My Baby is Coming

So, it looks like Tuesday the children will go home to their mother after court. This was confirmed by the county to my CHOR case worker. I have most of their things packed, but now I can choose the few outfits they will need over the next several days and get everything else packed away. My heart cannot comprehend this decision, it seems like the mother and the children are being set up for failure, but my opinion on the matter means zilch. I am as sad as I am anxious. My mantra is “my baby is coming!” and I try not to think about the absence that I will feel next Wednesday. I want to stay positive and up-beat and I want very much for my next placement to come quickly, but I need to keep my expectations in check. Only God knows how long I will wait for my child (I need to stop saying “placement” because this is not a foster care situation, this is *MY* child!!!). I’m steeling myself for the tears I know I will shed but also for the tears and sadness my parents will feel – they have grown so attached to the little guy (they haven’t seen the older child in months because she is never with me on the weekends). This too shall pass. My baby is coming.

 

There is one thing that I still find worrisome. I read other foster-to-adopt blogs and I read articles about foster care and adoption. In my readings I have come across foster/adoptive families that proclaim a wonderful, familial relationship with the biological parents/family of their foster/adoptive children. I have read some cases of how foster families have worked just as hard as the biological family for reunification with great success. With my first child, I had absolutely no parental or biological family involvement. The parental rights had been terminated months before the child was placed in my (our) home, so there was no visitation, no worry that things would change, it was as cut and dry as a foster-to-adopt placement could be. My first foster placement, the older child, had visits with her sisters but only two visits with her mother before the court put a stop to that due to issues that came out during the visits. I don’t know if visits were ever reconvened because the child moved on to a more appropriate home. The sibling group I had in November had weekly visits but I had no interaction with their mother or the relative that took them in after being with me for a month. This case I have now is the first time I have ever had to interact with family members of the children and I have not found it to be a positive experience. While I feel like I tried to promote a positive relationship, encouraging the mom to call the children on my cell phone or call/text me if she felt the need, this privilege (that is how I see it, sorry but I do) was abused. When I didn’t answer my phone, threatening messages were left on my voicemail. When the older child’s relative got my cell phone number (it is still a mystery how she got my number because the county denies giving her my number or permission to call me to talk to the child) the mother called me berating me for allowing this relative to talk to her daughter because she never gave permission for that. I got nasty text messages telling me the children’s clothing smelled because I didn’t use the right fabric softener. I was quizzed about tiny insignificant scratches on the children and again threatened about the alleged evidence of physical abuse. I had a heated conversation regarding the older child calling me “mommy” and how this was simply not acceptable. There were multiple issues with the length of the children’s pants, the size of their shoes, and keeping many, many clothing items sent along for a visit. That was all just with the mother! With the relative, I had to force the child to talk to someone calling from jail. I had to deal with waiting for her to be returned at 10:30 at night (on several occasions) and picked up and dropped off willy nilly, with a complete disregard to the schedules and lives of others (including 2 baby-sitters). I asserted my boundaries (with little backing from either agency) and in the case of the mother, blocked her number in my phone. Because I read about such wonderful “co-parenting” that other foster-to-adopt parents have had, I beat myself up over not being able and at this point not being willing, to bridge the gap and have a good relationship with the biological family of the children in my care. Could I have done something more? The mother and I started off on the wrong foot. The first time I met her, when I went to pick the children up after a visit, she was incredibly rude. Sure, I was there to take her children, so I let it roll off my back. But, she followed that up by constantly complaining to the county and CHOR, leaving threatening voicemails and absurd text messages and it all went downhill from there. I don’t think I am hard to get along with, but there is only so much bitching I can hear before my bullshit meter blows a gasket. Nitpicking is not a way to endear yourself to my heart. I put up with it until last month, when I had enough of the verbal malice and blocked the number (actually, since AT&T makes you pay for that, what I did was make her calls ring right to voicemail. She can still text but I ignore them). Soon they will be out of my life and I won’t have to worry about it. But, I do worry about the next situation I might find myself in. I mean, let’s face it, my goal is not reunification. I want to keep their baby!! We seem diametrically opposed in this situation – one is gaining what another is losing. I do feel badly for the biological family losing their child to the adoptive family, but obviously I identify a whole lot more with everything the adoptive family has had to do and endure to be able to adopt the precious little life in the balance. I am cognizant of the fact that the best thing to ever happen to me is the worst thing to happen to someone else. Mostly, I hope that the child I get to adopt has no biological family involvement – this of course is for purely selfish reasons. At best, I can pray for the grace to deal with whatever situation that presents itself. I want to be the bigger person, really I do, but seeing someone so irresponsible, living a morally bankrupt life getting the most precious gift that I can only dream about, well all my good intentions drain right away. I am open to keeping some form of relationship with the biological family, depending on how healthy that might be for my child and I hope we can at least have cordial interactions, but I just don’t know. If I am in a situation like I am right now, I would not be inclined to have much family involvement (well, maybe the relative of the older child could come to birthday parties and things like that). There is a part of me (that little selfish part) that wants to just close ranks and be my family and my friends and not include the “others” but in the end, I know I will do what I think is best for the child. I guess that will need to be my focus – what is best for the child? I know there are other people who really like the biological family of their foster children, but I have not been so fortunate. I hope this is and example of the worst case scenario and that the next time I’m dealing with biological family there is more mutual respect and open communication. But, more importantly – MY BABY IS COMING!!!! J     

I Want You!

“I want you!” That’s what the little girl cried this morning as I tucked her into her car seat in the CHOR van to go visit her mother. She had a vice grip on my left arm, refusing to let me go, wailing, “I want you!” I wiped away her tears, kissed her on the forehead and told her she would have a nice visit and have lots of fun and I would see her later. I am sure she knows something is happening. I sent three Rubbermaid containers with them full of odds and ends that got moved with them to my place over 8 months ago on January 12^th. She must understand what that means, she is such a smart girl. My heart broke seeing her cry, having to wrestle my arm from her grasp, listening to her begging me not to leave her. Does she know it is all over as of Tuesday? Does she know how badly I hurt and how I don’t want them to do, how much I will miss them both? I walked away from the van and got back into my car, my heart heavy. I can be all Suzie Sunshine, one door closes another door opens, God has a plan, but that doesn’t erase the stark reality of the pain. The pain of knowing I will never see them again after Tuesday. I will never know how well they do with the adjustment, how well they do in school, what they decide to be when they grow up. I won’t see them grow beyond what I have seen in the past 8 months and I will never get to applaud their accomplishments, help heal their wounds, or give them encouragement as they make their way through life. I am not their mother. I mothered them for a short time, I gave them all I had for a short time and now that time has come to an end. I wish it were different, but this is the outcome that has been in play since before the children moved to my house in January. I am ready to move on. I am officially approved and ready to adopt, so now all I need is my baby to find his/her way into my arms.

 

From the woman who drives them to their visits, both baby-sitters, their previous CHOR case worker, my parents, friends, other foster parents, anyone who has met these children and knows they are going home to a mom with a newborn says, “This ain’t gonna work out!” Knowing how active these children are and how much of a handful they are (especially the older child), going home to a single mother with a tenuous support system at best and a brand new baby seems like a recipe for disaster. People are placing a bet on how quickly all three children will be back in care. And here’s the thing – if they call me my only question will be “is their case legal risk or adoption?” because if it is not, no matter how much I love these children, I will not be taking them back. I am saying this now, I am telling myself because I know I will want to cave and take them back, but I cannot endure more time in the land of limbo. I am only taking in a legal risk or adoption case. Period. I have waited a long time, I have gone through enough, it is my time. I would be incredibly sad if these kids were adopted by someone else, but I can’t keep playing the game to see if that would happen. I’m not the gambling type. I will wait for my baby and pray that he/she comes quickly. I’m ok with doing respite for other foster families and I hope I get calls for that because it will keep me busy, but I will not take on a foster care case. A friend told me today, after finding out how old I will be next Tuesday, that 32 is a good age to become a mother. I can’t help but agree! I know that legal risk cases can take longer than a year and I’m ok with that. As anxious as I am to make everything official, I’m more anxious to just get the placement, to get my baby in my home. Hopefully soon I will be writing to say “MY BABY IS HERE!” Let’s all keep our collective fingers crossed! J   

One Week Left

One week left. A week from today the children will be in court for the official reunification with their mother. When the case worker was at my place last week she wasn’t 100% certain the children would go straight home after court but she conceded that this case has been highly unusual from the word “go” and so she didn’t really know the exact date of return. There is no question that the children will be going home, it is just a matter of when. My previous case worker was under the impression that the children would return immediately following court. This case worker has been trying to get an answer from the county but has not had much luck in getting her phone calls returned. Welcome to my world……

 

I had such a lovely weekend with the baby. And this may sound odd considering he threw up on me twice Saturday afternoon, but he was rather well-behaved before and after the vomiting incident. He was crabby later on that day, but nothing over-the-top. Saturday we went with a friend of mine to a fall festival in which they shut down a major thoroughfare and had various artists set up tents to peddle their wares along with the various specialty boutiques sprinkled among the 6 block stretch. It was a warm and semi-cloudy afternoon, but still nice enough. We had made our way through nearly the entire fair and stopped in a bakery for my friend to take something sweet home for her son. The little guy began to gretz and wanted me to hold him. I slid him out of the stroller and when I picked him up, he put his head on my chest and he felt warm. I had just finished telling my friend he felt warm when I felt something sticky slide down between the cleavage crevice. The vomit slid down the front of me onto the floor, splattering my feet and sandals. I switched him to my right arm and dabbed at the puke with my left hand, mostly concerned for my scarf and the purse strap when I felt the warm sticky feeling running down the outside of my right arm and splattering to the floor. People ran in fear and I felt awful for chasing away customers, but at the same time I was covered in puke and the lousy paper napkins were doing nothing more than smearing the goo around. The baby began to cry. I aborted my attempt to clean us off and cuddled him as my friend grabbed the stroller and we marched back to the car. We had about 2 blocks to walk and carrying the vomit encased little one was a struggle because he is a big boy! But, we made it, I stripped him down to his diaper and plopped him in the car. Luckily I was wearing layers and was able to take the one shirt off and drive home in my tank top. After a double shower and costume change we headed out to my sister’s boyfriend’s mothers 50^th birthday party. The little guy was feeling better and actually ate quite a bit of food but towards the end he was feeling warm again, so we left early and put him in bed. Sunday morning at church I was sitting down and he had been sitting on my lap facing forward as we sang the worship songs. At one point he turned and laid his head on my shoulder and fell asleep. He has only ever fallen asleep while I was holding him one time and he was much younger than he is now. I took advantage of the cuddle time and tried to put the feeling of impending doom and loss from my mind.

 

It is so hard for me to imagine not having these kids with me. It is hard to think that (hopefully) in the near future I will be cuddling another baby and getting a different child into a routine. It is also so hard for me to imagine keeping that child and having all the agency stuff wither away and let us live our lives as a family. I feel a lot more somber now in my approach. I think I am more emotionally cautious and unsure. Previously, I felt so righteous about deserving to be a mother; it was hubris. Being a mother is not a right, it is a gift. I can blubber and blather all I want about *my* plans and *my* desire and how I can provide stability and love and wonderful family connections – but in the end, I am no more or less deserving than any other woman to be a mother. I’m not the same person I was in December of 2008 when I agreed to toss out the birth control pills and delightfully start a family, blissfully unaware that my ovaries were so disinclined to accommodate. The whole first year it was playful banter and guessing which month would be *the* month. But, as the year whizzed by and no pregnancy was to be seen, doubt and fear began to creep in and it wasn’t long before the fears were confirmed – there was a problem. But, sometimes the solution is first to identify the problem and then determine how to fix it, so with renewed hope, we marched on to the infertility clinic, only to once again be let down. We regrouped and took up a new tactic – adoption. With a mixture of caution and hope, we plodded through the paperwork and the training and the waiting. We got excited with each and every phone call until we got our very first placement! I will never, ever in all my life forget that feeling when we drove home from CHOR with a little one and all his stuff jammed into the backseat of our car. I kept peaking  behind my seat to stare in wonder at this miracle – they really let us drive off with a child in our backseat! He was ours! The journey has come to an end! My heart was elated, my spirit soared in a way it hadn’t in over 3 years. But, this joy was short-lived and the dreams came crashing down, shattering my entire world, plunging me into a darkness I am only now pulling myself out of. After all of this, after the newness of this endeavor wore off and the naiveté was replaced with determination, the elusiveness of the dream still encompasses my life, it still clouds my ability to see a brighter future. It’s like I have infertility PTSD; I duck and cover when I see an incoming pregnant woman, I have nightmares that are in fact my own reality, I remember seeing my dreams die before me feeling so helpless to save them and yet so responsible for their demise. I cannot function in the “real world” like a normal civilian because I am always looking over my shoulder seeing an invisible enemy. I don’t know if this pain will ever go away completely. I cannot rewrite the past and I cannot ignore how much this chapter in my life has changed me. I was telling a friend that I was approved as an adoptive home last Friday and that I have been communicating with someone special I really like and she said “it seems like things are all coming together for you” and I could not find it in myself to joyfully agree with her; there was still something painful lurking just under my rib cage, a twinge letting me know that it was all too precarious to trust wholeheartedly. I hate that feeling, but I just could not shake it. The old demons might have left but they did not go far; they hover just above me ready and waiting to snatch away any small shred of joy I manage to acquire. I don’t think so much about my next placement as I used to. I made myself stop daydreaming about “the call” or what gender/age the baby will be. I just wake up and put one foot in front of the other, praying for guidance, for wisdom and praying for my baby; and then I get on with my life. My hands are open, my heart is ready, please dear God bless me with a baby……    

It's Official!

I had my meeting with the adoption case worker today to review my family profile and I am officially approved as an adoptive family (it seems so weird and silly to call myself a "family"). The report was rather similar to my autobiography (I'm mean, my story is my story, right?) with the addition of financial information, background check stuff, the case workers opinions of me and the house and the interviews from my three references. The things my friends said about me moved me to tears. I mean, I know we are friends and they like me and all, but they said such kind things about me so deserving to be an adoptive mother, how nice of a person I am and how much I care for the children. I really did get tears in my eyes while reading it and needed to stop and take a breath. I feel unworthy of such adoration and praise!

I took the day off of work, so I am back home now thinking of all the things I want to get done before I pick the little guy up from the sitters. I thought I would be more elated about completing this milestone today, but I'm actually feeling pretty down. I think the fact that the little ones are leaving very soon is finally settling in and weighing on my heart and mind. I don't want this to rob my joy of the moment because I am one very large step closer to adoption! All I need now is the child that will become mine! My information is now officially available for other counties to view when considering an adoptive home for placement. Of course, this does not mean I will get an immediate placement, the length of my wait is anyone's guess. But, I am one step closer and that is definitely a cause for celebration! :)

The Baby is Here

Not my baby. The kids mother has given birth. She had a baby boy on Monday and the kids are having a visit to meet their new baby brother tomorrow. The new case worker was over at my place Tuesday night and she notified me of the baby's arrival and of the up-coming visit. We also discussed the timing of the kids going home. The case worker said she is not sure if the county might change the date for a week or two out, since the baby was late. She is not 100% sure that the kids will go home on the first after court or if a decision will be made for the date of return at court. She has a call into the county worker to get some insight into the situation. She is hoping to have an answer by Monday. I just go with the flow, like a little river plant firmly planted in the sandy bottom but swayed and moved by the ebb and flow of the current.

Friday I have a meeting with the adoption case worker to review my completed family profile. She called me today with a few lingering questions and said everything looks good but she does have some concern about how I will manage with the finances after the foster care support ends and the child is officially mine. I don't have any really great responses to that, only that I'm working my arse off to get out of debt and become more financially stable. If they decide to turn me away due to that reason, I guess my journey will be over and I will need to realize that I was never meant to be a mother. I guess I am just trying to be ok with whatever comes my way - good, bad, and everything else. I'm done fighting an uphill battle for everything.....

The End is Near

The kids are going home on my birthday, October 1^st. That is their next court date and it is expected that they will go home this same day. I don’t know why, but it bugs the hell outta me that they are leaving on my birthday. Maybe because I will remember that date all the more poignantly…. So I will be 32 and still childless. And I found out last week that someone at work who was so adamant about only having one child, is SURPRISE, unexpectedly expecting. Whatever…..

 

Last night I had a physical with my doctor and because I’m using a new baby-sitter I had to take the kids with me. It was a nightmare and one of the nurses (she works in a FAMILY doctor’s office, so you think she would be used to kids?) was blatantly unhappy and disapproving of the kids less than stellar behavior (something about being in a doctor’s office makes them act like total animals). Yesterday was a test of endurance, I swear; I woke up with massive cramps and bleeding through a tampon and overnight pad (thanks PCOS) about an hour before my alarm was set to go off, worked all day then grabbed the kids and raced to the doctor’s office where I was given a tetanus booster and TB test (do you have any idea how many needles I have had stuck in me just to get a child?) which made my arm sore only to go home and find the dog pulled one of the poopy diapers out of the trash (the baby had bad diarrhea over the weekend so I put Desatin on him and needed to use a stupid disposable instead of my usual cloth diapers which apparently the dog finds a delectable treat…) and smeared shit all over the living room rug. I kid you not, that was my Monday. Anyway, I needed to have the physical for the whole adoption profile thing to prove I am healthy enough to be a mother. I felt great about doing really good on my eye test, despite holding one screaming, squirming child (holding him after he ran off) and trying to get the other child to stop poking the nurse and the eye chart, demanding it was her turn. Go me! The only last thing I need before I am totally completed with the adoption profile is for the adoption case worker to come back one more time to observe me and the children (which now she needs to do before the first). Well, I need to go back to the doctor’s tomorrow to get my TB test read, but other than those two things, I am done!

 

As of the first of October, the children will have lived with me for 263 days – that is 8 months and 20 days (3 months and 12 days shy of a full year). My longest placement by far! Although I am anxious to move on, I also know I have not yet felt the pain of losing these kids after such an extended period of time together. I guess 8 months isn’t all that long in the grand scheme of things, but looking back on the first few pictures I took of the kids, it makes me realize how much they have grown and how far they have come. I know my parents are devastated to lose the little guy, they love him so much. I’m trying to protect myself by looking forward. But, just yesterday I heard yet another horror story about a family potentially losing a baby they want to adopt because of the stupid system. I can’t let myself think about that either. I’m so tired of living in fear! First there was the fear that I would never get pregnant (and this fear was a realized), then the whole separation calamity and now not only do I fear I won’t be good enough for an agency to place a child with me, but I also fear that if and when they do, I could lose the baby to the whims of a corrupt, incorrigible, fickle, heartless system! I must only think positively. My baby is coming. Period. This next placement will be my child, end of discussion. I know that people have waiting longer than 5 years to become a parent, but I’m rounding third and headed home on my 5^th year of waiting (we decided the end of December 2008 to start trying in January of 2009) and praying and hoping to become a mother and at times it feels like that is all I will ever do – wait. I’m not even sure I will know what to do with myself when I do become a mother. I don’t know if it will feel real. I’ve been called “mommy” by all of my placements at one time or another. Some, like the two I have now, call me mommy all the time, others just once or twice. But, like everything else, I have had to harden my heart to hearing mommy and tell myself each and every time they evoke that precious name, “I’m not really their mommy, I’m just their foster mommy.” There is something gratifying about hearing the children call me mommy, I’m not gonna lie about that. But, it also hurts because soon they won’t be calling me anything. At night when I am drifting off to sleep, I tell myself stories about how it is going to happen; the call, meeting my child for the first time, going through the whole process and then the culmination of all the waiting ending in a court room somewhere with me and the baby all decked out and ecstatic about finally becoming a family. I dream of what my baby will look like, how old he/she will be, how he/she will fit into my life and my family. And I think of all the things we will do together. Most of the time I dream about being able to bring a baby home from the hospital, because this is my heart’s desire. But, I also don’t want to wait another 5 years for the possibility of that to happen, but it can’t hurt to dream, right? Oh but it can! Dreaming a dream that never comes true burns deep in my soul, consuming all that is within me…. I think back to the spring with the potential placement for two little boys, age 6 and 4 and how distraught I was about that whole scenario. I was upset because while I would be ok taking a 4-5 year old child with a younger sibling, I would hope the sibling would be a baby. I don’t know how to make that make sense to anyone other than myself. I hope that soon I can stop dreaming about if and when and start dreaming about all the wonderful things we will be doing together…… I’m looking forward to permanency. Right now, I have clothing for various ages and sexes tucked away “just in case.” I have a bedroom set up with a toddler bed (which can be converted into a crib) and a twin bed, never sure of what to expect. I have big Rubbermaid containers piled in my bedroom waiting to be moved on with these kids. I have various sizes of diapers, both disposables and cloth and I have 4 different sized car seats, for “whatever.” I have toys for various ages, I have baby food, baby bottles and formula (which, I need to make sure that hasn’t expired). I have a high chair and booster seat, a bassinet and baby tub. I have receiving blankets, cuddly blankets, a baby monitor, burp cloths, and bath toys. All I need now is a baby! So, if you are the praying sort, please send a few little words to the man upstairs and if you are not the praying sort, please cross a couple fingers that this journey to become a mother will soon be over and I will BE a mother……  

The Verdict

Court was yesterday and the children went home only for an overnight visit. I am getting the little guy back tonight and the older child will return on Monday (she got a longer stay because it is her birthday this weekend). But, things are no less confusing than before court. It seems like the immediate future was the only thing considered – no one really thought past the mom giving birth and how soon the children will return after that. My case worker suggested the children will be going home within the next 30 days. *** Quick side note, my case worker is leaving CHOR next Friday, so she will not be around to see this case to through to the bitter end…. *** The children will have extended overnight visits with their mother for the foreseeable future, although it sounds like there is some confusion regarding the dates/times of these visits.

 

Part of me is frustrated because I really thought they would be going home after court. It’s not that I want them to go, it’s just that I want to move on and get ready for *MY* child to come home. Of course, it makes more sense waiting until their mom has settled in with the new baby before sending them home to her – three children 4 and under is a lot to take care of! I don’t know if court needs to be set up again to determine when the kids can move, I know a big fat nothing. In reality, nothing has really changed in my world – these two kids come and go multiple times a week and I just try to straighten it all out in my head so I know what I am doing and where I need to be.

 

I have surprised myself with how calmly I took the news and while I was looking forward to getting on with my life and having an empty home just waiting to accept my permanent placement, I am not as frustrated as I have been in the past after hearing the court decrees. If nothing else, this case has taught me to just roll with the punches; one never knows what’s going to happen next. When these kids moved in with me, I was told they would be going home in 6-8 weeks. Then I was told their mother was pregnant and things were not looking good. All of a sudden things turned around and were looking swell again, until they weren’t….. Now things seem to be all good again, but mom is about to pop (so much for being due in November), so that’s the new hold up. I hear 30 days and say, “Yeah right! I will believe it when I see it!”

 

So, here we are! The placement that just won’t quit! Next week the children will be with me for 8 months, nearly doubling my previous placement record of 4 ½ months. If the children stay for another 30 days, that will put us at nearly 9 months together; ¾ of the year!! How insane is that?! Last year, I was so hoping to get a legal risk or adoption placement before Christmas, which didn’t happen. When Christmas came and went, I consoled myself by saying, “This is the last childless Christmas! Surely by next year I will have a permanent placement and be moving towards adoption.” I know it is only the beginning of September right now, but given that this 6-8 week placement has stretched into 8 months, it doesn’t seem too far-fetched that it could go a few more months. And, while I could be wrong, I think it will take some time for a legal risk/adoption placement to find me. Even if my personal statistic holds true of waiting roughly a month between placements, if these kids are with me beyond November, I will be childless yet again at Christmas time. I hated Christmas for the first time in my life last year. I hated being single (separated) and childless and just wanted the whole merry season to be over. Scrooge had nothing on my bah-humbug feelings! I guess I am getting ahead of myself now. For all I know the kids could go home in two weeks and it will all be over and I will be waiting for my child. I think I just worry about not being seen as “good enough” for a placement; I worry I will forever be over-looked for more “suitable” couples seeking to adopt an infant or young child. I keep telling myself that God is in control of this whole mess and that He has a good plan for my life, but I can’t help but feeling like I just don’t deserve to be blessed. I don’t know why, but I just feel like I simply do not deserve the blessing of motherhood. Maybe it has something to do with guilt over being a single mom and having to have my child go to daycare (I was never in daycare, my mom stayed home for 10 years with my younger siblings and me – but that was a different time, it is hard nowadays to live off of just one salary and have the other parent stay home with the children). I even find I have a hard time praying for the tiny bundle of joy I so desperately want…. Yes, I want an infant. I can still remember how wonderful (and a little scary) it felt when I had the 10 day old baby. My favorite time was at night, after the older girls went to bed and settled down and it was just me and the baby. I adored giving her a bath in her little tub on the kitchen table. I savored the smell of a clean baby as I lathered her with lotion and dressed her in her pajamas and wrapped her lovingly in her blanket. And then we would cuddle and I would doze for a bit until she decided she was hungry. We would cuddle some more as I fed her and burped her and then tucked her into bed. I loved her so dearly and was so crushed when she and her sisters left so quickly. I would have gladly kept them all! I cherish the memory of the precious little baby and ache so much for that experience to come back to me……   

 

I think I am feeling a little bit jaded in regards to foster care and adoption. The newness has worn off, the maliciousness of the system has been revealed and I have had to harden my heart to get through it all. I feel more calloused to the plight of the children and I hate that. But, caring as deeply as I did, wanting to see the “right thing” done to benefit the children, this only made me crazy and didn’t affect any change whatsoever. Everyone has different ways of coping and mine has been to stay focused on the future and what “will” happen. Worrying that these two kids might not be well-taken care of going home to an immature mother and brand new baby does me no good and does nothing for the children either. I learned the hard way that you don’t try to fight the system because you will get burned – big time. I pray to God I am wrong and that the children will go on to live fruitful and fulfilling lives in a happy family environment.

 

 

Dear God, please let my baby find me soon. Help me to keep my heart open, to keep up the hope and have faith that You have a good plan for my life. Help me to endure the time I will be waiting and to find encouragement from You and my friends and family. Thy will be done Lord. Amen.