There seemed to be so many people on the team call today about Hope Kid. Case worker, recruiter, therapist, my agency, me and at least one other person. Apparently Hope Kid’s jurisdiction does not have conference phones, so I was called on a cell phone, which was then apparently laid next to another cell phone that had my adoption agency rep on the line (kinda bootleg, right?).
So many voices it was dizzying to keep up with the voices, the names and corresponding role in determining whether or not Hope Kid and I might be a match. There were so many questions and answers flying back and forth; I have four pages of scrawled notes.
It was a great call, and I am increasingly convinced that Hope Kid is my kid.
The signs are there!!
- HK doesn’t like seafood; I am allergic to seafood!
- HK likes crochet; I can crochet and I had a great aunt who made me the strangest crochet summer dress one time (weird and random)!
- HK likes singing, and I am a Black Teena Marie knock-off (oh the irony!) while I’m commuting to work with the car windows up!
- HK likes tween music; and I still reminisce about how fine the members of New Edition were before we all grew up and hit 40. Ok, some of them are still hot.
See? Total glittery unicorn! We match and everything!!
No, seriously, Hope Kid seems to be a resilient kid engaging in typical age appropriate behaviors. Hope Kid’s foster parents recently noticed the emergence of a crush. Ah, young love. There is some lingering baggage from some rough years, but it was described as “carry on” not “steamer trunk” at this point in recovery.
The call moved quickly, and I had a chance to talk to the foster folks. It’s an odd moment. I already love this kid, and I want to thank them for caring for Hope Kid. It also seemed not quite appropriate to say that, so I packed it away for now. They were kind and helpful. And the team was insistent that we all talk today; no one wanted to waste time for what seems like a possible match.
For now, I get back to praying and meeting with my agency about next steps.
It feels like a match.