When things don’t happen as they were meant to …

Upon arriving home and checking my phone messages on Sunday, I discovered that Barnados had to postpone my appointment. I had initially extended my leave to cater for the appointment today. They were moving me to another case worker and she was going to call me to reschedule today. With the funeral tomorrow, I opted to keep my leave where it was and just take the extra day to read over my Extension Two students’ work (not done at this point).

Emotionally I had to question if the postponement of the appointment wasn’t a sign that maybe fostering wasn’t my path. Still on a travel high, this wasn’t completely bad news and I was willing to accept it. With minimal sadness. But knowing that I was on a travel high, I also knew I would need to wait to ensure that that is what I thought was best. Bad writing today lol. No flow.

Anyway, yesterday I received a phone call from Vesna from the Benevolent Society. She left me a message because it was during my teaching time with Extension. She then followed up with an email. I replied. Today I called. She was unavailable and then called me back.

The phone call flowed from the beginning. The buzz returned. Maybe it was just that Barnados isn’t the right agency for me, nor I for them. The thing that attracted me to them initially was the capacity for adoption. Maybe long term care is what I am meant to engage in.

We talked about my expectations. The process. The potential for not being approved; it isn’t a fait accompli ever. We talked about the culture, gender, age and quantity of children. We talked about my working hours and job experience. We talked about Max and Molly, about my brother, about my daughter. We talked about my motivation. We talked about my IVF journey. We talked about the differences between adoption and long term care, and the level of support a carer could reasonably expect from their organisation. We talked about the differences in policy between a variety of organisations.

And we talked about my fear at the magnitude of the undertaking.

Three to six months if I choose to apply to be assessed with them. And then I will either be a foster carer or will need to reevaluate this path.

At times it will be an arduous journey, one in which constructive criticism will need to be accepted without deference to ego. A journey that starts with the information package I have now received through email. Followed by an information day at the end of August.

If I then choose to apply, home visits will be scheduled with an assessor, more training will be undertaken, and if successful, my assessor will become my case worker.

I am cautiously excited.

And nervous.

But, more excited.

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