Making a Diamond

It’s the not knowing that kills me. Not knowing the end results just prolongs the suffering because your brain latches onto the possibility that “it” could still happen – maybe the baby wasn’t taken yesterday but the county is still working on it and they might call me today. Maybe they are monitoring the parents and it could take several days before they are able to convince the judge to see things their way. If I only knew what happened yesterday afternoon, I could mourn the loss and move on. But, not knowing makes me crazy. So, of course the baby was the last thought I had as I drifted off to sleep last night and the first thought I had this morning. I told Primero the county had called me about him but I never heard back. Primero confidently assured me the baby would have to come back to us, I was his foster mother after all. He suggested I call the county to see what was going on. I demurred, telling him I didn’t want to poke the hornets’ nest and risk losing him just because I wanted to know what was happening with the baby. I am forever fearful of the wrath of BCCYS, having been on the wrong end of their displeasure until recently. No sir, I don’t want to piss them off over this and cause them to question my ability to care for Primero. In bitter moments I tell myself that the county most likely wants a two-parent household for the baby, one of “their” families not a CHOR family. I’m good enough for an emergency placement, but not for a long-term foster care placement. Would it not make sense to give the child back to the home he just left, where there is some understanding of his feeding schedule, his medical condition and his temperament? I think to the rest of the mortal world it would make sense, but BCCYS does not operate in the same capacity as the rest of the world and could have a million reasons why they would give the baby to someone else. Maybe I’ve been accused of not divulging all the imperative information to the parents, which is a load of bull – there were two BCCYS workers there to witness how thoroughly I explained things to the family. I did not rush, I showed them what the doctor drew for me, I explained the next steps to take, I gave them the business card the doctor gave me, I answered the questions I could  and when the doctor’s office called me twice Tuesday morning I directed them to call BCCYS (and I called and left a message for the case worker myself) to get in touch with the parents – what more could I do?

 

To force myself to get over this all, I finished putting away the detritus from the baby – I tucked the bottles back in the cabinet, washed the cloth diapers (astounded at just how many I used in the short time he was with me!), put the last bits of baby clothing away, put the car seat back in the basement; short of memories it was like he was never there. I cried a little when I laid down to sleep last night, but really, there’s no point. A friend of mine messaged me on Facebook after I posted I was drained from the chaotic messy life I have been living right now. She wanted to know what was wrong (and then afterwards disclosed that she was newly pregnant, ugh!). Well, on Saturday I took in an emergency foster care placement for a 2 month old baby boy. Monday I took him to Hershey Med for testing then took him home to his parents. Tuesday I had court with Primero, moving things in the direction of permanency for him. Wednesday I got a call asking questions about the doctor’s visit with the baby and what I had explained to the parents and telling me the baby might come back into placement. And, as if this was not enough, on Friday I will accompany my mother to her third round of chemo after getting my FMLA approval from work. I know the Bible tells us that God will never give us more than we can handle, but He is certainly pushing me very close to that point. I am feeling emotionally drained. I feel like I am all over the place – ecstatic that I get to adopt Primero, devastated that the baby left so quickly, worried about my mom, concerned about the time I’ve taken off of work this week when I have recently applied for a promotion. Chaotic. Messy. Discombobulated. In reality, I don’t know how I manage to hold it all together, it’s a lot for one person to handle! Certainly my faith helps me to keep things in perspective. I don’t know why things happen the way they do, why the baby had to come and go so quickly – or come at all. I have to latch onto the idea that God does have a plan for my life and while I cannot understand how all these steps (or missteps) fit into the grand scheme, I just have to trust it is in His control and things will happen as they are supposed to happen. I have control over nothing other than my own emotional responses to the things that occur in my life. I hope I’m handling this the way God wants me to, with the grace He has given me. What doesn’t kill you, makes you stronger. God must be trying to make me into a diamond…….       

Pure Madness

Saturday Primero and I were at the mall. I was trying on bras when my phone rang. It was one of the case workers from CHOR. Would I take an emergency placement? Primero and I went to the hospital to pick up a 2 month old baby boy, cute as a button. Sunday we took him to church. Monday I took him to Hershey Children’s Hospital for testing on his kidneys because he was having issues with fluid collecting around them. After an incredibly long day marching around the hospital with an infant strapped to my chest (I was using a Moby wrap, which I haven’t yet decided is the best invention on the planet or a torture device from hell itself), lugging his car seat, my purse and a stuffed diaper bag, we got back to the car and I saw I had a voicemail message. It was Primero’s case worker from CHOR. During court on Monday the judge ordered the baby be returned to his parents. I called her back and she asked if I would be able to take the baby to the parents with support from staff from BCCYS. It’s an hour drive without rush hour traffic to get home from Hershey, so it was later in the evening when I returned the baby and explained, as best I could and as thoroughly as I could, what the doctor had told me about the baby’s condition. The end.

 

Primero had court yesterday. I had been dreading his court date up until the meeting with the county last week when it was made clear that Primero would not be leaving. Court was rather uneventful. His mother did not show up and the hardest decisions made were when/how to have visits with his mother and whether the county could change his goal to PLC (permanent legal custody) with adoption as a secondary goal. Reunification was definitely taken off the table, that much was clear. We have a new court date for the end of September.

 

Earlier today I got a call from the county case worker for the baby asking for information about the doctor’s visit and stating the county might be taking emergency custody of the baby again. I gave the information that I could recall from the visit and told the case worker I would be glad to take the baby back. I don’t know if I have a chance at getting him back, but to me it would make sense since I took him to the doctor and learned a little about his condition from the original source, rather than a different foster home trying to get up to speed. The case worker just said ok and made no other promises, leaving me sitting on pins and needles the whole rest of the day. What a roller coaster ride! Ugh!

 

If your head is spinning from the reported incidents above, well it should be because mine sure is! It is pure madness, this life that I live as a foster mother. The emotional ups and downs are akin to self-flagellation all while attempting to do the right thing. I will tell you that I tried to not fall in love with the baby, but who can hold a precious little one with their big eyes staring up at you and not melt? But, there is also a strange juxtaposition for me;  on one hand, I have a great kid, an unexpected teenage son whom I love more than anything but, on the other hand I still have an unquenchable desire to have a baby. For a brief moment it seemed as if all my wildest dreams had come true. But, the baby was an emergency placement, easy come easy go (and since I didn’t hear anything back about him, I can only assume he stayed with his parents or went to another foster home). I’m trying so hard to make sure I keep my feelings in check on this because the last thing I want to do is make Primero feel unwanted. On Saturday as we rushed around to grab a few things (like the car seat, some outfits and blankets) to take to the hospital to pick up the baby, I grabbed Primero, looked him in the eyes and assured him that this baby coming changed nothing for him, other than some loss of my undivided attention. I didn’t want him to think the baby would usurp his position or make me change my mind about adopting him. Yesterday, as we sat waiting for court I told him that he was my main priority, as my soon-to-be son and that if he ever felt uncomfortable or disliked having other (foster) kids around, he would just have to tell me and we would remedy the situation. He told me he was ok with having little ones around and while at first he was frustrated that the baby disturbed his sleep, he started to like the little guy and took pride in making him laugh.

 

Maybe this baby coming and going on the eve of Primero’s court date was a test to see if I was genuinely interested in adopting Primero. It was a test to see if, given the choice of Primero or a potential baby to adopt (which was never the case for this little one), would I drop Primero like it ain’t no thang. Truthfully, I was grateful to have Primero to come home to, to fuss over and cuddle, rather than the unbearable pain of coming home to an empty house full of unneeded baby things I would have to tuck away once again. At this point, I must be an expert on lugging the cloth diapers, the bassinet, the car seat, and the bouncy seat from the basement; an expert on digging out the right size baby clothes then carefully tucking them back away. This time I was very quick about getting the baby paraphernalia stashed back in its hiding spots, lest I dwell too much on what could have been in front of Primero. Still, my heart aches and I can’t help but feel a little crushed at this new loss. While waiting for court yesterday, Primero was taken to his BCCYS case worker’s area for an up-dated photo. I sat with his case worker in the waiting room. She asked me how I was doing and I knew she meant with the baby, not with court that day. I told her it was a hard thing to do. She asked me if I wanted a baby and I told her I did. She asked if I wanted more than one child and I told her I never wanted to have an only child because I think having siblings is a wonderful thing. Then I told her what I told Primero, that he is my main priority right now. I don’t want anyone to think I don’t want Primero just because I do still want a baby. I don’t know how to make it make sense to anyone not living in my head, but it is what it is.

 

Last week before the meeting with the county, I had a terrifyingly real nightmare. I dreamt that I came home from work to find Primero, the CHOR case worker and the county case worker sitting on the couch in my living room. When I walked through the door Primero leapt off the sofa, flung himself on me and sobbed into my neck. I rubbed his back and asked him, “My goodness, what’s wrong?” I looked at his CHOR case worker and she had tears in her eyes, the county worker sat stone-faced, staring straight ahead. I asked again what was wrong and the county worker snapped, “He’s not staying with you. You’re not adopting him.” This caused Primero to wail even more piteously as I too began to cry. I woke myself from the nightmare and reminded myself it was just a dream. The fear I felt the other morning last week once again had my heart in its icy grip, twisting my insides into knots at the thought of losing Primero.

 

Luckily, the scenario from my dream is not what happened during the meeting last Thursday afternoon. On Wednesday we got a packet in the mail from BCCYS with reports on Primero’s situation and his mother’s situation and how it is or is not being resolved. The paperwork mentioned the county was recommending a change in his permanency plan from reunification to permanent legal custodianship. As I surmised, the county is preparing for a goal change at court next week and I guess this was their way of letting Primero and I know about it, although thankfully CHOR had already clued us in. The paperwork did not list who would take permanent legal custody and Primero questioned as to why it said “custody” and not “adoption.”  We learned the reason for this during our meeting.

 

When I got home, the county worker had not yet arrived, so it was just Primero and the CHOR case worker. They were sitting at the kitchen table chatting. The case worker was starting to tell me she had some news about Primero’s mom when the county worker arrived. At first we talked about school options for Primero to not have to attend the local junior high school because we all agreed we didn’t want him there. We talked about options and each case worker was self-assigned to investigate the options. Then the county worker said it was time to get serious. She asked Primero if he wanted her to tell him the bad news she had, if he would rather hear it in court, or if he would rather not hear it at all. He asked for her to tell him and it wasn’t great news about his mother and the brother closest in age to him. The county worker then brought up court and the options available. Before being asked, without being prompted, Primero said he wanted to be adopted. The county worker read through the differences between adoption and permanent legal custody (she called it PLC) for us both to understand the difference. She wants to tell the court to change his goal to PLC because then it’s all said and done – the county would close out his case with little effort. Adoption is a lot more work for the county and would take a lot more time. And, the county cannot ask for his goal to be changed to adoption in court next week because only a judge can do that and we are going to be before a magistrate who cannot legally change a permanency goal to adoption from reunification. After reading through the options, she asked which way we were leaning and Primero again said adoption. She asked if I was ok with that and I explained how I already have an adoptive home study done because that had been my goal for quite some time now.  The county worker was definitely leaning more towards PLC and had not really considered adoption because the length of time it would take to complete the process. She also listed a monetary difference between PLC and adoption, but never have I ever used money as part of my decision-making process when it comes to the kids I’ve had in foster care. With Primero being so adamant about adoption, there’s no way I would let the financial piece affect my decision now. The county worker wanted a definitive answer by court, but I think it’s for her own gratification and not ours because Primero and I have made up our minds. The nightmares can stop because he is mine, in one form or another. And I could not be happier!!!

 

Primero and I talked the other night about changing his name. He started the conversation by asking me if I was always going to call him by his first name or if I would ever use his nickname. I told him I didn’t use his nickname because I felt like it belonged to his family. He suggested we come up with a new nickname and I said that would be a good idea. He then asked me what his new last name would be, once I adopt him. I told him I would really like to change my name back to my maiden name and have him take that last name as well. He crinkled up his nose and told me he would rather take my current last name, if he had to change his name – really he would like to stick with the name he has. I told him I would really like us to have the same last name and that I didn’t really want to keep using my current last name because it belonged to my ex and was a constant reminder of him. The kid suggested a hyphenated last name with his current last name and my maiden name, which is 13 letters in and of itself! I suggested using his last name as a middle name or just keeping his name as is and not taking my last name. I don’t think we came to any conclusion and I’m sure we will need to rehash this conversation once the actual adoption day gets closer.

 

As she was leaving the meeting last week the CHOR case worker was gushing about how amazing I was as a foster parent and how happy CHOR was to have me as a foster mother and they are so proud of me. What do you say to that? I said thank you, but what more could I say? I guess I understand why they are happy about the situation, because Primero is happy. And they are probably glad I was open-minded when it came to taking this kid in the first place. I’m sure they appreciate that I’m cooperative and communicative about things and they can see how much I care for Primero and how bonded we are –all good things. Maybe I do love a little harder than other foster parents (to my detriment, I might add) and fight to protect the kids when I can, but isn’t this what all foster parents do? I know a lot of the foster parents and I have a great opinion about all of them because I think they are very caring individuals who take their job as foster parents seriously. It’s nice to be recognized for the hard work that I do and for CHOR to acknowledge that my heart is in the right place, but I am certainly not amazing, I’m just one woman with a heart big enough to love and nourish hurting kids. What more can I say?

Doubting Debbie

Out of nowhere I got this bone-chilling, stop-you-in-your-tracks feeling of fear; intense, bile-churning, heart-stopping fear. My stomach knotted in response and I held my breath, afraid to even exhale lest the fear be made true. What caused this stroke of anxiety to stricken me this morning? For some reason the story of my first foster care placement was on my mind when I woke up this morning. Specifically, the fateful phone call telling me the county, et al had decided to move this child, this boy who was already my son in my heart, to a two-parent home, regardless of the progress he had made with me. It was the same feeling I had this morning; my senses dulled, my world collapsed and all I was left with was the pain. I took a deep breath and reminded myself that this placement is different. I forced myself to take several slow and even breaths and then said out loud, “This time it’s different.” Flaco is already long gone, so his leaving cannot mess this placement up, causing the county to move Primero to a two-parent home. And while I continue to blog, I am super-cautious about what information I reveal in my blog to not break any confidentiality rules (a lesson I learned the hardest way possible). Everything has been kosher with the county thus far and after all that has happened, it would seem contradictory for the county to overrule CHOR’s recommendation that Primero stay with me permanently. Plus, Primero has a say in all of this and he’s said from the get-go that he wants to stay with me. After a few more cleansing breaths the fear abated and the claws of anxiety no longer threatened to pull me apart. Still, I’m feeling particularly cautious right now. I’m still a little on-edge. The blissful feelings of knowing Primero will be my son are now tinged with doubt and clouded with fear. This is the same county that took my first boy and then seemed to black list me from future adoptive opportunities (this is uncorroborated hearsay based more on how I felt I was mistreated by the county rather than documented truth). I would be a fool to not have at least a little trepidation in dealing with them on a pre-adoptive case again. I guess it is knowing the county worker is coming to talk to Primero tomorrow that triggered my near panic attack. It was like a little alarm started going off in my head but could not be heard over the booming voice singing “He’s my son!” That is until I fell asleep and the subconscious mind had a chance to go to work, needling its way through the joyful noise until it was screaming its own mantra, “What if they take him away?” It’s sad that I look with suspicion at the best thing that has happened to me in the past two years; I can’t help but feel, it’s too good to be true. That little Debbie Doubter in me is already packing Primero’s bag, just waiting for the axe to fall. I do my best to shush her into silence, but she is still there, casting her doubting glaze into my inner mind. I guess after everything that has happened, it does seem too good to be true, that I would be adopting a boy I love so much and who fits so perfectly into my life. It’s different this time. I have to believe that. And leave everything else in the Hands of my loving God.

But What About a Baby?

The CHOR case worker asked if she and the county worker could come see Primero on Thursday afternoon. They will meet with him briefly before I come home from work. My guess is that they want to have a conversation with him regarding the legal process we are about to commence to make what we have already accepted in our hearts become true – we are mother and son. That’s sheer speculation, but with the letter coming in the mail yesterday demanding I produce the child for the court date next week, I have a feeling they want to get all their ducks in a row. And I’m sure they want the opportunity to talk to him without me present to be sure there is no coercion on my part. They need to be sure he understands all the ramifications of the decision that has been made because the judge will be inquiring as to his understanding of it all. At least, this is what I have read, having no personal experience to draw upon here. Primero wanted to know what would be discussed at the court date next week and I professed my ignorance because I have never been to court before. Our scheduled time for court isn’t until the afternoon, so I said that means he could go to school for a half day and I could go to work for a half day. He looked at me and said, “I think we’ll need our rest that day.” So I agreed to let him stay home from school and since I already put in my request to take the day off, I would stay home from work. I suggested we go out for brunch to relax before heading to the courthouse. Even though I have a better idea of what will be happening, I am still dreading the court session next week. I guess it’s just a necessary evil.

 

Over the weekend I posted on Facebook that “the winds of change finally seem to be blowing in my direction” or some other blather similar to that. I simply meant that after so many years of waiting and multiple “failed” placements (and by failed I mean that they didn’t get to stay with me – I suppose reunification with family is not considered a fail), having the opportunity to adopt Primero is a breath of fresh air and hopefully indicative of more good things to come. Some curious friends inquired as to what this post meant – they wanted to know the good news. A friend text me and asked me if I was getting a baby (even though she knew about Primero and that the CHOR case worker had asked me to take legal custody!!). When I told one curious co-worker she responded with happiness and then promptly told me that I was creating good karma which should lead to a biological or adoptive baby and she threw in meeting the man of my dreams for good measure. I feel like people are saying, “yeah, yeah, yeah that’s great that you’re adopting Primero, but what about a baby?” And I sincerely want to punch the people who tell me I’m still young and there is still hope for me to have a biological baby. Stop! They don’t know how the dream of having a biological baby almost killed me – I don’t mean a physical death, but death of my spirit, death of my inner being, it very nearly sucked the life right out of me. There’s no way I can go back to that, there is absolutely no way I can hold even a kernel of hope that I might get pregnant and produce a child. I can’t take that back, I cannot and I will not sink back into the world of infertility treatments and the maddening cycle of hope and despair. No. Not gonna happen. Could I find the man of my dreams and have his babies? I’m not saying it’s totally impossible but I can’t touch it, I can’t think it, I cannot imagine it could be reality. Could I adopt a baby after Primero and meet the man of my dreams and live happily ever after that way? In this I can believe. But, I can’t help but feel disappointed that none but a few of my friends seem capable of letting me enjoy the moment I am in right now – becoming a mother by adopting Primero. It’s not that I don’t think of the future and of adopting an infant, but I want to enjoy adopting my first child before I rush onto the second. I want to wake up like I did Friday morning, after Primero declared he definitely wanted me to adopt him, thinking that this day was different, it was different because from that day forward I was going to be a mother. It’s hard to make myself understand the permanency of it after three years of fostering children – setting a schedule, falling in love and then having the rug yanked out from under us. Even if Primero does move out when he turns 18, I will still be his mother, forever. It’s amazing and scary all at once.    

First Mother's Day

Sunday was my very first Mother’s Day and it was quite an emotional day! (To be fair, I did have children living with me last year on Mother’s Day, but it actually made me feel worse to be called a mother because I really wasn’t – I was just a stand-in. It would be like the stunt double giving the acceptance speech for the best actress….) At breakfast Primero gave me a beautiful card that he created. He is very artistic and so he drew a beautiful rose and then wrote lovely things all around it and on the back. He said such beautiful things that it made me cry. He then produced a lovely gold cross bracelet. He used the money I gave him to get his mom a gift for Mother’s Day to get us both something. The bracelet is so delicate and beautiful, I love it. At church my heart was bursting with joy at the prospect of becoming Primero’s mother. I cried when all the mothers were called up front for a special gift and prayer. The Pastora preached on Sunday and she chose to talk about Hannah from 1 Samuel, Chapter 1. Hannah was barren and prayed for (and eventually got) a son – so of course this made me cry again. At the end of the service I went to the front of the church for special prayer and while I waited for the Pastora to finish with others, Primero came down from his Sunday school class and joined me. When Pastora came to pray for us she told me I was no longer alone and she prayed for our new family (I had told her previously that I was going to be adopting Primero). During the prayer she placed her hand on my abdomen and prayed for the biological child she was certain I would have and then prayed I would have the faith to believe it was going to come to pass. This made me cry again, mostly because I’m so far removed from entertaining the possibility of a biological child it was startling to hear her speak of it. Clearly, I have no faith that this will happen, I have totally given up on passing along any of my own genes. Even in the midst of joy, there remains a bitter reminder of what infertility has taken from me.

 

After church we went up to the farm, as is our custom. I was sitting with my mom on the porch while Primero was playing with their adorable little puppy in the front yard. My mom said, “So what are you going to do with him?” I looked at her and said, “What do you mean, ‘what am I going to do with him?’ He point-blank asked me to adopt him, so that’s what I’m going to do.” My mom expressed her concerns, mostly financially related, about this prospect. She thought it would be better for me to just take legal custody instead. I struggled to succinctly put into words the things I post on this blog. So, I grabbed the Mother’s Day card he created and showed it to her, hoping she could see how meaningful our relationship was to him and to me – I wanted her to see how special he was and how  beautiful it was to get the opportunity to adopt him into our family. Primero and the puppy came bounding up onto the porch where we were sitting and after she finished reading the card she looked at him and said, “It’s getting pretty sappy here.” And no more was said about it. I know my mother’s concerns stem from her worrying about her daughter and the life-altering decision she is about to make. I get that. But, I also think she is dealing with the shock of her first grandchild joining the family as a teenager and not a baby. It’s another deviation from how things are “supposed” to go – the first deviation being adoption in the first place, since a biological child seems highly unlikely. Still, I wish there was some eagerness surrounding her trepidation, but instead she just seemed resigned. I think it is hard for others to see the divine intervention in our own personal lives. What looks like and feels like a direct nudge from God to me, looks like a mistake and unnecessary burden to my mother. She wants a baby. But, babies are not so easy to come by. And for that reason, it is very easy for CHOR to place a baby, but much, much harder to find an adoptive home for a teenage boy. Even at the CHOR banquet last week the workers and head of the agency talked about how many more teens are in foster care than younger children. My decision is made and short of some apocalyptical crisis, I will not change my mind. My mother should know by now that she has raised a daughter to think for herself – um, Flaco anyone? And I take full responsibility for the choices I make. Deciding to adopt Primero was not the most difficult decision to make, rather it was incredibly easy. The hard decision was to keep him as a permanent foster care placement. It was that decision that ate at my insides and gave me no peace until I decided he could stay. Once that decision was made, keeping him forever was a no-brainer (I am not trying to make light of the decision to adopt because it is a life-altering and life-long decision, I just mean that it came rather naturally based on the other smaller yet no less-significant decisions I made along the way). Why on earth would I say no now?

 

Primero talked to his mom at some point late Saturday night (he stayed up to make my beautiful card) and he told her what decision he had made – to be adopted. In case there is still some doubt at just how amazing this child is, he showed a level of maturity that many adults would not have in this situation. He was honest with his mother, telling her he could not live with her knowing she was unwell, but he also had an immense amount of compassion for her, telling her he loved her no matter what and that he knew she didn’t choose to be sick. He told her she didn’t have to worry about him but to take heart knowing he was in a loving home and being well taken care of by someone he wanted to be with. His mother posted on Facebook how it was the worst day of her life and he responded again with such grace and mercy towards his mother. He’s one incredible kid and I complimented him on how mature he was in handling a very delicate situation. I know he worries about his mother trying to harm herself because he credits himself for saving her life twice. I worry with him but I told him he cannot be responsible for the actions of another person and that all he can do is offer his support when it’s safe to do so. I don’t doubt these are his mother’s darkest hours but I pray she will use this pain to propel herself out of the pit and into a better life.

 

Yesterday afternoon Primero was leaning against me, snuggled under my arm and playing a game on his phone. I kissed the top of his head, gave him a squeeze and told him I loved that he still likes to cuddle. As we went out to dinner with my family he said he was having some trouble with his asthma but had left his inhaler at home. As he became lethargic and uncharacteristically quiet, I rushed to feed my honeybees, say good-bye to my family, and get him home to his asthma pump. Luckily, after a few puffs his wheezing lessened and the color returned to his cheeks. He apologized for making me rush home and I told him not to be silly, I was able to spend time with my family and I was more worried about him having trouble breathing. I did gently chastise him for not having his inhaler with him, but only because he had me so worried. As he was getting ready for bed he gave me a big hug and told me he was glad he could help me celebrate my first official Mother’s Day. I squeezed him back and told him how much I loved him and that I was so happy to have him as my soon-to-be son. He said, “Thank you and thank you for saving my life.” An emotional, yet perfect ending to a wonderful, unforgettable first Mother’s Day.

Primero

The kid (I think I’m going to call him Primero on the blog because Primero means “first” in Spanish and he will be my first child – it’s pronounced PREE-merrow, roll the rr’s) was in better spirits last night. He met with the case worker doing his child profile when he got home from school yesterday and she was still there when I got home from work. After she left we went out to dinner and chatted. He said the child profile case worker told him she had heard some good news. He asked her what it was and she said, “you tell me.” He said, “that I get to stay permanently?” She responded by saying that I would take legal guardianship of him, to which he said, “No, I don’t want her to take legal guardianship.” The woman’s eyes got round as saucers until he said, “I want her to adopt me.” The case worker smiled and she said, “Even better!” I thought he was on the fence about it, thinking he wouldn’t want his mother’s parental rights terminated but, like me, I think he just wants to have some finality and closure to it all. His track coach called me yesterday to talk about county’s (apparently Primero is very close to making the county team, which is great) and to tell me how much he has improved. The coach kept referring to me as his mother, not foster mother, just mother. I didn’t correct him. In my head I was saying, “soon enough.”

 

We have a bunch of steps to take before anything is finalized, starting with a change in his permanency goal from reunification to adoption. I’m guessing this will happen at the next court date in a few weeks. The county will then move to terminate his mother’s rights (I don’t know how long this will take) and he will have to live with me for six months before I can petition to adopt him. If things go smoothly, it could all be official by the fall and before his next birthday. As hard as it might be on her, it would probably be better for everyone involved if his mother would just sign over her rights. This would prevent multiple court hearings and appeals for the county to take her rights away. I don’t know if she would be willing to do that or not. If she doesn’t it could push the finalization off until next year. Regardless, it seems like this is really happening. I can’t quite get my head wrapped around it. I know I have been waiting so long to become a mother and I have dreamt of this day more times than I can remember, but to think it is actually happening is mind-blowing. In some ways, things won’t change – I’m still me and Primero is still himself. Our interpersonal interaction will steady-on and grow stronger. But, it will feel so strange to not have CHOR case workers traipsing in and out of my house, to not have paperwork to fill out and hand-in, to not have to facilitate visits and therapy sessions (well, he might stay in therapy). Last night we talked about him taking my last name – my original last name, not the one I’m using now which means I need to get this darn divorce taken care of already! The only thing we haven’t talked about is what he should call me. Right now he calls me by my first name – well, he calls me by my nickname which I only let people close to me use like my friend from college, my sister and my mom. It doesn’t bother me that he uses my name and I don’t think I could or would demand he call me “mom.” Maybe he will at some point, but I think that transition could take awhile. I keep telling myself that very soon I will have a son; my very own child that I have wanted for oh so long. It’s like my heart does not believe my head; my heart says it can’t be happening, it doesn’t feel real, it doesn’t seem possible after all this time, all those tears, all that pain.

 

As we drove to the restaurant (we went to Friendly’s) last night Primero said he knew I wanted a baby and so he knows I’m not getting what I wanted. I told him not to say that. Sure, my dream was to adopt a baby, but that doesn’t make me want him any less. I told him maybe I didn’t know what I wanted, but I was happy and content with how things have turned out. He then told me he would like to be a big brother (he has two younger siblings but he hardly gets to see them) and he would be happy to have a little one in the home. I’ve seen how he interacts with the little girl at church (my church baby) and it melts my heart. He’s a good kid and he would be a wonderful big brother. I told him we have to get him settled first and then we could think about adding a little one to the family. Doesn’t that sound wonderful? Family, our family, my family, me and Primero. I don’t think I could be any happier. Finally, after five long years, I get to join the Mommy Club. Did I ever think that would happen with a teenager? No, I did not. But, there is something special about this kid and I couldn’t be happier to get the opportunity to call him my son. The way our journey has gone can only be described as directed by the mighty  Hand of God. There is no other way for me to explain how we got to this point. I had prayed to God that after the last placement had left my house my next placement would be my child and I asked for the process to be insanely simple. My next placement will now be my child and, although things are not done yet, it’s been pretty smooth sailing. It was meant to be, what else can I say? 

 

CHOR is happy they found a good home for Primero. He is happy he gets to stay in a home he loves and where he is loved. I am happy because I finally get to be a real mom, no strings attached. But, our little bubble of happiness will soon have to reveal itself to the world and I’m praying it won’t be popped. Reaction from the people I have spoken to so far has been hesitant. I kind of get the “Really?” reaction; really, a teenage boy and not a baby? Who can blame them? For five long years I have been aching for a baby to fill my arms and yet here I am about to adopt a teenager. I guess that doesn’t make much sense. But, I’m happy with the decision, I’m happy with what is happening and why shouldn’t giving a young man a home be a good thing? Don’t burst my bubble, let me revel in this! Because Lord knows I have spent way too much time wallowing in self-pity, thinking I would never get this chance! Really, a teenager? You don’t think I know he’s a teenager? If I’m ok with it (and I’m more than ok with it) why shouldn’t you be? Just because he’s not in diapers does not mean he shouldn’t be in a family that loves him and wants him. He is mine, I am his and that is all that matters. The only regret I have is that we didn’t get to meet sooner so I would have longer to love him.

The Next Chapter

I woke up at 4:19 this morning and could not fall back asleep. I think it’s all the emotions churning through my mind that kept me awake…..

 

After his track meet last night, I had the displeasure of telling the kid we couldn’t take his mother out for breakfast on Mother’s Day. The county didn’t think it would be a good idea. I refuse to lie to the kid but I do try to find the least offensive way to tell him bad news. This latest development really got him upset. He was hurt and angry because his mother lied to him, she told him she was clean and doing what she needed to do to get him back. I think he is scared for her too because he told me that twice he thwarted her attempts to commit suicide. We were in the car when I told him the latest development and rode silently for a few minutes while he processed this news. After a while he asked me for the good news I had to give him. In light of the bad news, I worried the good news would not be good enough. I told him his case worker had asked me I if I would take custody of him since it seemed like he wouldn’t be going home and I told her I would. I told him I didn’t know if this would mean adoption or legal guardianship but I did know he could not be adopted if he did not want that. We talked about the differences and he asked questions about it. I told him I wanted to help him make an informed decision and I would support either option he chose (adoption or legal custodianship). He was, deservedly so, moody and upset all night. We went to the farm after his track meet so I could feed and check on my honeybees. While the kid was out in the car I quickly announced to my parents he was not going home and I had been asked to keep him. It was a little shock to them that I agreed to take custody, I think because I had been so adamant about adopting a little child, but my dad did say they would support my decision. I knew they would. My parents are not the type of people to throw a kid to the wolves, no matter how old he is. My mom asked if this meant I would never get a baby and I told her it did not. She worried about me having space and I assured her I had a plan for that – moving my bedroom to the basement, thus creating a second bedroom upstairs. I’m sure they will grow to love him as much as I do because he is a good kid and has a lot of wonderful qualities, they just need time to adjust to this new idea - becoming grandparents to a teenager is not the same thing a welcoming a new baby to the family. It took time for me to come to this reality and I know it will take them some time too, but they will not deny this kid their love and support as adoptive/guardian grandparents.  

 

My heart breaks for him right now. Just like I wish I could take away the pain my mom is experiencing from her chemo, I wish I could take some of this heartache from him. Last night he vacillated between anger and contempt for his mother to sadness and disappointment at never living with her again. I told him this time right now was going to suck but that he will get through it and things will get better. I told him he has people he can talk to whenever he wants and that it is ok for him to feel the way he is feeling. He talked the whole way home last night, telling me things that happened between his mother and eldest brother and himself. He told me he is glad that he will get to stay with someone he trusts to be there for him and to provide a safe home for him. I told him I was so happy and excited but that I understood a lot of heartache was occurring for my happiness. He needed a lot of hugs last night, a lot of reassurance that things will be ok eventually. We talked about maintaining contact with his family in any capacity we could. This morning he hugged me before getting on his school bus, something he has never done before. Every day with him I am reminded how lucky I was to have such great parents when I was growing up. Sure my parents were not perfect and they let me down in little ways but I knew they would move heaven and earth to get to me, to help me if I truly needed it – in fact they still would to this day. They are my rocks and I could not imagine my life without them “having my back.” I cannot imagine the huge hole that is in this kid’s heart right now, knowing how catastrophically his mother let him down. I’m glad he has people around him to help get him through this right now. I’m glad he likes his case worker and feels comfortable talking to her. I’m glad he feels like he can talk to me to let it out. I’m glad he has a therapist to help him mentally and emotionally work through this painful time. I know he will pull through it because he wants to, he wants a better life for himself. He posted a quote on Facebook stating, “You can’t start the next chapter of your life if you keep re-reading the last one.” I’m honored and privileged to be a part of his next chapter. I know love cannot always “fix” things but it can go a long way. I love this kid in a profound way I cannot put into words. I can only assume it is the same way a mother feels after umpteen hours of labor, holding her new little one and peering into his perfect little face. It is a fierce, whole body feeling that seems totally irrational and yet utterly right at the same time; a possessive love that creates an unbreakable bond. It is both scary and wonderful, the force of this feeling, a sense of sweet tenderness for the child and a protective ferocity towards anyone who threatens to harm him.   

 

It is a strange place to be right now. I’m standing on the precipice of my wish, the driving force behind nearly every decision I have made in the past five years, coming to fruition. Yet, there is a lot more sadness surrounding my joy than I expected. And I am still only cautiously optimistic; I can’t fully believe this is real until the ink dries on the paperwork, until that time the situation is tenuous and anything could happen to upset it. I have not let the words, “I have a son” or “I am a mother” slip past my lips, in fact I haven’t even thought those ideas yet. The past pains I have endured have me feeling too leery to start shouting from the roof-tops at how excited I am for this blessing to actually be happening. And too, I think there is still a tiny twinge inside my heart that recognizes this child is not exactly what I had in mind when I set out to adopt. Don’t get me wrong, this is not to say I am not over-the-moon blissfully happy to be keeping this kid (dare I say, adopting him?) but all this time I have been hoping and praying for a baby, so it is a deviation from that dream. Oddly enough, keeping this child and making him my own does not make me feel like I am giving up on my dreams of a baby. As far as I know, CHOR is still keeping an eye out for me to adopt a little one. At least they were as of last week. If anything, finally becoming a mother makes me feel like it is more likely, more possible, to adopt a little one. It would be perfect to get a little girl to have both a son and a daughter, but I would be just as happy with a second boy. But, we need to get things settled with this kid first, before we start throwing others into the mix. I don’t know what the future holds, I just wake up each morning blessed to be living another day.

Willing to take Custody

“You are doing an amazing job with [the kid] and so since it seems like he is not gonna go with mom, would you be willing to take custody when it gets to that point? He is so adjusted to your home and you really have embraced him and treat him as your own. We here at CHOR are so appreciative of your wonderful work and dedication as a foster mother!!!”

 

This is part of an email from the CHOR case worker this morning. Hidden among the other mundane trivialities of foster parent/case worker interaction was this question. So, among the other answers to other questions I said this, “I know [the kid] told you that last Monday evening he point blank asked me if I would keep him should he not be able to go back home and I had told him he could stay with me for as long as he needs. So, yes, I would be more than happy to take custody of [the kid] if that is the direction his case is going. I love having him in my home, I think he is an amazing young man and I care very much for him. I don't know how or why, but we seem to fit well together. I only wish he wouldn't have to go to [my school district] for school and I'm still trying to talk him into [the Catholic school] because I think he would like it there.” It seems so simple, but this is a momentous thing that just occurred here. Huge. Like stop-the-train-hold-your-breath-don’t-change-the-channel HUGE.  

 

The only qualms I have depends on the definition of “to take custody.” I don’t know if that means legal guardianship or adoption. I would be ok with either but I would prefer adoption to legal guardianship for several reasons. One, adoption gives a sense of finality, of closing one chapter and opening another. Adoption is a done deal, a final solution. Legal custodianship or guardianship feels to me like prolonged foster care; parental rights are still intact and parents could attempt to reinstate custody through the courts at any time (not saying they would get it, but they could still try). The second reason I would rather adopt the kid than be his legal guardian is because adoption never ends but custodianship does. Once he turns 18 (which isn’t for a bunch of years yet) all legalities of our relationship would end. This doesn’t mean I would toss him out of my house on his 18^th birthday, but it does mean that legally I could. Legal guardianship also means continued interaction with Children and Youth Services, which isn’t a bad thing, but it is a constant reminder of the past. I don’t know if she posed the question the way she did because she feared I would say no to adoption, knowing I want a younger child or if this is the decision the county would make – legal guardianship as opposed to adoption. I will let my preference be made known. Of course, the kid would have to consent to being adopted because legally he is old enough to assert his opinion in the matter. Adoption would mean changing his last name to mine (er, my ex-husband’s name since that is the name I am using because we are still technically married) and it would mean parental rights would need to be terminated – no more visits unless I’m ok with them (which I think would be good for him, just as long as they are supervised). For selfish reasons, I would choose adoption because then I could call him mine with no legal/foster/guardian in front of son. I don’t think I would get the same sense of motherhood through legal guardianship as I would through adoption – and this I very selfishly and very ardently want.

 

I guess we are just in the beginning of this new phase, so things will have to be settled along the way. It is exciting and scary at the same time. And I know it is a bitter-sweet time for the kid as well. He loves his mom and wants her to get better but he is content with me, so on one hand he is sad and on the other happy. I get that. Now I really do need to get my parents on board with this because I’m about to make them grandparents in some fashion (legal guardian grandparents?) and they need to be notified of this life-changing event. I know they have been accepting of the kid (he needs a name on this blog now that he is staying!) just as they have of all of the eight foster children I have had, but it might be a shock to them to hear he will become a permanent fixture in our family. They know how much I wanted a little one to adopt and call my own. They understood my decision to take in the kid in the first place and were totally on board with that, but they might have different feelings about a teenager for a brand-spanking new grandson. While I hope I am just projecting unnecessary worries onto them and that they will easily accept him as a grandson, their reaction will not change my decision. I told the kid I would be honored to call him my son and I hope the rest of my family will feel the same way as I do. My mom mentioned to me a few weeks ago that one of the reasons she wants to aggressively fight this cancer is because she wants to be around to finally become a grandmother. She joked that it would happen this summer because she will be out-of-sorts due to the chemo. I know she was thinking about holding a baby in her arms, but it seems her prediction is coming true; meaningful steps are being taken to make her a grandmother this summer. I think the winds of change have begun to blow my way. Maybe I should pinch myself to make sure it’s actually happening……..      

Get Up-to-Speed

I didn’t want to over-burden them with my dilemma when I was pondering what to do about keeping the kid or letting him go – that decision was made the same week my mom was diagnosed with breast cancer, so it wasn’t a good time to whine about my issues. Since then I have not really found the right time or way to tell my parents the decision that was made. They don’t know how I agonized over deciding to keep him and the relief I felt once the decision was made and they do not know of the plans to make the room in the basement my bedroom, giving more space upstairs. At dinner last night the kid and I were picking my mom’s brain about circumstances that would allow a child living in one district to go to a school in another district (we were asking her because back in the day she served on the local school board). Other than wanting to join FFA, it doesn’t seem to likely the kid could go to the neighboring school district closest to where I live, he would have to go to the district I live in regardless of distance. He doesn’t want to go to this school and I can’t blame him because I don’t want him to go to that school either. He also doesn’t want to go to a private school because the only private schools in the area are religiously affiliated and require the students to take theology classes (one is Catholic and one is Christian). When we posed the question my mom asked, “Why? Do you think you will have a kid in school in the fall?” Laughing we pointed to the kid and said, “Um, yeah, this one.” She asked, “Do you think you will have him that long?” I mumbled I didn’t know, which is the truth, and the topic of conversation changed without me fessing up where and how things are going with the kid. I guess, at that point, I didn’t want to blurt out that his stay was indefinite unless his mother gets her act together in the next 6 months. I’m sensitive to the fact that, regardless of anyone’s opinion of her parenting skills, she is his mother and he loves her very much. Even when he gets frustrated with her, I never say a single disparaging word about her because it’s not my place. I have been very judgmental of biological mothers in the past and I’m trying to turn over a new leaf in that aspect of foster parenting. Part of it stems from my perceptions as an infertile, that mothers who don’t do things the way I would do them are undeserving of the children they have – it’s a tough mindset to overcome because often times the parenting styles I see as a foster mother are detrimental to the children I have grown to love. But, back to the story at hand – my parents are unaware of the position of this case not because I don’t think they would be supportive but because I didn’t want to add to their worries. I do need to get them up-to-speed before someone drops a bomb on them (like the kid) in a startling fashion. I will find a way to do this and soon.

Last night I had a dream. It was a simple dream, just of a Facebook post. I had a picture of me and the kid all gussied up for court. We beamed proudly at the camera and the caption read, “I am officially the proud mother of this beautiful young man! I’m so happy and blessed to call him my son!” In the dream I wept for joy. After so many years of nothing but tears of agony and pain, there was a lovely lightness to the happy tears and a serene sense of peace. As I stirred from the dream I wished I could capture that beautiful feeling of contentment and joy that I find so elusive in my life right now. I prayed to God the dream was a vision of the good things yet to come.

Things Happen in the Right Time

The CHOR case worker was over Thursday afternoon. She explained to the kid that BCCYS is very strict about the time limits they grant to parents and that his mom has been struggling to follow through on all the court ordered things she needs to do. She said things are still a long way off from any moves towards termination of her rights, but she only has about 6 more months to get her act together or that will become a very real reality. She said she felt he was old enough to understand what is going and she didn’t want him to feel like anyone was keeping things from him. He said nothing about our conversation earlier in the week and so I too kept silent. I asked him later why he didn’t say anything and he told me it was because she changed the subject so fast (which is true, she did – I think she felt a little uncomfortable being the bearer of bad news and wanted to get it out and move on as quickly as possible). I told him I didn’t say anything because I felt it was his place and not mine to bring that up. He promised to talk to his case worker about it next time he saw her and I told him it wasn’t anything to worry about and he didn’t have to share that with his case worker if he didn’t want to. It’s a sensitive topic and I don’t want to push him in any way. I knew this wasn’t necessarily news to him, since his mom made mention of these things at the visit, but hearing it from a case worker can be a little more unsettling. She said she didn’t want him to be surprised a court, which I think is a good thing, that’s not the place to get bad news. I told the case worker about the little blip we had last week regarding school, but as usual I had no issues to discuss with her regarding the kid. We talked about summer camp options, private schools vs the local public school for next year, trips we want to take this summer, and if we can bleach some of his hair to give him red tips. Life just keeps churning on at this point. I read something on Facebook that I posted to my page. It showed a picture of closed tulips and said, “God opens millions of flowers without forcing the buds. It reminds us not to force anything for things happen in the right time.” It pretty much sums up where I am at in life right now……