Let's start at the very...

Hi Blog Friends, 

As I've said a few times now, this is all topsy turvy and back to front, but I do think it's important to try and document what I've had to do to get to this point in the adoption process. For myself, for anyone who is following a similar path and, I really hope, for my child one day. I want him or her to be able to read this and feel just how much I wanted them and loved them before they were here. 

The beginning was this: on arrival in Peru, I knew this was somewhere I wanted to spend a longer-than-before time of my life. Before being 9 years in Edinburgh, a year in Thailand, a year in Italy, 3 years in Venezuela, 8 months in London. I had the wonderful fortune of meeting a like-minded, Spanish-talking friend, who swifly found out that we had to live in Peru for 2 years in order to be treated as Peruvians in this process. Now, not to criticise other people's paths and choices - this is a ZERO JUDGEMENT SPACE - I did not wish to part with cash in order to become a mother. Is that a contradiction?? What I mean is, I didn't want to 'buy' a baby. I had the luxury of living in this exquisitely stunning country and I wanted to go through the government process and that was that. Hah! you may say...

So. 2 years pass. My friends and I, as well as strangers and I, discuss this plan of mine until at last the time is upon me to apply. Fortunately, the registration procedure had changed from having to be online at a specific time on a specific day to press the button at the exact right moment. I liken this to my Bestest and I attempting, painfully and full of teenage angst and woe, to get tickets for Boyzone in the 90s. Having a friend who had tried and failed to register several times, I felt her pain and disappointment (though we did ALWAYS get the tickets). Anyway, apply I did. Register, I did. Answer some generic 'why do you want to adopt' questions, I did. That was in February 2017. The next step was to attend the 'talleres' in the adoption office. I could hardly wait. This was the journey really beginning, this was it! What was in store? What would they teach us? Would I meet some people in the same boat as me? 

Well...I knew from my friend's research that there had been a British woman who had adopted alone before. One. Once. About 9 years prior to my registration...

The Bit That's Happening Now

Dearest Blog Readers (if you're out there)...

There's been a fair amount of rambling going on here, but sure, is that not what a blog is for? 

There's been a lot this week. A LOT. It's been a very emotionally draining, roller coastery, sort of stressful, mainly hopeful, week. I do promise I'll write through the whole process of adopting here from start to finish so that anyone considering this path can benefit from my experience of navigating this system in a foreign language...but where I'm at right now is here. 

There are around 18,000 children in Peru living in children's homes but due to processing paperwork and, I suppose, limited resources, only around 400 are legally allowed to be adopted per year. These are estimates and I don't know the ins and outs but this is the information I've picked up over the last while. There is a huge process to go through before a child can be registered as legally abandoned and therefore eligible for adoption - it takes 2 to 3 years to go through. Meaning that even if a baby is found without parents, for example, found in the street, they are usually living in a children's home for those first 2 to 3 years before they can be put on the list. I completed a Masters in Inclusion and Special Educational Needs last year and spent part of this course studying Attachment Disorder, which I'm fascinated by, so it breaks my heart to know that there are thousands of children who will undoubtedly have some form of this and it could perhaps be avoided by finding them parents in these crucial first years. I know that the reason the process is so complex is to protect the children and their parents, so my intention is not to criticise. It's just hard knowing that there are babies who will never go home to their birth parents, but will have to be in a children's home until they are processed. 

I've been told that I could be waiting for years to be matched with my child (by one of the Singleton Haters) and was advised that perhaps I would like to look at the priority list. These children are siblings, have special needs, are older or have health problems. I have a very strong feeling that this is where my baby is. That's not something I can put my finger on really; it really is just a feeling. So last week I was sent this list - a friend and I spent a couple of hours pouring over it, sobbing, getting excited; and the feeling has been growing all week that this could be happening for me soon. I have been to review the files of some of the children on this list and have put forward a request to be matched with one. So now I wait. It's in the hands of the powers that be in Peru as to whether this is my Tiny Human or not...and I've been met with many opinions over the course of the week as to why they might not be. Being as open and honest as I'm trying to be about this process invites opinions and I'm happy to have them - again, the Not Alone thing. However, when I read this file and saw this photo, I cried right there in that office in front of other Parents To Be and the Witness lady who was overseeing our file revising! I'm doing a lot of that crying business lately. Perhpas this is going to be like searching for The One. There isn't A One, there's A Many. This is going to be a long wait now but I have faith that whatever happens will be the right thing. 

So, I guess to continue sort of from the first installment...there I was in Thailand, with a cat and a dog, quite unexpectedly. From there, we travelled to Venezuela where we spent three years. We both loved it and hated it. From the prettiest beaches with sand made of pixie dust and water as blue as Bradley Cooper’s eyes, to the tear gas and rubber bullets on my street that once made us barricade ourselves into my hallway; we have been through a lot together, my furry family and I. Venezuela imprinted on my heart and it’s part of who I am. Funny how somewhere you lived for only 3 of 35 years has such a huge impact, but it did and still does. All I can say is that this wonderful, beautiful, hypnotic country and its people touched my heart and soul and will remain there always. I could tell you of the horrors that marked my own life and the lives of others I loved, but it would betray the wonder and beauty of this magnificent country. I love Venezuela and always will.

It was in Caracas where I began working with orphanages, one in particular whom I still fundraise for and try to support. For anyone trying to adopt in Venezuela, you can’t unless you’re Venezuelan. We did briefly think about getting married and adopting, didn’t we, Junior?? God, I miss you. My school set up a link with RISE (Rincon Infantil San Edmundo) where we went to play and teach English but pretty soon the protests started and it was deemed too dangerous for us gringos to cross the city. Instead, we got the children on a bus to our school to play, eat and learn English once every 2 to 3 weeks. It sounds nuts that this was the safer option but we just couldn’t go into the barrios safely and the things we were bringing to donate were being stolen. Reflecting on this as I write is throwing off my sense of reality, though I know that this was very real. I think at this time, my mind was cementing what I knew to be true already: I am going to be a Mum and this is how I will be doing that. I knew it couldn’t happen in Venezuela but I knew it would be my path somewhere. With a very, very heavy heart, I started my search. As I write, this child I clung to, Carlos, appears in my mind and I wonder what became of him.

My Carlos

To whom we never should have said goodbye x

Ella y ella y yo

Las tÍas!

I still support RISE, 7 years on, and have recruited my amazing family and their fundraising power to try and alleviate the horrific circumstances these children are battling. I've never wondered why my default is to want to help people because it's in my blood. Though one shouldn't brag, my family pretty much personify what a family should be. They are loving, selfless, warm, giving, generous and benevolent. I want to arrange a charity concert and there they are, arranging it, supporting me, helping others. Despite my aversion to the question ‘why’, I guess this is part of my reason. My family raised me to be this way and I loved those children in RISE. I still do. Some of them had mums and some of them didn’t; it didn’t matter. I knew, if I could have adopted one of my RISE kids, I’d have loved them inside out and back to front and upside down. My heart is breaking for Venezuela and particularly for these children. Working with orphans is not the reason I knew I wanted to be a mum, but it’s certainly cemented my way of knowing that is how I’ll be a mum. This is my path. I have never been surer of anything and I can’t wait till my baby comes home to me.