Today was the day I was convinced our official foster care license would arrive in the mail. It didn’t.
All along I assumed our completed home study was in Lansing, being processed. It wasn’t.
I assumed our social worker had completed the home study. She hasn’t.
We both received email from her asking for more information and clarification to the questions we’ve already answered. I had to go further in depth into my father’s abusiveness, and one of my ex’s abusiveness. That was a treat. Hopefully, I gave enough detail and explanation this time so we’re not held up any longer. Dan had to write more about his abusive step-father. Both of us have that in our pasts. Is that going to disqualify us somehow? Hold us up somehow? Make them question our abilities somehow? I can’t believe that would happen, but you never know. Still, I’d rather be honest about my past than lie about it. It’s happened, I’ve worked hard to process and deal with it all, I’m different than what I grew up with. I am not my father, although sometimes I wonder if something is laying dormant. Seems like I’d know that by now.
At any rate, we’re no farther ahead in the game than we were on the day of the home inspection. My partner says I’m too trusting, that I’m quick to believe what people tell me. He’s right. In my mind, and his mind, we would already be fathers. We’d already have our child. Now I feel like I need to focus on something else. I’ve been half-hearted in focusing on work because I’ve held out hope we’d have a child coming very soon. Now I see I should have thrown myself back into work, defaulted to workaholic mode.
So I’m in here writing about my disappointment while my partner is reading a book I bought today called Gay Dads by David Strah. I’ll read it when he’s done with it. Maybe reading about the stories of men who have come before us will help us cope better, will help us gave a different understanding and perspective.
Will help us stop fantasizing so much and start living our lives again.