Tuesday, 23 September 2008


Over the last few weeks, I've begun to feel a lot better about this process. Finally, it feels like little tiny fronds of the person I want to be are finally unfurling from within the dark, clenched recesses of my black, angry, resentful heart. Finally, I'm starting to think that I might be able to make it through this after all. For the first time, I've begun to feel okay, and maybe even cautiously optimistic, about the homestudy proccess.

But now we've got another appointment for our homestudy tonight and I've realised something. Of course I've been feeling okay about this over the last two weeks - we haven't actually had an appointment in those two weeks! Now that one is suddenly upon us again, I feel just as gut-churningly sick as ever.

(By the way, I almost wish we didn't use the same word (homestudy) as is used in the US, because the process is even more unpleasant than it is there. In short: TEN appointments, each three hours long, delving into EVERY area of your life, taking about six months and culminating in judgement by an assesssment panel - yes, really - and no choice at all about who does any of this, meaning that you can be assessed by an organisation whose values are very different to your own. Errrr, hypothetically speaking of course).

Today, thinking about this homestudy has sent me back to the work bathrooms for a few of those old familiar crying-at-work-and-trying-to-hide-it sessions that I thought I had left behind. It's proceeding in parallel with my supposedly normal life but once again is the source of huge waves of stress and anxiety that make concentrating at work insanely difficult. I'ts so drawn out! (Six months). It's so intrusive! (I really don't think the more ...errr... intimate aspects of our relationship are ANYBODY else's business). It's so prescriptive! (There are a whole lot of areas where, no matter what they say, there is definitely only one right answer). It's so embarrassing! (I'm not amazingly keen for my social worker to go and discuss MY fertility issues in detail with my referees). In so many hundreds of ways, it's just so humiliating.

I know I was writing on Sunday about how I need to deal with my control issues, and no doubt this is helping. And I know I just need to learn to cope with it. (Because there are still about eight meetings to go). And on a different day I might be able to work out how this is helping to make me a better, more empathic person. But today I just feel too raw.

Part of what gets me is that they get to decide whether or not we've dealt with our grief about our childlessness enough to be ready to adopt. (Seriously. That is explicitly one of the assessment criteria). And I started crying in the middle of my last interview, and I'm freaking out that I'm going to do the same thing again today. (If I could change one thing about myself it would be gaining the ability not to cry in stupid situations). Thing is, though, it's their stinkin' process and judgement and assessment and ritual humilation that are making me want to cry today rather than anything more biological. But short of shouting 'These are not tears of grief! They are tears of IMPOTENT RAGE!', that might be difficult to communicate.
Ach, it's going to be a long evening.


  1. Best I can do here is just pray for ya..so I will.

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  3. oh...my new friend. :-) I have been enjoying reading your posts since you found my blog! thanks again for that...and connecting with me. I am so glad to know more about what you are going through but not one bit glad about what it is...I will hang onto the hope of Romans 8 with you. I can't even imagine....it sounds so hard, beyond words. I promise to pray for you...if you ever want to email let me know and we can exchange emails. I am praying and will continue to do so. praying you will be strengthened beyond words this week...

  4. Oh my goodness, I am so sorry you have to be put through such a rigorous and emotionally intrusive vetting process. I mean, on one hand I can see why they [they being adoption agencies in general] do it in order to make sure someone is prepared to take on an adopted child, but on the other hand it seems so very much more intrusive over there than it does here....and stringing it out over 10 visits in a 6 month period has got to wring out one's last nerve. But, I can tell you are a strong individual and will get through it with grace. I do think when it's all over, you will have found even more strength!



  5. Thanks so much to all for your prayers, which were definitely answered! Things like this - prayers from people so far away - really remind me that our God is God of the whole world (and beyond).

    And I would love to hear, any time, from blog friends! My email address is carolinemcharles (at) gmail.com . My grasp of blog technology is still pretty shaky - I should probably work out a way to put this in the sidebar!

  6. I am so sorry I didn't get around to writing a post before your meeting happened (we're sharing a laptop while in Los Angeles--horrors--and the internet can get spotty sometimes, like when I want to write a comment, *plus* the little one likes to whine and pull on my pants right when I'm sitting down to write an encouraging comment to my friend in the UK, the really cool one who needs it).
    I am so with you on the intrusive questions that go with home studies. Ours in Oregon was really quite easy (only four hours in all), but it does feel so humiliating to be forced to *prove* to unknown, anonymous people that you are emotionally stable and healthy, as if you ever completely get over the difficulties tied up in fertility issues (certain events in our life still make me tear up, and I'm 100% happy and content as a mom through adoption). Just saying: it's hard to do. And I hope it all went well. I hope to read this latest post, when the screecher stops screeching and pulling on my shirt/grabbing for my coffeemug (what is literally happening at this moment)...


Over to you!