The Calm After the Storm

In our case, the storm has been the emotional roller-coaster that is completing an adoption in the Philippines.

Cory and I will always and forever be grateful that we could follow the domestic process, which allowed us, after living for three full years in the country, to take our son home when he was still relatively young (8 months). We do not, for one second, need to rethink our decision to adopt. Aiston is worth every hardship - every burst bubble, every emotional eruption made by me or my husband, every delay and every piece of misleading advice, information or online resource. In short, if we knew what we would have to endure throughout this process to bring Aiston into our home and to complete our family, we would absolutely do it again.

But, before you can get to the calm, to the state of being thankful and appreciative, one must traverse through the crap.

After we finished our court appearances at the end of July, we were on a high. The judge let us present our last two witnesses in one sitting, which he never allows. We thought we got lucky. All of our documents were then submitted to the court for final approval and legalization. Which we thought we would receive (and we realize this was being hopeful) within a month. This was because the other expat couple who was also in court on the same day and who had also just completed their third round of testimony actually did achieve their finalization at the end of August. But, August came. And then it went. And September came. And then it went. October rolled around. And passed us by. Which brings us to November...still with no word whatsoever. Every two weeks, we send our attorneys emails, inquiring into the projected time our adoption may become final, asking why this process is taking so long, making sure we haven't missed out on anything we were or are supposed to do. And every two weeks, we get the same reply: "Everything is done and everything has been accepted into evidence by the court. We just have to be patient." In October, knowing full well that the steps after the finalization would also take time, we sent our judge a letter with family photos attached, imploring him to understand our position and our need and desire to travel home to the United States for the holidays so that Aiston could meet his other family members and get to know his other culture and spend time in is other home. We wanted to add, but wisely didn't, that we thought we just might go insane if we were forced to stay another of our breaks in the Philippines. The latest request by our attorneys has us submitting yet another letter, backtracking and apologizing if our last letter seemed too forward; that it was only our intention to prove how much we wanted to be with our family. B.S. is what that is. And the latest string of emails from our attorneys suggests that they, too, have absolutely no clue why our decision is taking so long. One guess, made by a clerk in the family court branch of our judge, proposed that the delay is due to the judge taking on a heavy caseload and handling all of the decisions himself, rather than doling out the legalization paperwork to be completed by the clerk of court, as they usually do. All of this and we supposedly have the most efficient judge! It wouldn't be so bad if, after the paperwork was finally complete and in our hands, we could just walk into the passport office, sign a few papers and retrieve Aiston's Filipino passport (since the United States portion of this story is another long and depressing fiasco of a post). But, it's not that simple. After we have the documentation in our possession, we have to register the legal adoption with about four different government bodies here in Manila and one in the United States. This is usually done through snail mail. Here, that means months. We will be lucky if our attorneys can persuade the judge to allow us to register the adoption to each branch in person. Next, we must secure Aiston's amended birth certificate, which will list us as his legal parents and change his name to the one we have given him. After that, we will need to get his passport, which is apparently the fastest part of this process - go figure. The next step is setting up an interview with the United States Embassy to achieve a multi-entry visitor visa for our son, who will not be considered an American citizen until several years down the line. And THEN, we can leave the country.

I guess we were naive when we thought we could go home for Christmas. But, we were really trying to be positive. All of the people in the field told us this timeline was a reasonable expectation. Of course, all of the adoptive parents before us, told us the opposite. Either way, we thought we might be able to swing it.

So, the holidays are out and now spring break is looking like a no, too. Fresh air, good beers, wonderful friends - with a road trip around Tasmania - out of the question. We'll be in the Philippines - again. I hate to write it, but now we will just be grateful if we can get home for the summer.

I know it sounds like I am being dramatic. Maybe I am. This is the life we chose and adoption is the path we have taken. But, this is our context. Living in a developing world, without control over the decisions you can make as a family, without knowing WHEN you can leave, without reconnecting with what is most important, is REALLY taking its toll. So much so, that Cory and I have both, separately and together, had, and continue to have, our very rough times.

I think that's why it means so much when my mom comes out to visit. When she makes us a priority in her life. When she takes the time to know her grandson and spend quality time with him because she understands how hard this has been and how much Aiston deserves to know his lola. I think that's why it means so much when my brother finally sets up a regular Skype date with us so that he can chat with Ace every week and see the changes in his growth and abilities. I think that's why it means so much to have the occasional Skype call with Nana and Bapa and Lolo so Ace can put a real "face" to the pictures he says nigh-night to every day. I think that's why it means so much to have friends like the Freemacs, the Wintons, the Ferens, the Aylings and Mel who we can rely on to lift us up while we are stuck here. I think that's why it means so much when friends like Kristy, Kate and Flo and Tiff, the Welshies and the Dunnes keep in regular contact by responding to the blog or by Skyping on the weekends.

I think that's why we have moved on from the gloom that has overshadowed us for some time, and started thinking of all the things we want to do before leaving the Philippines. Because as soon as we can leave, we WILL be leaving. On breaks, that is. It's why we have now started doing those things, too - Atmosphere in October, hiking with Ace in November, planning a road trip with plenty of outdoor adventures in northern Luzon over the holidays, thinking ahead to spring break in Sagada - some of the most pristine rice terraces in Asia and one of the most beautiful areas of the country, and planning some weekend hikes to the various volcanoes that exist within the region. We have to keep trucking. We have to keep doing things that we would do if we could leave. Even if it's hard with Ace. And even if it means disrupted routines, not enough sleep and uncertainty in the plans. Getting out of Manila and our contact with good friends and family is what is keeping us going.

I won't apologize for feeling this way. Through all the complaints, I can say that we are beyond thankful for our son, our good health, our lifestyle, and our ability to save and plan for the future. But, I can tell you that in our context, we are getting really tired of overcoming hurdles to prove or justify our capabilities as parents. We deserve to make decisions affecting our family like any other family can. We should not have to wait in the dark for months when there is no reason for it. We should be given answers to our questions so that we can follow all appropriate steps to ensure Aiston's future security as a U.S. citizen and as a part of our family.

Looking back, all of this is what makes up the storm. And we still have some storms to weather ahead. For now, though, there is a sense of calm. There is nothing we can do. We cannot fight, fix or manipulate the bureaucracy, no matter how much we'd like to. We cannot change how the system works. We can have our opinions and our emotions and we can express ourselves in ways that make us feel better. And we can choose to keep pressing on, to be happy for what we have and to live our lives as best we can each day we are given to live them. Looking into the future, we have so much to be thankful for, so much to be proud of, so much that makes up our story and who we are now and even who we will become. And one day, in the very distant future, perhaps we'll look back on ALL of this, and even smile about how it all came together. Finally.