A knock at the Door

I sit on a chair that faces the window out the front of our home. The leaves are gone; the wind is strong and the sound of the geese are a constant reminder winter is on its way. I hold my coffee in my hand breathing in the deep aroma of pumpkin spice and wait for a knock on the door. Days prior I’ve spent every waking moment organizing my home in preparation for a stranger to come over and judge me. I’ve cleaned areas of the home I haven’t touched in years. I joked to Jeff and asked if I should wear a dress and have a homemade pie in my hand when she arrives. I’ve read blogs and books about how to prepare for a home study but I admit I was still very nervous to have this woman come into my house and make accusations the moment she steps foot through the door. Will she notice my flaws and weaknesses? Will she write down the fact that my house isn’t perfect and we still have projects that need to be done? 

When was the last time you interviewed for a job? Do you remember biting your lip and stressing about the questions they would ask? I always thought that if I was ever not picked for a position, disappointed as I may be I would say, if it wasn’t meant to be, it wasn’t meant to be.  This was not an interview for a job and there wouldn’t be another “position” out there for me. I’m longing to be a mom and this home study qualifies me.

So, I sip another drink out of my coffee and pray, Lord be with me today.

She knocks at the door. Jeff grabs onto Bentley as I greet her (without a pie) and welcome her to our home. Bentley our lovable excited 60 lb. beagle collie greets her. Thank goodness she loves dogs. Good job Bentley. She asks where we can sit and I guide her to our family table. Jeff and I sit anxiously and she opens her folder of paperwork.

Why do you want to Adopt? Why China?

Do you feel you let your husband down through infertility?

Do you feel your wife let you down?

Do you feel fit to parent?

Intense right? Understand these need to be asked for the safety of the children. Its easy to put up a wall and feel attack if you view the process as a cross examination of your life but, her voice was sincere and her eyes were soft. When she asked her personal questions, she was interested in hearing our story, our journey and our love for our child. When she began a question, she looked up at us all ears forward and listened to us without a constant focus on her paperwork with pen in hand. This so-called interview quickly turned into a warm conversation about the faith we had in our Lord and the choices that brought us to this very day. She was not interrogating us nor was she searching for flaws. She opened us up to share our hopes, desires and vision we have for our family.

So, I sip another drink of my coffee and pray, Lord thank you.

The warmth of joy we felt that day filled our hearts. With as much support we have from friends and family, when we talk about our adoption we still hear skepticism and doubt from bystanders. Our social worker was anything but. She encouraged us to share our excitement and raw emotions. Nothing we answered was a wrong answer and nothing that was said was judged. She obviously was there to HELP US, not keep us from our dream of building a family.

We began the tour of our home where we already knew if it’s child proof and not dangerous we had nothing to hide.

-50 outlet covers

Check

Medication, cleaning supplies locked

Check

Smoke detectors in each bedroom and carbon monoxide alarms each floor

Check

Each room she walked into I would hold my breath. I pictured one of those cooking competitions on T.V where the judge takes a bite and slowly chews. Makes no comment, no facial expression writes something down and then finally and the end of seconds that feel likes hours says, I love it! Geez the anticipation!

Our only projects that need to be finished before our home study can be completed will be adding a railing to the basement stairs and to finish adding locked cabinets to our bar. Simple, right? Besides the safety issues she did not care what our house looked like. A family is a family based on love and not the material items they own. A family is raised on memories not the layout of their home. A family is strong not by eliminating every dust particle in the house but because of the time they share together and the promise they give to one another of always being there.

She left our home and my heart jumped out of my chest. I knew I was going to me a mom someday and laughed as I thought this day was going to prevent it somehow.  I try to stay strong for our missing piece but it isn’t easy all the time. I might complain and ask why I get home visits instead of ultra sounds or why I get questions as to Why is takes so long instead of “How far along are you”.  I choose to accept that God has given me the gift to live this remarkable journey to find my child and our family will be stronger because of it.

I cleaned up the table and piled the items, just a few, that we needed to complete before our next visit.

I live an imperfect life. I have flaws, create messes and make mistakes who doesn’t?  Maybe someday I will learn how to bake a pie and with the help of my child’s tiny hands it will taste delightful. It will be messy, but delightful and totally worth it.