INSIDE OUT

What?!!? Wow. Really?!?!?
Coincidence??

I think not.

My last post, found here, http://insideout.tougas.net/node/242 spoke of an incessant passion of mine. Earlier posts would etch its intent into space, not ever knowing where or what I would do about it. Words are hollow. Intent, even moreso. What good is it to talk if those words reach ears, but not lives?

Twenty-four hours later, a phone call may have changed the course of our journey. Words have caught up with me and I've been challenged in more ways than I can share in one post. I have been heard. I am now tested.

How far am I willing to take these letters, "scribbled" on these pages?

I've held this itch in my heart many times before. Early last year (2009), B and I decided to go through an adoption course together. It is a 27-hour course that would burn its content in our minds and in our hearts ever since. In this program, we learned more than we bargained for. It was very educational, heartwarming, and challenging. In the months to follow, I wanted the direction of B's heart to take its own course. I knew that I couldn't be the only one to want to adopt. We knew it wouldn't be easy. It couldn't be done with reasons that were solely my own. B had to want it and he had to be passionate about it. When times get rough, I couldn't have him "blame" me for being "the only one" to want to go down this path.

Then, in walks God... or so I imagine it could only be him.

After the PRIDE program, I let the pursuit of adoption go. Well, out loud anyways. It was not mine to bring up. I couldn't control, manipulate, nor wish my passions onto my husband. And so it was. I was very cautious, even shying away from discussions with friends and family about it while my husband was around.

In the meantime, B would travel many times over the past months to Ontario. What I didn't know... what I couldn't have known, was that God must have been speaking softly. Each time he came home, he would bring up the topic of adoption. Apparently, he had been having discussions with friends about it. He would bring it up to me when he returned back home... I could only smile. These discussions turned into more conversations and those turned into B coming home one day, telling me that he simply can't shake the desire... the conviction...

Was adoption now truly in our future?

When "true religion", as the bible puts it, is not going to church, or helping our friends, or bartering with neighbours (not that those actions are not also good). If "TRUE religion" is taking care of the widows and the orphans, as Jesus puts it ever so seemingly clear, I want to know what he means by that and what he does not mean by that.

I joked today that we could abandon our kids, thereby they becoming orphans, then re-adopting them back into our home and tricking God into believing we truly have embodied the true sense of this "religion". Ha. Of course, I doubt we'd fool anybody, much less God, himself.

LESS THAN 24 HOURS LATER

The next morning, after writing that post I mentioned earlier, after deep conversation with B the night before AND the next morning, I, for some reason, felt the urge to look into my roots. I have known for some time that my great, great, great grandfather was Mi'kmaq. For those who do not know who they are, a short history lesson is they are Aboriginal people from Canada who were greatly changed by the French Revolution, then shortly thereafter by the British Invasion. They lived and owned the lands of the Atlantic provinces of Canada as well as parts of Maine in the United States. One particular intermarriage, between the French and the Mi'kmaq later, comes my maternal heritage.

...and the oral traditions I have found there are few but interesting.

Beautiful, as well as heart-wrenching stories are told of what happened to many of the Mi'kmaq people when foreigners came to Canada. The French noted a warming sense of pride and hospitality in the Mi'kmaq. Intermarriages between them would be woven and stayed together and the languages of each would be embraced. Many of the heart-warming stories are not told to this day. It's a shame. The Mi'kmaq's history is told to our school children in a way that leaves out these beautiful characteristics of the Mi'kmaq people.

In recent history, Catholic missionaries would school the Aboriginal people. Denying them of their language, their history, their sense of pride in who they are as a people. Today, the statistics tell the sad truth. Suicide numbers are higher in the Aboriginal teenager than any other ethnicity in our country. No wonder. When the government throws money at 18 year olds before they even have a chance. When their homes are broken and most of them have better vehicles and televisions than you and I. Their sense of value, skewed by our North American culture. If you threw tens of thousands of dollars at any teenager, I doubt the money would be spent maturely, responsibly, or that it would last. What kind of solution is this for our Aboriginal owners of the very blessed land we have infiltrated?

This is my past. This is my ancestor's history. This is my story.

CONNECTING THE PAST WITH THE FUTURE

In sharing with my children that morning, the different languages, dress, crafts, songs, and stories, my heart felt longing for them. When we went to the PRIDE program, we were told how important a person's culture was to each child when adopting them. How the stats weigh heavily against the notion that we can incorporate those of a different ethnicity, a different culture and seemingly erase their past. Who will they feel they are when denied their sense of "self". They will never be able to erase the urge of knowing where they come from no matter how hard a family might try. As they grow into adolescence and look in the mirror every single day, they will be reminded.

I decided to phone the adoption agency that afternoon. I wondered what it would take to be "Culturally Appropriate" in order that we could adopt a Mi'kmaq child. I also wondered why it was taking so long to have our home study (the process whereby they come to our home to get to know us and our family to see if there might be someone out there to match us with). I had phoned THREE TIMES before without a phone call back. We ended our PRIDE program last June. We were ready. Why weren't they?

In looking for the phone number, I stumbled across the Aboriginal Adoption agency in our area. I met with a very nice woman on the other end. Her name was Ruby. I told her a bit about myself and that I wondered what it meant to them to be "culturally appropriate". I asked what we could do in order that we COULD be, if we weren't already, culturally appropriate. I was interested.

Apparently and mysteriously... so was she.

For the next forty five minutes, she would ask questions about us and we would discuss the type of child we would welcome into our home. She asked about our comfort level, our UNcomfortable level, etc, etc, etc. She would ask the name of my Mi'kmaq forefather and wondered the oral traditions that have been passed down from my maternal family. I told her what I knew and what I could find out. The one comment she made stuck out to me:
"Sometimes some things happen for a reason. It's very interesting you called today".

Of course this would be the moment my kids come into the area and were playing loudly. So loudly that I couldn't make out the rest of what she had said! Ugh! I had to let it go as she moved on to another question and I didn't want to sound too, "excited"... in case it was nothing. She then told me she had to talk our case over with her supervisor and would get back to me. I assumed she would get back to me in a couple of weeks, if at all. Given the reputation with the "other" branch, I tried so hard to contact with STILL no word from them, I simply assumed that I would have a long wait on my hands.

Ten minutes later, the phone rings. It was Ruby.

She proceeds to tell me she had just spoken with her supervisor and gave my family's story in "five minutes". We both had a chuckle about that. I'm sure their office knows what they are looking for. Ruby then tells me that she and her supervisor both feel that we could be appropriate.

It was then I asked what was so "interesting" about my phone call that day. Ruby was hesitant. You could tell she was smiling on the other end. She proceeds to tell me, anyways. "There is this girl"...

My heart leaped.

What? What did she mean? A million thoughts raced through my head whilst my tummy did circles. She tells me she hesitates because she had told someone this before, yet, it turned out they weren't a match and the family was so disappointed. I assured her I would guard my heart. I've heard these stories before. They were heart-wrenching. It's as though you are pregnant and you have a miscarriage. I wanted no part of that pain again. As short as that lasted last time, I know the process with Children's Aid Society is slow. They have many who would like to adopt and not enough funding nor staff to have things run as smoothly as they'd like. So as I took off my emotional gloves, I listened carefully...

..."There's this girl", she continues. "We were JUST talking about her and wondering how and where we were going to place her... and then "you" called". My breathe was bated. "This was so fast", I thought. We go from waiting eight LOOONG months, to one phone call that could change our lives forever. I guess this is how it all goes in this adoption journey. It's not as though you have nine months of pregnancy to prepare.... to think about... to buy for... to have a bed for... But, perhaps I WAS being prepared. It was almost literally 24 hours earlier I was moved to write that post. Now, here I am... presented with this potential gift.

She went on...

"She is easily attachable". Now, this was the one thing we were warned about in our PRIDE courses. If you have a child that does not form attachment, there's no guarantees. That is the single-most important variable they think about when determining the future of a child. Of course, at age three it is easier to determine than a baby. Yet, this little girl, at age three formed attachments easily. The best news anyone adopting a child at this age could hear.

She told me that they had yet to place her. Ruby told me that the little girl was quite the "diva"; quite the little "princess". Ruby also added that she has a five year old girl of her own. According to her, this little three year old was "nothing" in comparison. ;-)

THE WAITING GAME

So here I am. It's Wednesday. Six days from my first conversation with Ruby. I won't lie to you. It hasn't been easy. Guard my heart, though I may, the curiousity is hard to shake. I am thankful I haven't seen pictures, nor know any more about this little girl. I stop myself from thinking about her in a more personal way. From the surreal to the real, this little girl has a name, a face, a story. She might be ours, she might not. I now think about any young girl in my future (this one or another) who is from my Mi'kmaq heritage. Either way, it solidifies the reality that there are little girls and boys out there without anyone to call mommy or daddy. Without a place to call, "home". Our family is lucky. We have a family unit that is healthy and strong. We have love for each other and as young as my kids are now, we all have love to give.

These thoughts push my heart further down the journey towards adoption. It also pushes us further away from the tendency in our North American culture to live our lives in isolation from the truth. What is this truth? Once we truly know it or get a sense for it... how will we respond?

We want to live in a global reality. Not as one who sees or hears and soon forgets that there are lives out there, right now, who are suffering and who need more than just a mere handout.

Thank you for reading this journey of ours. Please send postive thoughts and prayers our way. I am excited for our family's future.

***UPDATE!!

Well, I spoke with Ruby today. She told me she's "advocating on our behalf". She is so adorable. I can't help but want to meet her. ;)

So, she took our intake and will be transferring our information to her office. From there, it will take "about" a month to start our home study. From there, it will probably take "about" three months to finalize all the paperwork. As you can see, there are no guarantees of a timeline. If all works out as planned, it appears it will all happen before we leave for Ontario. Perfect timing if "the match" works out!

I found out a bit more about "her". The curiosity killed me. Again, it solidifies the fact that there really is a child... out there... waiting. Will it be "her" or another? I will say, hearing more about her and knowing that the process won't start for at least another month, has me more restful on the whole process. I now don't have to worry that the renovations downstairs (by my very hard working husband) is happening too slowly. *wink* I also don't feel that I need to "think about" rushing anything. Whatever will be will be... and I feel peace.