We go up in front of the adoption review panel tomorrow morning - to get the final rubber stamp on us being able to adopt children. If they approve us, we move straight on to “matching” (in this case, matching means “matching us with children”).
The last few weeks have been spent in a state of paranoia. The bedrooms are rewired, redecorated, and recarpeted. We now have smoke detectors on both upstairs and downstairs landings. We have a solid wooden fence around the pond. We have fire extinguishers in both the car and the kitchen. We have a fireblanket in the kitchen now. Cupboard fasteners. Fridge door fasteners. You name it - we have now done it.
The entire effort is to convince a panel of people with various backgrounds (doctor, psychologist, educator, councilor, magistrate, police, social worker, independent social worker, etc..) that quite apart from having no health issues, no skeletons in our closet, and no obvious problems as a couple, our house is more prepared for the arrival of children than any family who have their own children.
Somehow the fun is being taken out of it all. A friend remarked to us the other day that it doesn’t pay to perhaps go as far as we are being forced to, because there is a certain value in a child learning why we shout “No!” in a panicked tone (god knows I heard it enough when I was young).
We still have all the really hard lessons left to learn. When we are finally matched with children, we have to start really learning how to be parents. How to make good snap judgements. How to live with those judgements. How to trust each other without question. How to have confidence in the children - to not over protect them. To learn when to stop them, and when to let them make their mistakes.
For the past two years we have been on a journey of theory, books, videos, courses, interviews, meetings and study. Finally we are approaching the exciting bit - the life changing bit. The beginning of our family.
Fingers crossed for tomorrow morning.