For some reason my cell phone is hardly working at home. I guess the weather has caused a tower to malfunction because it keeps telling me that the network is busy and incoming calls go directly to voicemail.
Perfect morning for it because I was supposed to return a call to the adoption agency caseworker this morning. After trying seven separate times to reach her, I at last got through, only to be told she was on the other line and I could leave a message. Great. I did and she called back ten minutes later, only to be shunted on to my voicemail with no way to connect to me.
I decided to load everyone up in the van and drive to a different part of town and use a different tower. I had errands to run anyway. I didn't count on the fact that two Preschoolers strapped in car seats would not want to be quiet and sweet while I made eight separate phone calls which is what it ended up being.
The location change worked; I made the calls and found out to my dismay that the adoption agencies would all charge fees ranging from $10,600 (which I knew) to $20,000 (which I did NOT know). Yikes! It looks like the most likely candidate will charge $16,000, on top of travel and the money we have already paid for our homestudy. I wanted to cry. Then I wanted to strangle my kids, who were fighting in the back seat. Then I wanted to cry again.
The money we had carefully saved was dwindling at an alarming rate after purchasing a van, moving into a new house last spring, buying things like car seats and home studies and still waiting to be reimbursed from Hubby's trip to San Fransisco. We also found out we have to pay the cash in full at the time we get our baby. That means loans and interest and mounting costs upon mounting costs. I still want to cry.
Reminding myself we decided to use an agency for a reason rather than go through the state foster care system, I prayed for a little peace and continued on my errands, returning a template to the quilt store and buying diapers and TP at Wal-Mart.
Part of me is already so tired of the unknowns, the hassle, the paperwork, the red tape and the exorbitant cost of adopting I almost want to throw in the towel. Maybe two kids are plenty. After a morning of conflict while they did everything they could to be little monsters, why would I want to add a third one? Then I take myself firmly in hand and tell myself that I am simply tired, frustrated and have low hormones. I want to go home, take a hot bath, eat lots of chocolate and forget things like adoption even exist. Maybe I should get pregnant, throw up for nine months and not be able to get out of bed, while worrying about the baby's health and possibly dying. Nah.