Quote for today, and contemplation on our current situation

"Don't be too hard on yourself. There are plenty of people willing to do that for you. Love yourself and be proud of everything that you do. Even mistakes mean you're trying." -- Susan Gale

Those words give me comfort. There's a huge wad of discomfort in my life right now, so a touch of Nice is nice. And of course I tend to be pretty hard on myself. I think a lot of people are their own worst critics.

So today I have been making phone calls to the state Department of Social Services (DSS) trying to find someone who has even heard of the idea of adoptive parents relinquishing parental rights in a failed adoption.  And it's emotionally wrenching. I haven't really spent much time on the phone. I've been redirected a few times, and left a voice mail message at the last number I called. So here we are.

I got a reference to a family law attorney in town. Don't know the guy, but he was recommended by someone I like and trust. I want to see what I can get from DSS before I call him. Maybe. Unless I don't.

Let's talk about this big failure. Work with me here. The adoption has failed. We have tried very hard to make it work. That's my point of view anyway. Maybe we could have done more, been open to more possibilities, had better attitudes and expectations for success. I don't know. As for me, I gave it the best I have. Or had. I feel bad about it, though. I know we need to legally disengage from her. I am ready to proceed. But I'm very sad about it. Even though I know we've done all we can, it still feels like failure.

And the road ahead is rough. I expect the process will not be easy. Not emotionally, for sure, but probably not bureaucratically easy either. And will take a long time. I don't know what "a long time" means exactly.

And that's about all I can say about it today.

What happened instead

Yes, I cut my hair! It was... cathartic, fun, spiritual even. I'm glad I did it. It needs to be styled a bit, as it looks like the butcher job that it is. But I didn't do that today. Instead...

Let me tell you about Diva. Oh, never mind, if you've been reading this blog for more than a month you've heard about Diva. Click on the "Diva" tag for way more information than you'll ever want. Shit happened today concerning the dear child. The treatment center (Residential Treatment Facility - RTF) is not doing a good job in a few respects. Our behavioral health insurance is pretty good, (thank the gods!) but only approved coverage through last Friday, which we learned on Friday. The RTF began billing us $450/day on Saturday. Since she has been out of the home for more than 30 days she automatically qualifies for Medicaid. We went through this with Sproing, too, when he was in his RTF. It was a different facility from the one where Diva is now. Diva's RTF told us to get her on Medicaid. I went to the local office and was told that the center where she is staying needs to apply for Medicaid on her behalf. We called them back, they said the agency that placed her needs to file. Yeah, it's been a runaround. Well, first thing this morning Superman got a call from the RTF saying they will discharge the girl today because of the financial situation. PANIC!!! NO! She is not ready to be here, and we definitely are not ready for her to be here.

Superman spent a lot of time on the phone. He camped out in the waiting room at the local mental health agency for a couple of hours. He came home and got back on the phone with lots of different places. He and I updated and/or completed the application info for a "children's home" place that might be a good fall-back option if we had to get her from the RTF today.

Ended up not going. There's a super-nice friendly helpful fellow at the local Dept. of Mental Health office whose position is something like an ombudsman or something. He and Superman spent a lot of time on the phone, both with each other and to the RTF. He was able to contact someone higher up in the RTF organization. We had been told that they "didn't do Medicaid." Which is total BS, of course, and our friendly ombudsman talked to someone there who was confused as to why we were given that information. She was looking into it.

Yada yada and a lot of runaround. (I may be repeating myself.) We had to make some plans, to think about what the fuck we would do if she did have to come home today. Damn, that's a scary thought. Sproing said he'd leave, would go live with one of his uncles if she came back home. I don't blame him. Hell, I might join him! What I came to tell you, though, is that we had one hell of a stressful day today. Nothing is settled now, though we are OK through tonight (as far as I know). I don't know what kind of shit the fan has for us tomorrow.

I had hoped to post the before and after pictures of the hair cut, to tell you about the plans for that, and to tell you the emotional revelation/breakdown I had about it Monday morning. (It was more about that gender thing, how I'm not particularly comfortable being a woman.) But this is what happened instead. And I'm tired. I want to go snuggle with my husband. So for now, goodnight.