Yesterday I felt a flicker of hope. Last night it flamed a bit and I tried to douse it, tried to put it out. I shouldn’t hope things will be smoother than not in our adoption journey. After 30 months of rough and tumble, I should know better. I really should.

If it can take six months or two days, my process will take one year – but I will have hoped for the two days. You see how this works? We are the Murphy’s Law of adoption: If it can go wrong, it will.

The latest drama has been missing paperwork – the original placement paperwork that my son’s birth mom, Jimmy and I signed over two years ago. My son’s adoption can’t finalize until that is found, or until we sign new ones with the Independent Adoption Worker we used back then. If not, we have to hire a new one and start all over.

I read an email from my lawyer yesterday that got me excited. One small line of text in between all the other lines gave me hope. “Call the county clerk’s office and see if they have the original paperwork filed with them.”

Could it be? All this time the originals were sitting in a folder somewhere at the courthouse?

I called the court house, waited and pressed buttons to navigate a long phone tree. The first time I was disconnected because no one was available. I tried again. And again. On the fourth round someone answered and I relayed my concern that they might have the original paperwork.

“I’m sorry we can’t share any information on adoptions.”

“But, I don’t need the specific information; I just need to know if you have blue ink or original signatures on those papers.”

“Let me talk to my supervisor – first can you give me the name on the case?”

I gave her my son’s and my husbands and my name. I said if she needed my son’s birth parents names, I could give her those too.

She said, “Hold one minute.”

I waited, anticipating.

She came back on the line. “OK, what dates would this have been filed?”

I told her.

“Well, I do see an open case here on that date. Beyond that I can’t share any information on adoptions.”

“No, I don’t want specific information. I just need to know if there is anyway you can tell me if they are original files and not copies.”

“Oh, well I can tell you we don’t accept copies of anything – we only accept originals.”

I bit my lip. “Okay, thank you for your help.” I hung up and then wrote back my lawyer.

The rest of the day I wondered, in my paperwork did I have a copy of these papers ‘filed’ with the court? It could be – it could. Because our adoption took a different turn and went into a contested trial – they could have been filed at the court.

Once home from work, I rummaged through the documents that were in Craig’s to-be-kept-until-he’s-old-enough box. I found them. Copies of all the paperwork my son’s birth mom, Jimmy and I signed that were filed with the court. The placement papers, the birth family history – all of our signatures and our social workers. These were the papers everyone was looking for – if the court only accepted originals….

I won’t hope.

I can’t hope but I’ll keep biting my fingernails.

No, I am hoping.

I am.

I really, really am.

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