to show for it is part of the Universe's plan to show us a miracle.

ICAB rejects adoptive parents who have diabetes. Most recently, A.'s has had to suddenly deal with high blood sugar and try to get it under control, which means regardless of our decision to discontinue the process, ICAB would have halted the process for us. We would've been in the midst of providing our annual medical updates. A's current high blood sugar would been noted, and ICAB would've tossed our dossier aside right then and there. 
Where is our miracle? Sure it's the day-to-day with N. who graces us with her blueberry smeared face and playful toddler personality.

We haven't ruled out adoption. When we're ready, we may consider domestic foster to adoption if it feels right for our family. In the meantime, I'll mourn the loss of our waiting child and focus on N. in these early years. 


[In the wake of Typhoon Haiyan, it has been difficult to watch so many images of Filipino families, especially children, seeking basic respite from the natural catastrophe. Sometimes I can't help but feel we've let someone down by not pushing through with the adoption. We continue to pray for the survivors and the dead among the ruins of Typhoon Haiyan.]


So what now? I seek reprieve in my own heart(break). I take a deep breath, quiet my mind, and know that we are where we are meant to be at this moment in time. 

Because every moment in this life . . . is a miracle.