I feel like I've had a blog in me trying to get out for a few days now, but I'm still not sure what it will be.
Recently, I have been thinking a lot about "a day in my shoes". The demands and requests on all of us are pretty high, I'm sure. Sometimes, I am completely shocked by the requests I receive from adoptive families. Though I desire to make sure that everyone gets the answers they need, I can't promise that they will get all the answers they want. I truly think that if they could just glimpse into the window of my day, they would not ask some of the things they ask.
Let's start with Thursday this week in which I was in a trial for a contested domestic adoption until 10:45PM. I arrived home about 11:30PM but did not fall asleep until after 1PM. I was at the office the next day by 8:30AM. Fortunately, an intern had offered to pick up the snack for Friday's staff meeting. I quickly finalized my staff meeting agenda, printed copies of health insurance information, our monthly applications chart, the prayer list, etc. We had a short devotion, prayed for the needs of our agency and the waiting orphans, thanked God for every good thing, and then dove right in. We completed the staff meeting about 11AM. I moved on to about 40 e-mails waiting in my inbox which had been waiting since the afternoon before when I had gone to court. I began answering questions from waiting adoptive families. I manage the following programs (Hong Kong, Nicaragua, Panama, and Uganda). Of those programs, I had at least three families who I had promised would hear from me by Friday. In addition, I had e-mails from inquiring families for these programs as well. I received a pop up message that it was time to send out my monthly domestic adoption update to waiting families, and I also received notice from our Uganda baby home that they were in desparate need of funds which have not yet been raised. I e-mailed our attorney in Nicaragua for answers for the first family, e-mailed Uganda for answers for the 2nd family, and answered questions on e-mail related to advertising, an upcoming adoption workshop, and received additional HR information that I must disseminate to my staff. At 12:30PM, I took a short lunch break. After scarfing down my food, I returned to my desk to return 3 phone calls that had been waiting since the day before. I still have 2 phone calls I was not able to return that had to be pushed back to next week. Each phone call took about 20 minutes. I also had an urgent situation that arose with a family who had previously adopted from Uganda. I played phone tag with one party and then spent about 30 minutes on the phone with another party. In the midst of these e-mails and phone calls, I intermittently answered questions from staff who would enter my office, said goodbye to an intern who's last day was Friday, and gave direction to the new intern regarding our upcoming golf marathon. At 2PM, I received a phone call from a family in our Nicaragua program whom I had scheduled a conference call with because they had some things they wanted to share with me. This conference call lasted about 30 minutes. I then sent another e-mail to our attorney in Nicaragua and answered more e-mails and questions. At 3PM, I called one family that had been waiting for news regarding their child in Uganda only to tell them that I did not have any news as I had hoped. Even though I had no update for this family, they asked many questions that I could not answer (because I have no news from Uganda) and the phone call lasted about 15 minutes. I spoke with my board chairman regarding an upset relative of the court trial from the previous day and then sent them an e-mail. I mediated a dispute between my staff over a file cabinet. I planned a trip to DC and NYC (checked flights, looked at hotels, spoke with NCFA staff) for myself and the China program director to meet up with the CCCWA delegation so we can rub elbows and build relationships with important powerful people running this adoption program. At 4PM, I began to crash since I had worked until 10:45PM the night before and had slept little. I decided to leave work early. On my way home from work, I received text messages from our domestic worker regarding a birth mother in labor. I responded to her when I arrived home and also received the e-mail I had been waiting on from Nicaragua. I sent both Nicaraguan families e-mails with the answers they had been waiting for. While I was at it, I responded to the other e-mails I had received since leaving the office and finally put the work down at 5:45PM. One question I received during the midst of this day was a simple one, but often I am asked questions that are low on my priority list given the days duties. In the midst of all that I had to do on this day (Answering an e-mail from a relative from the trial the night before, answering a family adopting from Nicaragua about their attorney's meeting with officials the day before, discussing with one family the fact that the child they have been matched with may not be eligible for adoption after all, resolving a crisis with a family who has disrupted their placement, answering questions from staff, inquiries from new clients, and I forgot to mention that I am also working on an application to get licensed in another country), this question is just a slap in the face. Why? Because the questions that families ask when they are "checking up" to see if we are doing our jobs, is like a slap in the face. No one is sitting on their hands doing nothing. We are ALL working hard to do everything we can to complete every single adoption and see that every child comes home as smoothly as possible. Sometimes, I welcome questions from families. The families that I don't hear from often or who do not expect an updated on every single step in the process, these families can get lost in the shuffle. When I get a question from these families, it is often accompanied by "I really hate to bother you, but." To these families I say, "Please bother me!" I have told families that with all that I have on my plate, I can allow a lot more time to pass without realizing it because I am focusing on so many programs, duties, and questions from the "squeaky wheel" families, that their adoption is not high on my radar. I tell these families, please e-mail me once a week to make sure that I know how much time has passed, and I do not forget to check on your case. These are the families though that seem to understand the demands I am under every day. To all adoptive families I say this, "I promise to do my very best to be kind, patient, and effective in my work with you. I promise that I care about your little one who is waiting in another country for you in an orphanage. I care so much about orphans, that I got into this business of adoption because I want to see children in forever families. I work hard to find trustworthy staff in the countries we work in, and I contact them about important steps in the case as often as possible. For the little things though, I have to trust them to do the job they have been hired to do. Why? Because I cannot micromanage them even if I wanted to. I don't have time. Please hear me when I say that I rejoice with you when a step is completed that brings you closer to your child. I cry with you when you hear bad news or God forbid are not able to move forward with an adoption altogether. I and my staff pray over the decisions we make, the matches we make, and the families we serve." I am not writing all of this to complain but simply because as I said I sometimes think that if our clients could only see a glimpse into our day, they would re-evaluate their expectations. They would have more patience and more understanding for the work that we do. I'm sure that to our clients, it feels that we should understand better where they are coming from as well. Do we really know how it feels to have your child in a country far away, have no idea how soon you will be united, and know all the while that they are growing older in an instituion? No, for most of us we do not have that personal experience. We do try to understand as best we can. Its not easy seeing things from someone else's perspective, but I promise to try harder if you will too.
