Wednesday, September 29, 2010

"Don't get your hopes up, but be prepared!"...

Those are the not so soothing words of our social worker in an email I got this afternoon. A little ironic given my last post! Oh you know, it was nothing major, just a "by the way if the birth parents do pick you, the baby will need to be picked up that evening" kind of email. If I had a nickel for every time I got one of those...oh wait, that's right I'VE NEVER GOTTEN AN EMAIL LIKE THAT!
Then I started to think....God is bigger than all of this. He is the one who orchestrated this whole thing, whether it turns out the way we want it to or not. For some reason we were meant to be a part of this chaos this week and if it's all in the name of parenthood then by all means, count me in. I don't know why He chose this for us this week. I don't know if it was to show the other people what they would be missing if they passed on the opportunity to be this child's parents. I just plain don't know.
I'm on my knees this week and I would love it if you would be too...whoever you are.

Is it bad that I hope?...

That the foster parents decide to get freaked out again over an open adoption? That there's some little spark of confidence we can install into the birth parents brain from just our photo and the questionnaire we had to fill out? That one week from today I'll have met her? That if it doesn't work out I wish I would have never known about her?
Hope can be a positive thing that's for just depends how you choose to hope. In this case, my hope is a lot selfish.

Monday, September 27, 2010

I hate this, I love this... started like any other fabulous day off. Slept in, had a few things on my plate that needed finished but overall it was meant to be a pretty chill day. Until. I received an email from our old fab social worker, Jan. Two and half month old little girl, African American, parents are VERY young and in foster care, baby is in foster home. She thought of us, how badly she wants to place a child with us and wanted to let us know that they were going to be using special needs pricing for this adoption even though she's perfectly healthy, because she's african american and not a newborn they were having a hard time placing her. Through a series of emails it all boiled down to this...$3625.00 (instead of $12,900) not including legal fees ($1500) and she's ours if the birth "parents" like us. I seriously couldn't believe it, this really couldn't be happening. What are the odds???? After we'd decided that fostering was for us and that we were completely discounting domestic adoption any longer and this happens. So we said yes, please consider us and Jan said she had to make a phone call to the caseworker and she'd get back to me ASAP with details. Long story short, the foster parents who had the little girl from the beginning want to adopt her...after they said they didn't want to adopt her because they weren't comfortable having an open adoption. They changed their minds. Suck. Being on the receiving end of someone changing their mind really seriously bites. We aren't out of the running completely...Jan still wants to send our file over to the other case worker and have her present it to the birth parents. There is smidge...and itty bitt little speck of "maybe" involved in this right now. What about our file would cause these two very young teenagers to choose us and not the people who have already cared for this little girl for two and a half months? Probably nothing.

I hate this...because I hate having my heart broken. I hate getting my hopes up. I hate dreaming about holding and loving a child I've never met. I hate the uncertainty, and the miscommunication.


I love this...because I love that a child will have a home with someone who deserves to know them. I love that a forever family will be formed. I love that one day I'll be on the receiving end of this wild ride whether through fostering, domestic, or international adoption. I love that it makes me thankful for my family and the fact that my parents made a decision to keep me and love me. The loves outweigh the hates, it's just the hates that hurt the most.

Tuesday, September 7, 2010

To rise above and persevere...

I've had this rolling around in my noggin' for the last week or so and it's only just now that I'm able to put my fingers to these buttons and put these thoughts to words. A friend of mine has a foster daughter right now who has been through the ringer...I mean if you even THINK you've had it bad, her story is just unreal. Abandoned by her mother, her father was unable to care for her, she's been bounced from foster home to foster home, was adopted for two years and then "returned" because they couldn't "handle" her behavior, and is now in her 3rd or 4th foster home since March. A couple weeks ago her father (whom she had seen just a couple months ago for the first time in like 6 years) passed away. Her 19 year old brother is left to plan a funeral. Seriously??? As if this 12 year old hasn't had enough challenges in her little life, enough heartache to fill a life time. After hearing this I asked Tyler, "How the heck do you teach a young child to rise above and persevere through such horror?". I mean there are plenty of people who have experienced horrible things in their life and have gone on to be very successful and notable individuals, but who taught them that? Is it just something built inside every one of us and we just have to be lucky enough to unearth it? How do I teach my future foster children that they can change their lot in life when the most pain and suffering I've been through in 27 years of living doesn't even begin to compare to their ten? I'm asking all these questions to myself and I have yet to come up with any good answers. If you ever wonder what the heck Tyler and I are thinking by doing fostering (which I can't imagine that you would since I've made it abundantly clear in most posts) this is why. That little girl is the answer. She's hurting, she's callous, she's distant, unemotional, abandoned, an orphan, and in her eyes...not good enough for not only one, but two sets of "parents". She doesn't want a new mommy or daddy, she wants HER mommy and HER daddy. She wants what everyone talks about, normalcy. Her normal isn't anything like her friends normal. She is why we want this for our family right now. I know it'll hurt and I know that we'll encounter children on many occasions who don't appreciate the home and bed we'll give them but guess what...I don't care. Later in life, if we're the only friendly and loving face they can remember that's enough for me.

Wednesday, September 1, 2010

Almost baby...

I saw a picture of you today. You have beautiful, big brown eyes and curly hair and even though your daddy is african american and your mama white, you still have creamy white skin. You were sitting in the tub with your sister and brother, smiling, splashing in the water. I'm sure I would have this exact same picture of you if you were mine...sans the brother and sister of course. Maybe it would have been a picture of your almost papa making your hair into a sudsy mohawk, or me swaddling your squishy clean little body into a towel. It would have most certainly preceded a book reading, rocking chair cuddling, hair smelling, kissing you over and over again bedtime routine. I would have told you I loved you more now than I did yesterday, and that I was proud to be your mama. I guess I can still be proud that I was your almost mama. That you'll never ever know for the rest of your life someone out there thinks about you in the same way your own mother does. That every year on your birthday I'll say a little prayer wishing you safety and a life full of love. I miss you my almost son...and even though seeing your face today brought back some memories I don't prefer to have, it gave me a glimpse into your life now, your life without me...splashing in a tub.