You worry a lot about making a good impression when you are trying to adopt. During the homestudy phase the drive home after every social worker meeting was a detailed dissection that would rival any CSI Autopsy. Did we say the right thing? Was wearing jeans too casual? I wish I had remembered to turn off my mobile ringer! And so forth.
We were lucky to work with a very good social worker, but it’s still a difficult process. You can’t help but keep in the back of your mind that someone is looking at every aspect of you to decide if you can parent a child. It’s daunting, to say the least.
You also agonise over a lot of forms and applications. Some border on the obtuse like, “On a scale of 1-10 how desirable is a speech impediment? Autism? Sexual Abuse?” (seriously, the word used is “desirable”) or “Which of the following conditions would you be willing to accept – AIDS/HIV, Asthma, Lice, Cleft Palate, etc.” The lice question still perplexes me to this day.
It’s hard not to develop a bit of a wicked sense of humour. In one of the many essays we have had to complete, under the question “Why do you want to adopt?” we gleefully drafted an entire response that ranged from, “we are bored blaming all of our farts on the cat” to “I would finally have an acceptable response for why I have the TomKat app on my iPad” to “Starbucks isn’t going to fetch itself on Sunday mornings, you know?”.
At times, it feels like you are marketing yourself as parents, and it just isn’t easy. This week, I threw away all of those tendencies. I went full throttle for answers.
I’m not sure I did the right thing.
Last post I wrote about a boy from ARE. The fact that no progress had been made on his profile quite frankly haunted me. I couldn’t sleep, and if I did, I was awake within the hour thinking about him. Random thoughts like it’s August already, so he will have to not only join a new family, but change schools. If he transitioned over the summer, he would have had a better chance. I could not let it go. So, I called back the director at his CAS, leaving a voice message that I probably re-recorded eight times.
When I didn’t hear back for two days was when I began sending my postcards from the edge. I emailed anyone, and everyone, I could find associated with this particular CAS. I struck gold when I found online an old PowerPoint presentation that had several Board of Directors’ email addresses. I contacted them and where possible, also tweeted to them. I emailed the Ontario Association of Children’s Aid Societies (OACAS), and MCYS. It was a bit like a cyber “bombs away!!!!”.
As you can imagine, things moved pretty quickly at this point. One Board of Director Member took my concerns very seriously (thank you, thank you). We finally received an update the next day – no, we were not shortlisted for this boy.
It’s a heartbreaking message to hear and one we have encountered more times than we like to admit. Even when you know the chances are remote to none, hope still digs in. There are tears every time.
Speaking of hope, what I do have are personal assurances that this boy’s case is now being seriously looked at and monitored for progress. I wish for his forever home to be found soon and he has a chance to thrive.
I’m hardly suggesting I am some patron saint to foster children. I’m not a social worker and I’m an outsider looking in on this system. Ultimately, it is still CAS that has to do all of the hard work. But, with no oversight, no independent body like the Ombudsman to answer to, CAS has no accountability. And things DO fall through the cracks, which is a dangerous state when children are involved. For example:
My email to OACAS also earned me a hasty reply from CAS Z about a young girl we had also never received a reply about. The good news: there are now two families selected for her and the matching process is proceeding. The bad news: CAS Z says they never received our Expression of Interest (EOI).
When you submit an EOI, it is done via the AdoptOntario website. We received email confirmation that our EOI was forwarded. This morning, we called AdoptOntario who indeed confirmed the time and recipient of our EOI form. Yet CAS Z says they never received it. Just another tumble down the rabbit hole.
I don’t quite know where we stand now. I already know from conversations that my name is damn recognizable around Ontario CASs – which is an achievement I will not proudly add to my CV.
Did I do the right thing this week? In questioning the system, have I placed a scarlet letter on our profile? I have no clue. Maybe this blog isn’t even such a good idea.
But, as I told one CAS worker – If I will advocate this hard for children we’re not even matched with, imagine what we would do for our own child?