When we had our first home visit, for what would be Luke's adoption, I spent weeks super cleaning and organizing the house (Is that something I would have done anyways? Maybe.) I went through every closet and cupboard, super cleaning every surface. We spent a decent amount of time cleaning the basement and the garage (two perpetual problem areas). Our house was maybe the cleanest it had been up to that point.
Then the dreaded walk-through took less than 10 minutes. And she never went in the basement or the garage.
(I mean, we do have a small house but still, I've given "tours" to new visitors that have taken longer. And they (probably) weren't checking for smoke detectors and fire extinguishers.)
Turns out, there was no "white-glove" test and that they pretty much just want to make sure you have running water, no obvious safety hazards, and legal space for a baby (Did you know, in Indiana, we are required to have 50 square feet per kid per bedroom? I measured Luke's after we found that out...he's good, his is 120 square feet.).
(Side note: during home visit #4, when we were starting on baby #2, we were getting towards the end of the bathroom project but the toilet still wasn't completely hooked up. It flushed, but only if you poured a bucket of water down it. We put the tank on the back so it would look functional but it certainly wasn't. Luckily, that social worker didn't ask to use the bathroom. Social worker on visit #5 did.)
Instead of spending 90 minutes inspecting our house, most of these home visit have been spent talking. About us: our relationship with each other, our relationship with our parents, relationship with siblings, what our hobbies are. As an (self-diagnosed) introvert, it's a little exhausting. Trying to figure out the right things to say, summarize the wonderfulness of your parents in just a few sentences. Trying to convince these people that you are fit parents.
I might prefer the white glove test and admiring my organization.
For this home visit we didn't do much to prepare. Matt spent one evening straightening up the basement (it's never NOT going to be a problem area). I did my usual weekly cleaning the day before and clutter pick-up that morning. Took care of a few of those little nagging things that don't take much time but seem to build up anyways. But really, we didn't do much extra. (And maybe our house is generally cleaner and more organized, even with a kid, than it was five years ago.) And that was it. Low stress, little worrying.
On this visit we had to fill out some paperwork (at least no questions about our "early sexual experiences" on this one) and so spent most of it at our dining table. I moved the table runner out of the way and there was a nice dust ring around it since I usually don't move that to clean. And you know what? It didn't even bother me.
Because here's what we've figured out after all these visits, all this adoption paperwork, all the waiting.
It doesn't matter.
Dust rings don't matter.
Having an organized linen closet doesn't matter.
Having beautiful newly refinished hardwood floors don't matter (although we did get complimented on them).
What matters is that we want to give a loving home to another baby, even if that comes with a little dust.
(Knowing we've already passed a few home studies doesn't hurt either.)
There is a lot more peace at this point in the adoption process than there was 5 years ago. We know that the system works. We know the beauty of adoption, the wonderful gift it can be. We can have faith that the right mother will find us with the baby we are meant to have.
And while it's taken YEARS and a decent amount of tears (on my end) to get to this point, it's a lot easier to let the little things go during the process. Not let every little bump send me spiraling. Not let things like a little dust throw off our home visit.
If you are just starting the process and dread the scrutinizing of every little part of your lives, just relax. You're doing what you need to do to get a baby. The social worker is doing what they need to do. They aren't going to throw you out of consideration because of a little dust or a disorganized pantry. God picked YOU to go through adoption because He knows you can handle it. Because this is what you need to do to get the baby you are meant to parent. And yes, it can suck, so bad at times, but once you get that baby you won't be able to imagine becoming a parent any other way. It's all worth it, I promise.
Just don't stress. Trust God. And maybe have a functioning toilet. Just in case.
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