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.