A Day in the Life of An Adoptive Parent: Home Study Updates and Medicals

Every year as part of our home study update we have to have medical exams and a letter from our doctor stating that we are in good physical and mental health. Out of all the things we've struggled with during this process, this has not been one of them. I've seen the same GP since I was ten. My husband has seen him for most of our marriage. He was kind, caring, supportive, and he knew us. Then in December he sold his practice and moved to New Mexico.


I. Freaked. Out.


But after calling the new doctor and being assured that our care would continue as usual, I figured no big deal. We'd all adjust and move forward.


So a few weeks ago we went in for our physicals. I had quite a time getting the appointments scheduled, but decided the receptionist just didn't understand what we were needing them for. I was sure the doctor would be helpful. No need to "throw the baby out with the bath water" so to speak. The doctor seemed nice, but he didn't spend much time talking to us. But I thought maybe he was just in a hurry on this particular day. We went and had our labs done the very next day, and then we waited. And we waited. And we waited. And waited . . . I got a hold of the nurse last week, and she said it would be a few more days so I figured we'd hear something on Monday of this week  . . . or not.


Finally, on Tuesday I called again. The receptionist said, "I'll send him a message and get back to you." No one called me back Tuesday. No one called Wednesday. So by yesterday I was over it, and Patrick called. Side Note 1: Our first medical letter was sent to Bulgaria and had to be notarized. Our old doctor always notarized our updates, and the sample letter had a spot for notarization so I just went with it. But then yesterday, this doctor got very ugly about the whole notarization thing. And I don't mean a little annoyed. I mean he was flat out refusing to do it. Nevermind, that I had sent the sample letter in well in advance of our appointment, and made it very clear that all of our letters had been notarized up to this point. It was as if this was the first he was hearing about it, and he wasn't doing it.


I decided to call our case worker at the home study agency and see if it was absolutely necessary to have the letters notarized for our update. Side Note 2: I've been trying to get ahold of our caseworker (this is not our social worker . . . that's a completely different circus) at the home study agency for about a week. We've had about five different caseworkers thus far, and I even made the comment to Patrick that she probably quit or got fired. Guess what? When I called I was told that our files were being transferred because she was no longer with them. Awesome! So I left a message with whomever it was I spoke to and was assured I'd have an answer by the end of the day, but first, they were trying to locate all of our paperwork. That's reassuring.


At this point, I was two steps from completely losing it. So I called our adoption agency. I love our caseworker there, and our adoption agency is ultimately the final authority on all of our paperwork before it is sent across the Atlantic. I somewhat hysterically told our caseworker what was going on, and within 15 minutes she had calmed me down. She reminded me that we would get through this momentary crisis, and that God had always helped us. She's good at that, calming me down, and getting me to see the big picture.

About 4:30 I finally got a call from our new case worker (I think this is number six), and she said it would be fine to skip the notarization. Hallelujah! So I called the doctor's office and spoke to the same receptionist who's been so kind (insert sarcasm font here). When I told why I was calling she said, "Mmmm . . . hmmm . . . ". Nice . . . very professional lady. I told her that the letters did not have to be notarized after all, and that I would be picking them up in the morning (today) along with our medical records. She assured me they'd be ready.


This morning I got to the doctor's office, and surprise, the letters weren't ready. The girl wasn't even there. There were no patients. And the lady that was working had no clue that I was coming in. So I parked myself in a chair and told them I'd wait. While I was waiting (the letters hadn't even been typed) an older lady came in to speak to the receptionist because they had failed to transfer her files from another office and to call her back to reschedule her appointment. She and the receptionist proceeded to get into quite an argument where the elderly lady ended up saying, "I'm having problems with your office. No one else. Just your office." At the same time, the nurse was on the phone arguing rather loudly with another patient. This was all taking place right in front of me. No discreetness (is that even a word?). No real attempts to keep things quiet.


And I realized this isn't the exception. This is the rule. This is apparently how this doctor runs his practice.


Mass chaos, and the patient is NEVER right.


Then, in the midst of all the arguing and the waiting, Andrew decides that he may throw up, and we have to race past the arguing women (thus interrupting their argument) into the restroom. Thank goodness, it was a false alarm. And within a few minutes he was back to business as usual. (If you have kids, you'll completely understand how this kind of thing can happen. If you don't . . . well God bless you.)


Needless to say, I finally got our letters and our records, and we will be finding ourselves a new doctor.


And this is just one day in the life of our adoption. We've had other days like this. We've had other days worse than this as has every other adoptive parent I've ever spoken to. Murphy's Law was written for adoption. When you're depending on other people to help bring your child home, things don't always go as smoothly as you'd like, and sometimes they're downright disastrous. Still God has seen us through thus far, and He'll continue to see us through as long this whole process takes.