Passing through all of the Stages Of Grief in Three Hours

On Tuesday, Aug 23^rd, we entered the in-country adoption evaluation process, after having spent over one year being evaluated out-of-country.

At the Child Welfare Office

Once an adoptive family arrives in Colombia, they soon head to the Family Welfare (ICBF) office for the long awaited meeting (El Encuentro) with the child to be adopted. From there the child stays with the potential adoptive family for a week to see if the match works. ICBF representatives visit the kid and the adoptive family at their residence a few times during the week to evaluate how the prospective match is working. This week is called “Integracion”. If the Integration week goes well, the adoption case is submitted for approval to a Colombian judge who sets a date to decree the adoption process to be complete. That date could fall anywhere from two to six weeks after Integration. If the family is not Colombian, then the adoptive family with the new child apply to their embassy for permission for the newly adopted child to immigrate into the home country of the adoptive family. That process also includes a doctor’s check-up and vaccinations. This part takes another week. Then the family travels home.

Our Encuentro with our new son was very painful. He and his foster family were very close, and he was happy with them. About a month ago, he was told that his new adoptive family was coming to take him. In the three weeks prior to our travel, we had twice spoken with him and his foster mom via Skype. Before we arrived at the office on Tuesday, his foster mom had dropped him off with a photo album and a bag full of his clothes and toys, and then returned home.

When he saw us enter the ICBF office, his impending loss became real. In the course of three hours I watched him pass through sorrow, rage, negotiation, and then resignation. A gaggle of office workers annoyingly tried to distract him. As we watched and tried to ease his torment, we also knew that we were the cause of it. Sam Sam and Lidia, who’d arrived nervous and excited to meet their new brother, burst into tears themselves. Carina said she felt like a “Shmuck”. To describe what I felt is a vulgarity, so I’ll just say that I felt like an absolute jerk.

Snack Time

Over the past three days, Carina and I have at several times discussed whether we should stop this adoption and instead let this dear little boy return to his foster mom. During our earlier Skype talks with his foster mom, she had said that it would be better for him in the US because of the medical care he could get there (that wasn’t available to him in Colombia). In that same call, he himself had said that he wanted to be able to walk (he was born with arthrogryposis, which has nearly locked all his joints below his waist). We don’t know if he’ll ever be able to walk, but we do know that Seattle Children’s Hospital is excellent, well-funded and available to him. A technician there who helps Sam Sam said that there are some therapies for arthrogryposis. We also feel that this boy's future prospects are better in the US than they are in Barranquilla. The education and future jobs that will be available to him are far beyond what he can expect in Barranquilla. Because of the lack of accessibility throughout Colombia, his prospects, even with a wheelchair, would be greatly limited.  The sidewalks are full of potholes/steps and there are not always ramps to get up and down the high curbs.  We’ll also be able to someday provide him (and Sam and Lidia) with some financial inheritance. Lastly, we think that our family is emotionally healthy and nurturing and that we can care for him well. The gnawing question that remains is whether all our reasoning matters enough to subject him to the horror of losing his foster family.

Lidia plays goalie

When we adopted Lidia and Sam Sam, they were two and three years old, respectively. They came from orphanages. Their adoptions were less traumatic, and they very quickly seemed to like being with at least one of us. We had moral clarity. Those were joy-filled processes.

The little guy became calm after we left the ICBF office.  We have filled the past three days with a schedule that includes, short (sweat-filled) excursions to buy groceries and kitchen items, twice-daily trips to the hotel swimming pool, cooking and eating meals in the hotel room, a brief devotional (which he has enjoyed), playtime (toys and games), shower time, quiet/reading time and video time.

Racing

      He participates in all we do. It might be that he is accepting the situation and is trying to fit in with us. He stays close to Sam Sam most of the time, but also spends some time alone. Lidia has been very much the big sister and plays with him well. He is first to the table at meal time, and has accepted the chore of wiping the table once it has been cleared. He has warmed more to Carina than he has to me. Maybe he’s not used to having a man around him at home. Maybe he sees me as the one who carried him out of the ICBF office away from his mom. When I watch him during the day, I make an effort to warmly smile every time he glances at me. Today in the pool, I got a brief smile back!

               I am happy to see that he intelligent, confident, ambitious, polite, obedient and funny. He is just a great kid. On the surface, it feels like the adjustment to becoming a new family is progressing well. I wonder how long it will be before the pain that haunts all of us will be healed through forgiveness. Will it be days, weeks, months or longer?

Ladies from ICBF say goodbye to us

    What’s going to happen this afternoon? The first check-in appointment by the ICBF officials is at 3pm. Right now, all three kids just finished their leftover pork with ramen noodles and are in their room for quiet time. We bought a pack of colored pencils yesterday, and the art has begun to flow into their journals. Carina is filling in a poster sized daily schedule. The kids like the schedule. Just before lunch, we had our first Colombian, windy, thundering, street washing downpour. It was so refreshing. But now, the sun is out again. I’m dreading the consequent evaporation and heating of all that moisture. It’s another reason not to go on our outing today. Mr. Carrier (inventor of refrigerators and air conditioners) should have a national holiday named for him.

              That’s it for this post.