So we got a letter in the mail, saying we have to update our bishop’s reference letter, criminal background checks (including checks for our four- and three-year-old children), and financial documentation (including tax returns). We also have to have a caseworker come to our house—again—to make sure it’s still safe for a child. This is necessary because it’s about to be a year since we were originally approved for this adoption. Oh, and this packet came 44¢ postage due. :-P
The bishop balked at filling out the paperwork because our agency neglected to include an envelope for him to send it back. By the time they finally sent one, he was gone on business for a week, followed by a two-week vacation with his family. I don’t begrudge him either of these, but it’s just one more thing, y’know?
Regardless, we now have to go through our house, making sure everything is spic and span. I mean, it’s not like we live like animals or anything, but there’s a different standard when you’re showing your entire house to a complete stranger, especially one who gets to decide whether or not you’re allowed to have a child. We have to make sure everything is safe and/or childproofed to their standards. We have to show that everything is clean. We have to install at least one carbon monoxide detector per floor. (That’s a new one, since we adopted Leah.)
In short, let’s just say that if biological parents were held to the same standards as adoptive parents, I’m guessing people wouldn’t have to wait two, three, even fifteen years to adopt a child. (Our friends, for example, recently gave up after eleven years of waiting. I sincerely hope we’re never in that position.) There would be plenty of children to go around, and most of the kids who spend the better part of their childhood in the foster care system would likely never get there, in the first place.
Anyway, I hope this doesn’t come off as a rant. It just kind of takes me aback that after all we’ve already had to go through to get to this point, we now have to do it again. It’s not a problem; it’s just one more thing, y’know? And by this time next week, it will all be a memory, anyway. :-)