Last Call

I had previously mentioned that the girls' social worker had left DHR for another job just prior to the adoption. She had worked with the girls since they had entered the system and they were the only kids she had seen go full circle (which took several years). For this reason, even though she no longer works for the state and even though she no longer is our social worker, she was at our adoption hearing. Other than that, however, there was no representation from DHR at court that day. There was us, our family, the judge, our attorney, court reporter. Nothing about this struck me as odd, however. I mean, lets be honest, I had had a baby five days before and the fact that we even MADE it there was the important thing. It never occurred to me that no one else from the state was there.
So...last week the phone rang and it was the SW who had taken over our case. We had met with her the month prior for a normal home visit (and she was nothing but incredibly nice and helpful by the way). The first thing she asked (on the phone) was if we had a new baby. "Yes," I told her, "she was born on the 6th."
SW: Oh, wasn't that when you were supposed to have court.

And it occurs to me for the first time that no one at DHR has any idea that this adoption has even been processed. This floors me. It shouldn't but it does. Two kids who have been in the state's custody for YEARS no longer are and nobody even realized that. Granted it had only been a month, but still. This has to be a glimpse of how kids fall through the cracks. Workers change, events happen (bad or good), no one is there to notice.

I quickly assure this worker that we did have court and that the adoption was final and she let me know she would make a last note in their chart and close their file.

Such a conflicting feeling. On the one hand we are done. Finished. Finally. It feels good. I'm on the opposite side of fighting to keep these children. Those of you who have been on that side or are currently on the side of fighting to keep "your" children prior to a TPR understand what it is like to want to come through the phone at someone/get on your knees and plead your case to someone/cry,kick,scream, etc. You know what it is like to W A I T, to hope, to be frustrated, to feel like the people who are supposed to care don't.
But then when "your" children finally become your children and that animosity that has fueled your fight is no longer necessary, well...you forget. Kind of the same way contractions can be the worst pain in the world but once the baby is in your arms you forget.
What I'm trying to say is...the system that brought me my first two children is terribly flawed. But it is, in fact, the system who delivered my children into my arms. And now that we are where we are I have almost forgotten how flawed it can be. Almost.
It reminds me that although we have fulfilled what God has called us to do in our family (for now), we still need to be strong advocates for these over-worked social workers and most importantly for the waiting children they serve.
Everyone needs reminders every now and then.

I will now step down from my soap box.