I like my social worker. I really do. But I have to vent a little. Way back in beginning of this year, we discussed what the plan would be once my colleague returned from sabbatical and we moved forward with finding a match. We’d go to an adoption party in late April, and regardless of how that worked out, we were hoping to start transitioning a child into my life and home when I returned from two weeks away, so that full placement could happen toward the end of July and we could have the month of August to work on attachment before school starts, and I’d be on full-time family leave. My colleague returned the last week of June, and I got back yesterday.
I emailed M. last week to check in, as I hadn’t heard from her and finally had a moment free of travel prep and mission trip madness. In her reply, she said the child I was interested in from the party was going to be adopted by her foster family (yay for her!) and that she’d start making inquiries for me.
Um, start? Shouldn’t that have started a while ago?
Add to that the fact that since I believed this would happen this summer, I notified the appropriate boards at church that I would hopefully be gone full time in August and part time in September and October. The church moderator then proceeded to not quite get my stress that this was TENTATIVE and announced it to the church as if it were definite. So now I have to run interference on that, nevermind deal with all the “so you know who your child is” questions which just make me more mindful of the fact that everything is still so up in the air.
I sent her an e-mail this morning asking if she still thought an end-of-July placement was possible, and she replied no, unless an emergency placement came up (as sometimes happens). I’ll be up by her office tomorrow, so I’m going to stop in (on her invitation) and despite my discomfort with confrontation, I’m hoping I”ll have the guts to share my frustration at how this has been handled.
P.S. On a complete side note, I ran into my landlord’s ex-wife/next-door neighbor yesterday. She asked about the adoption thing, and I updated her. She replied, “You know the signs to look for, right? You don’t want a RAD.” Not even “a child with RAD.” Just “a RAD.” Ok, lady, I know you have issues with your kid, and his behavior is a huge struggle and source of stress in your life, but seriously?
Here ends my rant-and-a-half.