We Have to be Patient

Last Thursday night I went to dinner with Montana. I hadn’t seen him in two weeks because I had been so sick the week before. After dinner we just sat and talked at my place and I brought up the latest placement drama mostly because I was still feeling the sting of rejection. Montana is making plans to go to the Philippines on a missions trip in February, although he still doesn’t know the dates. We were joking about how it will be just like this past week of not seeing one another and then he said, “you never know you could have a placement by then.” I shrugged non-committedly and he said, “we just have to be patient.” We? We have to be patient? I thought it was me, when did it become we? I don’t quite know how to take this. I mean, clearly he is not directly involved and only barely secondarily involved because he is dating me. He doesn’t really have a horse in this game, yet he included himself in the waiting and being patient. Maybe it was a futuristic thought? I said to him that I know this is strange, this whole messy situation I call life. I know it isn’t ideal, I know it isn’t traditional or “normal” to choose to become a single parent on purpose (or to be dating someone who is technically still married - just to throw that into the mix). Montana has told me in the past that he supports me, but I guess I just don’t believe him. It’s just too good to be true, isn’t it? I told him I am sure once I have a placement and things change and I’m not so readily accessible that he will change his mind and think it’s not worth it, I’m not worth it. He said, “You are mine and I’m not going anywhere.” Still, I worry that going into mommy mode will wreck things, yet it is a chance I am willing to take.

 

Since October when the kids left, I have been contacted about 10 potential placements. That’s all, just 10. Last year I was getting call after call, now I’m lucky to get one call or email per week. I’m impatient and I don’t want to be. I’m anxious. I just want “this” to be over – the waiting and willing the phone to ring. I told my family worker I forget what life is like not waiting to become a mother. And I truly do. I don’t remember what it feels like to not think every single day, “this could be the day!” Before it was the day I would find out I’m pregnant. Now, it’s the day I get the call that I’m getting a placement. I wake up every morning and tell myself “today could be the day!” I fall asleep every night telling myself, “tomorrow could be the day.” Other blogs I have been following have shut down because they got their babies and now life is too hectic to keep up with it. Others still do a monthly up-date on their child’s growth and progress. Some are still waiting for the final adoption day and for the ink to dry so everything is official. My blog just celebrated its third birthday and still I am waiting. It is the song that doesn’t end, it just goes on and on my friend. I spin around and around and around, never going anywhere and unable to stop the incessant vortex. Will it ever end? I’m told I need to be patient, that “it” will happen. How much more patient must I be? I have now given myself an expiration date (the end of 2014) because I cannot continue along indefinitely. If I don’t have a placement by the end of this year, I am stopping. Not to say I won’t start back up again after a period of rest, but I can’t stand to think about looking at yet another year (2015) stretched out in front of me with no promise of ever getting to the end. And I can’t keep putting myself through the heartache. It takes a lot of self-control to keep my emotions in check when I listen to the calls or read the emails about a potential placement. I take it all with a large grain of salt, never letting it penetrate into the inner chambers of my heart. And, the example of the Christmas miracle baby is a good reason why. I cannot put into words just how elated I was, how light my heart felt, how the whole world changed colors more brightly than when Dorothy first arrived in Technicolor Oz. I couldn’t stop smiling, I couldn’t stop thanking God, I kept pinching myself to be sure I was awake, to be sure the joy was real. I was so excited I could not sleep. I was so excited to get everything ready, I sang myself silly “I’m-so-happy” songs while I washed and folded the baby clothing and got everything perfectly right. I was as high as the man who sky dived from the edge of space, the world nothing but blue-green swirls at my feet. I was alone in my own bubble drinking in the mixture of sheer pleasure and some healthy fear. Just like the man in the balloon, I had practiced for many years and I had waited for the perfect timing, the best weather, the perfect day. But, rather than leaping into eminence, my balloon just popped and I plummeted to earth with no parachute, slamming into a cold, hard reality that shattered everything inside of me. Doing that once and surviving is a miracle; more than once and it’s slipping into masochist territory, wearing a hair coat and enduring a daily flogging. I think I’m walking a fine line between the two right now.

 

So, I’m getting the young man with me again this weekend. It was supposed to be for just Saturday so his foster mother could attend the all-day training event at CHOR, but he text me last night to tell me it will be for all weekend and I should come get him tonight after work. I wonder how he talked the county into that, since the foster mom told me they didn’t want him to be with me the whole weekend and they didn’t want to make this a regular occurrence. I don’t mind except I got a phone call from a Peace Corps friend on Wednesday night. She lives in Oregon but is going to be in Philly this weekend for a seminar. We tentatively planned to see one another on Sunday, but now I will have the kiddo and I doubt I will be taking him with me for the visit, since I won’t be back by 5 which is when his foster mother usually picks him up. Sigh. I guess I will figure something out. It’s just my messy life!      

 

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Often times I type up a post and then don’t get it posted onto my blog because I like to let it sit for a moment before I edit it and slap it on up here. So, I wrote a little something Friday and never posted it and now I have more to say, some of which is related to what I should have posted on Friday. Oh well…….

 

So, I mentioned a Peace Corps friend from the West Coast was in Philly for a seminar. We made plans to meet up on Sunday after church. I gave the kid the choice of going home early or coming with me (which I could not guarantee would be much fun, since I would be spending the time catching up with my friend). He chose to go along and we made sure it was ok for me to bring him home later. Great! We headed out down the Turnpike towards Philly. We were cruising along when all of a sudden my car made a weird noise like it randomly down shifted on its own, but it was still driving along. Luckily we were right by a service station, so we pulled over. After consulting my dad, adding some oil, and canceling on my friend, I started the car up no problem. I shifted into drive and the car did not move. I gave it some gas and the car did not move. I tried reverse, low drive, drive 1 and nada. The engine would rev but the car sat stubbornly still. I called my dad again and he suggested I check the transmission fluid. My hands already freezing and blackened from adding the oil, I dove back under the hood and checked my transmission fluid – it was fine. My dad called a tow truck and we sat and waited, intermittently turning the car off and on to keep warm. The car broke down just before 3 and we were back to the farm (after the kids first ride in a tow truck – how fun!) just before 7pm. My dad drove the kid home and then took me home. He took me to work today and the administrator of my office took me home. The administrator saved me from having figure out how to use the public bus because my dad could not take me to and from work every day this week. I’m so thankful to have a ride because it is very cold outside to have to stand and wait for a bus – not to mention the snow along the curbs and sidewalks that has frozen into crusty and dangerous ice. We are hoping the car’s issue is some solenoid thing that would not require a whole new (costly) transmission. The tow bill will be enough to break the bank. And no, I don’t have triple A (AAA). I’m trying to not freak out about this. I’m trying to remain positive, but inside I am panicking hard core. I don’t have the extra cash for this! Please, oh please, let it just be the solenoid thing!!!!

 

So, being trapped inside the car for hours with a teenage boy, not high on my list of things to do, but it wasn’t so bad. He’s really a good kid – weird in an emo kinda way, but good, well-behaved and even helpful. My heart aches for him because, despite his devil-may-care attitude, he’s quite sensitive. He mentioned last night about some aunt that wouldn’t take him in to save him from foster care (my words not his) because of the man she is dating (I immediately hated this aunt for choosing some man over her nephew), but that it was ok because being in foster care meant he got to spend time with me. How does that not melt your heart into a little puddle? And, it’s not like we do a lot of things. We watch movies, some TV, clean, go grocery shopping – nothing mind-blowingly fun! But, he desperately wants to move in with me and leave his current foster home (I feel I should interject here that there is absolutely nothing wrong with his foster home, they are good people, it’s just a matter of personality clashing with his foster dad – I am not in the business of badmouthing other foster families because in fact, I haven’t met a foster family I haven’t liked. Besides, I had a foster kid who was desperate to move in with another family to get away from me, so I know how that feels). He’s talked his case worker into letting him spend every weekend with me (he’s coming back again this coming weekend – which sans car should be loads of fun!). Yesterday I explained to him how I doubted the county would let him move with me, I explained the whole issue to him (with as little details as possible) and how I’m on the BCCYS black list. I told him that I was hoping to adopt and that CHOR would not place a child with me if someone was already living in my house. Have you ever tried to reason with a teenager? Especially if said teenager is dead set on a thing? He said his case worker keeps telling him she will talk to me about it, but we haven’t spoken since the very first week she called me to take him. I feel like I’m getting wedged in between a rock and a hard place here. If I was just doing foster care, I would take this kid in a heartbeat. He’s easy peasy lemon squeezie. But……. But, he’s supposedly going home soon (I’ve heard that one before) so he’s not even a legal risk case, just straight up foster care. Besides that, he’s not the age I would be hoping to adopt (I would have been about 18 when he was born……). Yet, how can I look at this kid, who just wants to hang out and suck up all the one-on-one attention he can get, how can I look him in the eye and tell him no? Is it so bad that I’m hoping the county will do it for me? I did promise him, if he’s still in foster care come summer, we could go on a bus trip to the shore – assuming we can get permission for him to leave the state for a day trip. He said, even if he wasn’t in foster care, he would text me and see if we could still go (I’m not sure about the legalities of this – I would assume, as long as his mother gives the ok, we could still go….. I just wonder how his mother would feel about this?). I don’t make promises lightly, so I will do all within my power to make this a reality for him. I’m sure we would have a ball and he was already planning the selfies we would be taking with the beach as our backdrop (he was taking selfies in the car to pass the time). Maybe I will get a call for a placement and it will all be a moot point, although, with the car complication this would not be the best time to get a placement and be dependent on others to get around…. Wouldn’t that be ironic? I get a call for a placement but can’t get the placement because I don’t have a car…… Life is just complicated that way isn’t it?    

It Must

I got a call this morning. Not good news, but not unexpected. The three little girls are going somewhere else. I’m rejected yet again. I just hate this waiting, these up and down emotions! What is the point to this all? There is none. I keep thinking there must be a purpose to it all, something I need to learn, something I need to get right in order to pass to the next level. But, I look at this long road behind me and all I see is the pain and heartache of it all. Maybe I can’t see the forest for the trees. Maybe there is some lesson in holding on, in being strong, in not giving up. Maybe life just likes to piss all over your dreams without whim or care. I ask why but no answer is forthcoming. And I feel trapped in this purgatory at the gates of hell, just circling and circling true happiness but never being able to grasp it, never being let in. Five years is a long time to wait for something that feels like it’s a part of your heart. And if waiting were all I was doing perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad. It’s the constant feeling of loss that makes this wait unbearable. Loss associated with infertility, which is a multifaceted beast always lurking in your peripheral vision waiting to pounce on you at any sign of weakness. Loss of a marriage and the person he was and I was and what we were supposed to be. Loss of children, not to death, but to oblivion. Loss of children who were never mine, just like these three girls, just like the Christmas miracle baby. Loss of hope – the greatest loss of all. I’m being eaten alive, one tiny chunk at a time and I am powerless to stop this thing from consuming me.

 

But, my baby must be close! Just because I want it to be so, just because I feel like I’ve been through enough already and it’s my time, dammit! It’s my turn! I will stomp my feet and have a hissy fit right here and now. Enough is enough. No more. I demand it be so, I demand it be over and I get to grab hold of what I’ve been waiting for all these years. I won’t take no for an answer, I won’t listen to doubt and disbelief. All that is over now. Do you hear me? OVER! I’m done with it, done with the pain, done with the tears, done with the loss. DONE! My baby is nearly here because he/she must be. What more could I possibly have to endure? I’ve already lost it all, there is nothing more I can lose, nothing more that can be sacrificed to this dream. My baby is just beating a path to me now, within view, within grasp. Today could be the day. Or tomorrow, or the next day, or next week. Because he/she must be nearly here. This must soon be over. Because it must be. Because it must. It must…….

Premonitions and Dreams

There’s something that’s been bothering me but I don’t know what to call it. You know, I’m just living life but I don’t live in a bubble, so I hear things on the radio or on TV and of course I’m seeing and hearing this all with a perspective that is different. Maybe not so different, since it affects 1 in 10 adults according to some studies. I see the world through the haze of infertility. It’s not the same as people who have never experienced infertility because, to be perfectly blunt, they just don’t get it. But, the thing that has been bothering me is the loss of innocence I have as a first-time mom. I hear these new moms on the radio or TV talking about how much their life has changed since their little bundle of joy arrived and I realize that I’ve lost that. I guess I was a first-time mom with my first placement, unsure of what I was doing, hoping I was doing “it” right. But, it’s not quite the same being a new mom to a walking, talking toddler as it is to a newly minted newborn. I don’t get that feeling of awestruck wonder at the miracle I created. My body is not flooded with the crazy hormones drugging me with love for the child I carried inside of me for 9 months. I don’t worry about latching on for breast feeding or how to change a newbies diaper. I don’t contemplate bringing baby home and adjusting to this new life. I’m just tossed into the fray, taking in a child or children then jumping right back into my daily grind. I don’t have the luxury of a maternity leave to coddle my baby and insulate us from the world. Even when I had a newborn baby – I got her on Friday and by the following Tuesday I was back to work full-time. What new mom does that? So, I lament another loss. Maybe I’m looking for things to mourn at this point? But, I also find myself somewhat impatient with those wide-eyed first-time moms. If I can do it all by myself and still manage to work full-time and care for the entire household, why do they make so much of this process? I don’t sequester myself at home, getting lost in mommy world and forgetting I’m a grown up with grown up things to do. Perhaps it’s jealousy, but I find myself thinking that first-time mom’s make mountains out of mole hills with their first kid. Put on your big girl panties and get on with it already! I guess, that’s just because it’s what I had to do and so I find myself impatient with those who take their sweet old time navigating the maze of motherhood because they can – and I cannot.

 

On the flip side, I have become quite knowledgeable. I feel like I can deal with a child of any age, from brand-spanking new to teenager. I have experience with all kinds of kids, the quiet and the not so quiet, the behavioral messes and the sweetie pies. I’ve dealt with diaper rash, ear aches, vomiting, chicken pox, and runny noses galore. I’ve gone on many doctor and dentist visits. I’ve learned the value of naps and a predictable schedule. I’ve enrolled a kid in school, helped with homework and changed baby-sitters more times than I would like to remember.  When  CHOR calls me with a placement, I’m like “I got this.” Yet, I don’t quite get the recognition of a seasoned mother because, frankly, I’m not a mother. At church I’m the baby whisperer, holding the inconsolable child until she falls asleep. The kids in my Sunday school class asked the other teacher, who is the mother of a beautiful 18 month old girl, if she was tired of her child and could she give her baby to me – we have talked about me not being a mother but wanting to be a mother. Children don’t understand infertility any more than the rest of us do. I feel like I’m a wanna be. I’m desperately trying to get into the “cool” club but I’m always being denied because I don’t have that one thing, regardless of all the experience I’ve had, no matter how many kids have lived in my house – I’m excluded. Maybe someday I can walk the fringes of the mommy club, but I won’t have the battle scars, the stories of torn things and stretch marks, to really envelope me into the folds. I won’t have the physical scars on my body but I certainly have emotional scars. My road to motherhood has been littered with potholes and roadblocks, daunting to even the most stalwart traveler. I hope to keep to the middle of the road until I reach my final destination and I’m hoping that will be soon.

 

I had another dream, this time I was in church with my new brood. I had a tiny newborn baby strapped to my chest and was guiding two little ones into the church with the boy who was staying with me over the weekend trailing behind (dunno why he was in my dream, I guess I’ve just been thinking about him). The little ones were twins, about 18 months old, boy and girl. The girl looked just like my church baby (the one I hold and put to sleep). That was all there was to the dream, just us arriving at church. It’s the vividness of the dream that entraps me. Everything feels so real because it looks just like real-life. Again, I could feel the weight of the baby even after the dream and I could hear the little one’s babbling to one another, as I helped them out of their jackets and settled them into their seats. When my alarm went off this morning, I just wanted to linger in my dream, to stay in the world that felt so real and yet so unattainable.

 

I still feel like my baby is almost here, like it will be this week or maybe next week, but it will be soon. Maybe I am wrong, but I hope I am not. I did get a call from CHOR letting me know that the little boy they called me about the beginning of the month is staying in his current foster home (they changed their minds and want to adopt him) and that they have not heard anything on the three girls they called me about last week but they will keep me posted. We shall see what happens........ Crossing my fingers and hoping my premonition is true, that I will be getting a placement (my baby!!) soon!!!!

Something Just Around the Bend

I had the same young man with me this weekend that was with me last weekend. And he ended up staying Monday as well because he had off from school and I had off from work. He’s coming again Friday-Saturday but his foster mother told him/me yesterday the county doesn’t want to make this a regular thing, so he will need to go home Saturday evening. He wants to stay until Sunday. Actually, he wants to move in with me and leave his current foster home. He likes being the only kid with a single foster mom. He is scheming on how to make this happen. When he asked me yesterday I told him in reality I am waiting to get a placement I can adopt and that if he were staying with me I would not be eligible for such a placement. He was undeterred. He plans to talk to his case manager when she comes out to see him this week. I should have been more firm, but I feel bad. He’s a good kid and he gives me no problems at all and if I were just doing foster care it would be totally fine to have him move with me. But, I’m not doing just foster care. I don’t mind having him on the weekends (and extended weekends) but I don’t want to jeopardize my ability to adopt if/when that time finally comes. I’m not too worried about it for a few reasons. A) I don’t think they move kids just because a respite home is more fun than their foster homes. B) This is a Berks County case. Enough said. Although, it might be nice for them to see I’m not whatever it is they think I am, I highly doubt they would approve this kid’s move to my house. C) It would mean a school change and a million other changes that will be hard on the kiddo (even if he denies it). And D) he is supposedly going home soon, so why disrupt everything at the end of his stay in foster care? It has been nice having a kid around the house and we have had a few nice weekends together, but I am still waiting for my perfect match.

 

Last week I was horrendously ill (probably the flu) and spent most of the week in bed. As a results, my house was filthy – ok, it was just messy and it bugged me. Yesterday I spent most of the day cleaning, taking down the outside Christmas lights – and in this instance, the kiddo came in handy. He just hopped up on my porch railing (without shoes I might add) and popped all those clips off the rain spouting in a matter of minutes. I told him I would call him next year when I wanted to put the lights up since it took me probably five times as long to put them up as it took for him to take them down. Of course he acted like this was no big deal. I really got into the cleaning mostly because I felt like it was needed and also because I felt like a new placement is impending and must be just on the horizon, so the house should be clean for the troops to go marching through (as is the case with a new placement). I don’t know why I feel this way, maybe it is just wishful thinking, but I just wanted to make sure the house was in tip-top condition should the call come one day this week. I did get a call and message on my work phone while I was out sick last week. It was for three little girls all born one year after the other. I left a message stating I would accept the placement, but I have not heard anything since then. Of course, when I accepted I then thought about the space I have for the girls and realized it would mean moving my bedroom to what is now the kids room because there is no way three beds would fit in that tiny room. This would be quite an undertaking, but worth it in the end. But, I’ve already moved on from that one because I am sure the county will look for a larger home for the three little ones. Still, I am so sure something is just around the bend. It must be! It’s been long enough and I’ve be patient enough, so a placement must be imminent. I’m even all caught up on my laundry! So, it’s decided, a placement is practically on my doorstep!

Approved for Another Year

*** This was typed up last Monday (1/13) but I got sick before I had time to edit and post it (and I do mean SICK!) ***

 

 

Friday (1/10) I had my annual review for foster care. It went pretty much as I expected it to go. I aired some grievances and whined about how it’s taking so long that I don’t even remember what life is like not waiting to become a mother. And my case worker put some of the blame back on me for taking in non-legal risk/adoption cases. (You’re welcome, by the way…..) She tried talking me into a placement for a 7 year old girl. My response to her was, “I feel like I am already missing out on so much because I can’t have a biological child. Could I love a 7 year old? Yes, I’m sure I could but I would always pine for the opportunity to have a little one, to have those experiences.” I still don’t think she gets it. Infertility is like having a massive, ugly wound – people don’t want to look right at it because it scares them, it is too raw and nasty to look at without feeling queasy. That’s infertility. Looking right at it is too painful, so people deflect. And those with infertility try to hide their wound. Regardless, I passed the review. I still need to get the animals to the vet but the earliest they had open was next week. I did not bring up the possibility of me changing agencies. I guess I just don’t feel like making the effort because I don’t believe things would be terribly different with a different agency. Maybe that’s just a lie I tell myself. But, it’s not like changing car insurance, where they just send new cards and everything goes on as if nothing changed. This would be a massive undertaking. I guess I would rather stick it out with people I know than try to make connections with new people. Maybe it’s stupid and maybe I’m an idiot for thinking this way. But, there are a lot of hurdles to me making the change and I just don’t have the energy to do it at this time. And, I suppose, despite everything that happened last year with the messed up placement that lingered on and on and on, I still feel some loyalty to CHOR for keeping me on after the incident with the first baby. That’s not a thing to take lightly. My family worker mentioned something about a placement I was notified about the beginning of the year. She said someone calls the county daily to get updates. I told her I had already written that placement off because it is from Berks County. I told her I was pretty sure I was still persona non grata with the county and she didn’t deny this assumption. She then launched into a long explanation warning me that most babies come from Delaware County, but that this county takes years (yes, literally years) to finally terminate parental rights and allow a baby to be adopted. I wondered if she was trying to scare me into accepting an older child? I didn’t say anything, I just listened and then reiterated how I wanted a little one because I wanted to get some of the “normal” mommy experiences with an infant/toddler. I’m afraid this meeting did not alleviate my discouragement and disbelief in the probability that I will actually be getting a placement to adopt……..  

 

So, after the review with my family worker, I had some down time and then had to pick up a young man at his foster home and drive him into town to attend a meeting with his mother. After that, I had to pick him up later at night to come stay with me this weekend. I’ve had teenagers in respite before but they were girls. I had a boy in respite but he was still rather young. This young man is different – he’s into something called Jeff the Killer and he loves Ariana Grande and anime. He’s had a tough life, from what he told me and he struggles with a whole host of issues a kid his age shouldn’t have to struggle with. We had a nice time and he was already asking his case worker Sunday morning if he could come back next weekend (I think he will be because his foster mom asked me if I would take him again). I think he liked having the one-on-one attention, which I think is the same for most of the other respite kids I’ve had. In all those cases they were coming from a family with multiple children/foster kids to a home with just me and my furry kids. I always worry the kids will be bored in my home, but I guess it’s like a mini-vacation when they don’t have to fight with the other kids for everything.

 

Sunday morning I woke up with the remnants of a dream still so fresh in my mind I thought it was real. I was dreaming that I was on vacation with my mom and sister but I forgot to buy a fancy dress for our dinner out. I knew I had three children, a 2 year old girl and newborn twins, boy and girl. For whatever reason that only makes sense in the dream, I had left the 2 year old and boy baby with my dad and had the girl baby with me. The most vivid part of the dream, the part where I was waking up, was that I wanted to try on dresses but I was wearing the baby in my new Moby wrap (I had ordered one on EBay when I thought I was getting the baby boy and it came in last week) and it was such a chore taking it off to try on the dress. So, I reluctant to try on the dress, mostly for the inconvenience but also I simply did not want to put the baby down in order to change my clothes. I just wanted to hold her and snuggle her tiny little body close to mine. It was the feel of the baby in my arms, snuggled to my chest, that I remembered so clearly I was almost certain I would awake with a baby in my arms. I swear I could feel the weight of her as my eyes opened in my bed (maybe it was the cat on my arm?), I could hear her little mewling noises and smell her baby smell. It was only a dream, of course. But, when we went to church later that morning, there was a tiny baby just 10 weeks old and it brought the dream back to my mind. Her grandmother had brought her along and the baby was passed around to many welcoming arms. I was busy holding someone else’s 18 month old child and managed to get her to fall asleep before the worship time ended. After church, this same little girl came up to me and asked me to pick her up. She’s a curious little thing and likes to be held to see what is going on. It soothes my heart to be able to hold her in church, just to feel the weight of a baby in my arms again. Maybe she senses that. When I took the children upstairs for Sunday school, I helped another baby up the stairs, carrying her at the end. I had set her down outside the baby room, so I could take my rambunctious older kids into their room. The baby teacher was not upstairs as quickly as I had hoped, so I had to go back and pick the little girl up. When I carried her into the baby room, she started screaming and grabbing me around the neck. As the teacher pried this child from my arms, the little girl (she is also around 18 months old) had a vice grip on my sleeve, nearly disrobing me in her attempt to not stay in the baby room (I’m not sure why she hates it so much, but she does). I had flash backs to the three year old I had last year and the times she would grab my arm or hand, crying “I want you!” when I was dropping her off for a visit or court. It’s a hard thing to have a child cling to you like that and then force them to let go. This is a very random paragraph, morphing from a dream to what occurred in church. It’s just the musings of my mind.

 

In all honesty, I’m surprised I don’t have more dreams like the one I described with how often I think of babies. Maybe this dream will come true? I had this feeling that, since I already agreed to take the teenage boy in again this weekend, that I would get a call for a placement this week to disrupt the plans that have already been made. It just seems that’s how it goes. Although, I would hate to disappoint this young man, I know he has his heart set on coming back. I feel like these kids have so much disappointment and let-downs in their life that I do everything I can to not add to that burden – so, there’s no way I would tell this kid he can’t come back if that is what he wants to do. I don’t think we did anything terribly exciting, we basically just chilled around the house, did some grocery shopping in the pouring rain, watched some movies and shows on TV and took down the inside Christmas decorations. Nothing exciting there! This weekend I want to attend an informational session at a community college the next county over to learn about their honey beekeeping classes. I’m hoping to get some honey bees to keep on my parents farm. I think it would be the coolest thing ever to have our own honey! I know, I’m strange, but I can only be who I am! On Thursday Montana and I went to the State Farm Show in Harrisburg and while we were looking at all the cute bunnies, I told him I planned to get a rabbit or two for my child(ren) as soon as they were old enough to help take care of it and from there graduate to sheep, goats and eventually pigs and cattle, maybe horses. I told him I would love to buy the farm at the end of the lane right next to my family’s farm and fill it up with all kinds of critters – he told me to work towards my dream. Let’s hope that I can……    

It won't be needed

I took the baby clothing back last night. The sales clerk wanted to know why it was being returned. My friend was along with me and she blurted out, “we didn’t get the baby.” I was going for a “it won’t be needed” approach but she beat me to the punch. I tried to disassociate myself and stay emotionless as she calmly checked each item off the receipt and carefully folded the tiny clothing. I’m such a fool for rushing out and buying the clothing in the first place. At least I was able to return it and get a full refund, minus the few outfits I washed in anticipation. I learned a valuable lesson here. I just wish some lessons weren’t so darn painful…….

 

There’s not a whole lot more I have to say. I felt especially strong pangs of bitter disappointment last night when I was trying to go to sleep. I reminded myself of some of the things people said to me – maybe this wasn’t meant to be because you would have to be taking off all the time to take the baby to the doctor. Or, maybe you will get him in 30 days free and clear and that’s how it’s supposed to happen. Or any other number of platitudes I heard. Sometimes if softens the blows and sometimes it doesn’t. Mostly, I’m over it and I’ve moved on, back into the world of waiting. I guess taking the baby clothing back struck a nerve that’s still a little raw and I thought about the whole scenario again. It’s better not to think about it, just to let it go and move on.

 

The night before last night I dreamt that I was in labor. It was one of the those dreams where you fall into a deeper sleep and as you come out of it the dream picks up right where it left off, so I dreamt it all night long. In the dream all I wanted to do was walk. Just walk around up and down the hospital hallways. The doctor wanted me to lie still so he could check the baby to make sure he/she was ok, but I refused. Apparently, I found it more bearable to endure the contractions if I was walking. I never gave birth, I was just in labor all night long. It was not a restful night’s sleep. I believe that sometimes our dreams can tell us things, but this one I think was just a reminder of the struggle from these past 5 years. I’m in labor but I have not yet given birth and so I walk on.   

 

Friday my family case manager is coming over for my annual review. And I need to get the animals to the vet. Blah. The paperwork drives me batty sometimes! But, that’s life. I’m not really looking forward to her visit. I’m sure she’ll tell me I need to stay positive and that some placement will come my way, blah, blah, blah. The same thing she’s said the past two years. What makes this year any different? A friend told me I have done a lot of things to bring me luck this year. First, on New Year’s day I took a polar bear plunge (it was for a charity – the water was roughly 36 degrees and the air temperature was hovering around 28 degrees). I had the traditional pork and sauerkraut dinner on New Year’s day, which is supposed to bring luck. And I (unintentionally) left my Christmas tree up until the Epiphany (Day of the Three Kings) which was Monday. So, there you go. Still, I think I will reserve judgment on this year for a little while yet. I guess you can call me pessimistically optimistic.

New Year, New Potential Placement

It’s only the second day of the new year and already I’ve gotten a call regarding a legal risk placement. Unfortunately, I’ve already written it off because it is a placement from Berks county. Also, unfortunately, it is hard to get too excited about a three year old child when the last call had been for a tiny infant. That’s cruel I know and, should that be the age of the child I end up adopting, I’m sure I would change my tune. But, this call and this placement get filed away into the “it-ain’t-gonna-happen” category. The adoption coordinator who called me first apologized about the baby and reiterated the 30 day hearing. She then told me the two little girls I had expressed interest in were going somewhere else (duh, they were from Berks county). And then she told me about this new placement. I said yes, but after I asked what county he was from I knew it was a done deal. Still, it’s nice to get a call so early in the year.

 

In other news, Montana and I spent New Year’s eve together. We ordered take-out Chinese food and got two movies from RedBox. At my house, we cuddled on the couch and watched the movies until the ball drop. Then we watched fireworks from the back (kids) bedroom. I’m glad I didn’t let my paranoia make me stop seeing him. I like him more and more each time we are together. No, there is still no tingly spark when we kiss, but there is definitely affection, so there might be hope. After the ball drop and the fireworks we talked for a bit and then had a marathon make-out session during which Montana professed his love for me. And I did not reciprocate. Yikes bikes! I heard him say it and I just pretended I didn’t hear it, which of course I did. But, there’s no way I could get those words past my lips. For many reasons. One, it is way too soon to think it let alone say it. Two, I am still mistrusting of nearly any man who is interested in me because I still have some serious scabs over some very deep wounds. Three, I don’t think anyone can say they love me until they see me angry – it’s my litmus test. Four, we only just determined last weekend that we are officially dating and not just “special friends.” Five, I don’t know him all that well and I would say the same about him not knowing me all that well – which I guess is kind of the same thing as saying it’s too soon…… But, it happened. He said it and I did not. We have plans to go to the Farm Show in Harrisburg pending the coming snow storm and extent of the aftermath. Some of the awkwardness seems to be fading away, which is good. I just want to keep taking baby steps and hope he can be patient while I struggle to excise my inner demons…… Oddly enough, when I stopped in to see my grandparents yesterday on my way to my parents for the traditional pork an sauerkraut meal, I mentioned that I was seeing someone when my grandmother (Nana) asked me if I was alone for New Years. She nearly cried she was so happy for me. She asked about him and I told them his name, which is a surname mostly associated with the Amish and Mennonite community in our area. Montana’s family might be Mennonite (I never point-blank asked him and he never mentioned it – I guess it doesn’t really matter to me, although I have no plans to begin adopting the Mennonite fashion – to be fair, the Church of the Brethren, which is the denomination of the church I attend, isn’t terribly different theologically from the Amish/Mennonite religion, it’s just less strict in terms of lifestyle and modern convenience/technology), but he is certainly not Amish – he drives a red Dodge Charger not a black horse-drawn buggy…. I told my grandparents he’s not Amish, but they continued to believe it, telling me if that was the lifestyle that made me happy that was ok with them! And Nana began working on a dinner menu for when she gets to meet him. Since she believes he’s Amish, she assumed he would like her homemade Shoofly pie and Pa Dutch style potpie. It was sweet to see her get so excited and I thought it was hysterical that my grandparents think I’m dating an Amish guy……