And we have a timescale at last!

Firstly, I want to say how much it means to follow everyone's comments and Tweets. I have even been put in touch with a local adopter and spent a good while on the phone to them - it means a lot to be able to talk to people that have or are experiencing adoption. We have told a few people in our own circle now and they tend to use words like 'brave', 'noble' and 'admirable' - I'm glad they think so well of us but, really, I just want it to be normal. And, if I'm honest, I want to be able to have a little bitch about it now and again without feeling like I'm scratching some halo that has been placed on me.

I followed the advice from several of you and phoned the agency. I have to admit I used my son as an excuse (not very 'noble', eh?) and said that since we had discussed the adoption process with him, he was very excited and I wanted to be able to manage his expectations. I didn't want to hold them to any dates, but just wanted an understanding of the likely timescales. They were lovely. As it happens, then, they hope to get our first assessment done in the New Year, all being well get us to prep course by Easter and we should then expect home study in the summer.

I think that this is, therefore, another lesson to note down. Stop fannying about and just talk to someone and then problems that my overworked mind has built up suddenly become trivial.

Sorted.

Waiting... and a dilemma.

We are still waiting for contact from social workers to be allocated our first home visit. The twitterverse has told me that I should keep on them, so I probably will...

...in the meantime I'm batting a little dilemma around my head. On the joyous merry-go-round that was our fertility referral, they pretty much couldn't come up with much of a reason as to why we hadn't fallen pregnant again. There was particular scratching of heads as we had our son with no intervention, or any great delay in conception after the decision to 'go for it'. It's a little more convoluted than that (and involved some delightful tests, some of which were rather... chilly) but the upshot is that it is not outside the realms of possibility that I could still fall pregnant.

OK... it's pretty unlikely, after four years of trying, but it is possible. The dilemma is that to commit fully to the adoption process, I am going to have to head back to the doctors and talk about contraception. 

It really is such a minor thing, I imagine many people would think 'so what?' but one part of my head still thinks that the 'next time' could be the one. No matter how much I have embraced the thought of adoption, there is still this sneaky other voice telling me to delay that visit before I lock and bolt that door forever.

The sensible voice has put her foot down, though, and I have come to a compromise with myself. I'm waiting for the first appointment, waiting for them to tell us that they will continue with our application. Once they make that commitment to us, then I have to reciprocate.

Anyway, if I have to make that visit to the surgery, I will enjoy telling the doctor how rubbish the fertility clinic has been, I'm sure that she will appreciate that feedback if she is sending other couples (we were the first she had sent under some 'new rules').

Finally, I promise not to talk about voices in my head again - you never know when the social worker might be looking...

And so... we wait...

Wee received our first letter this week from the powers that be. They thank us for our completed forms however are sorry that they cannot allocate a social worker at this time. They will call us as soon as they can.

Cue raised eyebrows, reading of the back of the sheet to make sure we hadn't missed anything...

I understand that they are stretched and that we can't expect a social worker to turn up on the doorstep overnight, but there was not a hint of timescale to that response.  I don't know (I suspect) it is just a form letter sent out to everyone, perhaps they don't know the timescale themselves, but it leaves us in limbo and I imagine it is a taster of things to come.

I was pretty fed up. Then babies were brought in at work and I was more fed up. Then a friend finally had her baby and I was happy for her (then quietly fed up). I got on with my day being grumpy and then had a peek at Twitter. There was a lovely post by @adopting_dad talking about going to court and his adoption finally becoming 'official' today. It truly warmed the cockles... and I felt much better.

Lesson for this evening, then, is try to look at the bigger picture and focus on the prize (if you will excuse my buzzword bingo) - but I'm not promising I won't be fed up again some time soon.

Is that a learning curve I see before me?

Today I have been doing some reading about adoption and preparing siblings. And the reading has led to book lists and the lists to recommendations and podcasts and other blogs and... and... and...

A little while ago I had started to ask myself how our birth son (who is 7) would deal with a younger sibling, I was trying to come up with answers to any questions he might have before we spoke to him about it. I'm a bit of a detail person and, before long, I had started to stress the other way about how a new small person would deal with how many photos we have of our son, how many stories about him as a baby, about the family tree I have researched with him at the bottom of it. Every issue raised a question, every question an issue. At that stage we had only been to the information session and there I was tying myself in knots!

To be honest, I needn't have worried about him. In a bit of quiet time we had a little chat and he was beside himself with excitement, even talking about how when they were all grown up they would still be the best of friends.

But of course that started me off thinking about how we have to prepare him for it not to be easy, to talk about how they might be scared, or angry. And off I went on the merry go round of questions, issues, etc.

Which leads me to today, and the reading leading to more reading and more questions, etc.

So, I have come to a conclusion that I may as well accept that it is going to be a VERY steep learning curve, and I'm going to try not to sweat the stuff I don't need to sweat about just yet. And to try to take on board my son's attitude that it's quite an exciting adventure, actually, and imagine that future when they are grown up and best mates, just as he can see it now.

A glimpse of the future...

Having turned our back on the farce that was our fertility referral some six months ago, with a great deal of satisfaction I might add, we got to the end of the summer ready to look at adoption. Actually, I say ready to look at, but there hadn't actually been that much discussion between hubby and I up to this point. Beyond the odd statement such as 'adoption seems far more worthwhile than carrying on with this crap' anyway...

I had bounced around a few web pages, read a few blogs, read everything we had been asked to read before contacting our local council agency.  I built up so much nerve to call, then I wasn't able to speak to a social worker when I did. After that, we had a rather prolonged game of telephone tag, until I finally managed to speak to a lovely social worker.

I must admit, I wasn't really expecting such deep questioning so early on (I now realise it is a small taster of what is to come!) and the main point she seemed to be trying to get across was that these children all come with issues.  I answered that of course I appreciated that, but it wasn't until reflecting on the conversation later that I can see that I probably did realise it in passing, but preferred to hold on to my nice comforting fluffy vision of a small happy child meeting me and shouting 'mummy!'

Anyway, we had to be sent a pack before we could enrol ourselves on the information evening. The pack only told me what I had been told to read already online - but again I think this is probably just a fair warning of the very defined process that we have now set ourselves on...!

So, the information meeting. What was I expecting? Well, probably another rehash of the information read online and sent in the pack, I guess. What I didn't expect was what a powerful meeting it would be. In a very quiet, pulling-no-punches, presentation the social workers and adopters had me on the verge of tears several times as I realised what a terrifying, amazing, life changing thing we were about to commit to. It also made me even more angry about our previous (and, ironically, so sterile) meetings with the fertility crowd. But I have been there already in this blog and I don't need to go back!

Having not said much before, or during, hubby came out with fire in his belly. I could see a real passion there for the process and what it could mean to our little family. We were practically bouncing around the car on the way home and were still buzzing for some time after.

We left ourselves a week to reflect before sitting down together last night and filling in our first forms, telling them we want to go ahead and hopefully get our first home visit. The envelope is sitting out in hall waiting to go tomorrow, it's all I can do not to drive it over there and post it by hand...

So, happy thoughts tonight - helped by seeing some adopters on Twitter reach some serious milestones in the past couple of days.

I am not a number...

I need to give you the low down on how we got here. So, quickly, a little bit about us.

We had our little boy in our early thirties and around four years ago, when he was three, decided to try for another. For whatever reason it didn't happen and 18 months ago we took our first visit to the GP. Many mixed messages later, we were referred and set upon the path to IVF. Well, that's what they assumed anyway. It didn't appear that anyone could see any other option. It was a case of 'set desperate couple on the conveyor belt to the clinic and everyone is happy'.

We went to the clinic. We marvelled at the beautiful surroundings, the hushed elegance, the expensive cakes with tea. We paid rather more attention to the facts and figures and came to the conclusion that we would be parting with an unspecified (fees can go up as well as up!) amount of money for something that was, statistically, probably not going to work. We said no.

The powers that be were surprised. Confused, even. Offered small possibilities of this or that with little confidence and then, clearly, didn't know what to do with us.

We found our own way to the adoption agency, made our own enquiries, found our own contacts. The more I looked into the possibilities, the angrier I got with the fertility process. I wondered why adoption had never been given a fighting chance back at the beginning, why it was always the consolation prize when all else had failed? Why were we not given all the information at the start so that we could make a decision between the two then?

Don't get me wrong, I know we are lucky, that we have our little boy and others have no children - that for them IVF is the right option. But what if it isn't? Where do they get to make their choice when the medical juggernaut is pounding down the road to the clinic?

Anyway, rant over. I'm glad that I am so sure that we are taking the right step now. As always, I hope that this blog will chart a positive story.