A Year of Blessings

Today is one of those days that I remember exactly where I was and what I was doing on this same date a year ago. That’s because last year on June 30^th, I picked baby Love Bug up from the hospital. I remember waking up and taking Primero to his summer camp. I was so nervous because I had not heard anything from CHOR all weekend long. This situation was so similar to what I experienced with the Christmas Miracle baby that it had my stomach in knots. I spent the weekend doubting my decision to not attend the girls weekend with my sister, mom and aunt. I reluctantly dug out the bassinet, the car seat and the newborn baby clothes as I had done before. I tried to relax and not think about it too much like I had in the previous failed placement. I had been unable to sleep that weekend, my mind kept floating off to cloud nine in blissful ignorance of what was to come. This time, I was a little more grounded and a lot more nervous. I began pacing after I folded the second load of baby clothes and receiving blankets. I had decided I would wait until noon and then call CHOR for an up-date. Luckily, I didn’t have to wait that long. My first call came around 10:30. It was from a new social worker calling to introduce herself to me and explain she would be the baby’s case worker. I asked her for an update and she said she didn’t know but would ask the in-day supervisor to call me. A flurry of phone calls later and I was instructed to go to the hospital alone and to keep my presence on the down-low since the mom was still there.

It took me a while to find the maternity ward, but when I finally arrived, the nursing staff was expecting me. They quietly ushered me into an empty room to watch videos about SIDS, shaken baby syndrome, car seat safety, and what type of testing the hospital performed on babies before they were released. I didn’t want to sit and wait, I wanted to see the baby. I managed to keep mostly still as the nurses forgot about me between videos. Alone in the quiet room, I thought about what it might be like being a patient, a new mom trying to recuperate from giving birth. I thought about the anguish the baby’s mom would feel, leaving the hospital without her baby. After what felt like an eternity, the county case worker came into the room with her supervisor. They let me know the baby was expected in court in two days and said they were going to tell the mom they were taking her baby. Not long after they left the room a nice older nurse came in pushing a plastic baby bassinet in front of her. “Here he is,” she announced quietly. She gave me some information about the baby and then watched me dress him. My hands were shaking as I nervously and gently pushed his arms and legs into the outfit I carefully chose for him. He was so tiny with a head of dark hair. He didn’t open his eyes as I dressed him, but squawked in protest as I tried to thread his tiny hand through the sleeve. After he was dressed the nurse helped me adjust the car seat straps and then said she would come back with an escort for me. The staff and case workers were nervous his mom would get aggressive if she saw me leaving with him. Again, my heart ached for her, but the overwhelming joy I felt washed away those feelings.

I remember how surreal everything felt that morning. I was jittery, like I was on a caffeine high, unable to sit still at home or waiting in the hospital. Walking into the hospital with an empty car seat, I felt so conspicuous and rather odd. Most people go to the hospital to have a baby, not get a baby. But, this distinction was not on my mind as much as the thought that it was really happening this time. I was actually on the maternity ward waiting for a baby to be placed in my arms. Watching the videos and just sitting around made the wait nearly unbearable. At one point a nurse brought in a goodie bag with formula a t-shirt from the hospital, a blanket, comb, samples of lotion and baby shampoo and tons of coupons. Knowing the situation, she even snuck an extra formula into the bag for me. I remember texting some friends that I was anxiously waiting and how impatient I was to actually see the baby. I wished they had brought him in so I could snuggle him while I watched the videos. Until the baby was in the room, it all felt so unreal. I paced the room, peeked out the window and tried to contain my nervous energy. Then things happened all at once. The case workers arrived and talked to be briefly. The doctor came in to review a few things about caring for the baby and to tell me about his first doctor’s appointment. And then finally, the nurse brought him in the room. I held my breath as she wheeled him over to me. He was wrapped tightly in two blankets, just his little face and head peeking out. His eyes were shut tightly. The nurse began emptying the contents of the drawers beneath the bassinet into my diaper bag. She handed me his hat and said I should dress him. I was almost dumbstruck, staring in awe at this tiny little life they were entrusting to my care. I didn’t want to dress him I wanted to embrace him, to sweep him into my arms and snuggle him into my heart. But, I dutifully followed directions. I was awkward with the baby and afraid the nurse would sense my unease and tell the case workers to change their minds. I talked softly to the baby explaining I was getting him dressed and we would soon leave. The nurse left the room once I had him dressed and I had a brief moment to kiss his cheek before she returned and helped me bundle him into the car seat. Then we were off. It was a long walk with the security guard because I parked on the wrong side of the hospital. And I was thankful for the escort because I don’t think I would have found my way back out of the hospital. I was almost dizzy with emotions. I couldn’t believe this was actually happening.  

I thought how odd it was that I was leaving the hospital with an escort for the second time in two months (the baby I had for a weekend I also picked up at a different hospital and there were concerns about his parents being aggressive). I strapped the sleeping baby in the back of the car and then sat still for a moment to really take in what was happening. “It’s just you and me now, buddy,” I said as I put the car in gear and drove the short distance home. I couldn’t wait to get home and hold the baby. I struggled with myself about waking him, but my arms were nearly twitching to hold him so I carefully slipped him out of the car seat and nuzzled him under my chin. He was so tiny! And so perfect. I spent the afternoon just holding him and staring at his beautiful features. I literally pinched myself twice to be sure I wasn’t dreaming. I let my family and close friends know he was home with me. I remember how slow I was at everything with him, my movements methodical and careful like I was dealing with a doll made of tissue paper. Eventually I became more comfortable with manipulating the baby, but at first I was overly cautious. I probably did hold him too much, as a friend accused me, and spoiled him a little bit, but I simply couldn’t help myself. I had dreamed so long of having a baby, of holding such a precious gift, that it was hard to put him down. I also found that at first, he wouldn’t sleep unless I was holding him. I often think back to the very beginning and still can’t believe it happened. And I can’t believe Love Bug has been with me for his entire first year of life.

I was home from work for two weeks with Love Bug before I had to return to the daily grind. I was exhausted and struggled to stay awake most of the time because he was (and still is) such a terrible sleeper. I feel like the first 3-4 months were just a fuzzy blur because I was getting such little sleep. It’s really hard to believe that it was a year ago that I met Love Bug. It’s even harder to believe that he’s still here, still the sweet baby boy that I’ve been so blessed to be raising and loving. I’m the only woman he’s really known as his mom, I’m his primary care giver, the one he seeks when he needs comfort. He is the most adorable baby, with big bright eyes, soft messy curls, and a smile that makes me grin from ear to ear. His giggle is pure joy, his baby babble melodic and sweet. He loves being the center of attention at home, with Primero and Chica Marie fawning over him. I try very hard not to call him mine but he is – he’s my baby. He’s a momma’s boy through and through. And I love him with every fiber of my being. My sweet baby Love Bug.

First Birthday

It is so hard to believe that my precious Love Bug is one year old! This year has just flown by in the blink of an eye! It has been the most amazing journey to be with Love Bug since the beginning, to watch him grow and learn has been the greatest blessing of my life. I love watching Love Bug reach new milestones and accomplish new things, it is such a joy and one I’m so grateful to have. Sometimes I feel like it’s Love Bug who is the glue to our family, sticking us together because we all dote on him as the baby. He’s crawling like a champ and getting into so many things. He loves power cords and so we’ve become rather creative in hiding them from him. He also really likes to chew on shoes. He crawls into my bedroom and opens my dresser drawers but hasn’t yet opened the drawers in the kitchen. I have the hardest time keeping him from chewing on the dog food or splashing in her water bowl. Love Bug also really enjoys Primero’s cat, Harmony. Often times he will be sitting on the floor and she’ll rub up against him or swish her tail across his head. Thus far, they’ve been very gentle with one another and he gently taps her on the head or tries to grab her tail and eat it. Love Bug has also discovered the dog is very interesting, especially her feet and face whiskers. Canela is very leery of him, but has been tolerating his gentle probing of her toes and facial hair. Love Bug tries every chance he gets to put his sister’s hair in his mouth. Her poufy curls must look delectable to him. Primero is probably Love Bug’s favorite. I have so many pictures of them cuddling together or of Love  Bug reaching up to grab Primero’s face. Their relationship always warms my heart. I wish I could share pictures of Love Bug because he’s just the most beautiful child, with long thick black eyelashes and soft pouty lips. He has crazy hair that stands up in the hair ala Einstein, but it is so soft and curly I simply love it. I hope his hair stays this soft. If course, he will hate his curls as he gets older but they are so endearing. I should think about giving him his first haircut to give those curls some shape, but right now I can’t imagine losing those beautiful ringlets. Love Bug still only has 6 teeth that he got all at once between 6-8 months. Unfortunately, he already has a biting problem, which is something I want to curtail before it gets too out-of-hand. Right now I tell him “NO!” and he laughs at me then puts his mouth back over me, daring me to tell him no again. He has bitten me on a few occasions. The first time he bit my breast and I almost flung him on the floor. He bit my breast a second time and also he’s bitten my arm and given me a black and blue mark from it. I was not pleased. Love Bug still calms down when Primero plays music, especially when he plays Fall Out Boy or any rock music. Love Bug is all about the rock music! His smile melts my heart and his giggle makes me beam with delight. I love this baby with all my heart and I pray that we have many, many more birthday’s and milestones to celebrate together as a family. Happy first birthday Love Bug!   

Pirate Party

We had Love Bug’s first birthday party on Saturday. It was exhausting and stressful. Primero was an incredible help both the night before and during the party. Unfortunately, Love Bug was still sick and not in the mood for much partying. He howled anytime anyone but me tried to hold him. His grandmother was there with his aunt and cousin who is just a few months older than him. His former baby-sitter came with her girls, her mother and adult daughter. My aunt and uncle were there and my mom, but not my dad because he was working at the market. The owners of his current daycare were there as well as another friend from work and my former college roommate and her baby. And my close friend, who helped get some of the food in order and set up was also there. So, it was a small party, but it was nice. I just wish I hadn’t been so stressed out about it that I could enjoy the party more. I forgot I had wanted to bring his baby book along for everyone to sign as a keepsake and I’m so so so bummed about that. I’m thinking of carting it around with me to get signatures of everyone who was there. I made a pirate ship out of a watermelon and added other fruit for a fruit salad. I cut hotdogs and boiled them to make octopus’ which everyone seemed to enjoy. My mom made chicken salad and I made egg salad which I put on small croissants for little sandwiches. I made a veggie pizza from my friend’s recipe. She makes it for all her shindigs and I always love it. I also made ham and veggie wraps and cut them into pinwheel pieces. We had chips, pretzels, goldfish, cheese, and pickles. I bought bottled water and wanted to make punch in these cute glass serving containers only I filled them with ice which clogged the spout and then it began to leak. Primero and his friend led the games for the children. We had pin the eye patch on the pirate, pirate themed tattoos, and a treasure chest piñata. We arrived late at the party, luckily my mom was the only one on time. On our way to the venue I realized I forgot the baby’s diaper bag with, among other important things, his special pirate onsie and pirate leggings I bought off of Etsy. So, after Primero and his friend helped me unload the van, I ran back home to grab the diaper bag and get back to the party. I had no hand in helping to set up the decorations or anything. I ate a few bites of food but couldn’t finish anything because Love Bug was glued to my side and screamed if I tried to pry him off of me even for a brief moment. By the time the party was over and we stuffed all the left-over food into the refrigerator, I was ready for bed. If I had to do it again, I would certainly try the less is more approach and not have quite as much going on or enlist more help in food preparation.

Friday afternoon was court for the little ones. I expected it to be long and messy, since that’s how it was the last time. Instead, it seemed like things were more organized. When we got there we were ushered into a back play room for the kids. The county case worker didn’t want them to see their mom at all, so the plan was for an intern to baby-sit while the adults were in court. If the judge wanted to see the children another case worker would bring them into the court room from a back entrance. We waited in the playroom for about an hour until we were called into court. During that time I chatted a bit with the sister’s foster family. They raved about how different she was without the visits and how much they loved her now. Despite being given an invitation weeks prior, they forgot about Love Bug’s party and had made other plans. I was so bummed and so was his sister. We were instructed to get the children together once a month on our own, assuming they would not be seeing one another at visits. We filed into court and their mom was already seated at the table. She did not turn around to look at us. Since the judge was not in the court room the mom’s attorney, the county’s attorney, the county case worker, the GAL, and some other random person all went into a room behind the courtroom to talk. I had more hushed conversations with the sister’s foster mom. I don’t know how to explain it, there is something about her sudden change in attitude towards the sister that seems wonky to me. I feel like this is the first time I’ve ever heard her speak positively about the child. After about 20 minutes, the group came back into the courtroom and about 10 minutes after that the judge showed up and started the court session. Before anything got started the mom’s attorney asked for a side bar and the whole group including the judge traipsed back into the back room for another 15 minutes. When they came back out the judge asked the county attorney to state the purpose of the court session and then recognized that the bio mom had agreed to have the visits suspended and that she would begin doing the things the county has asked her to do in order to get her kids back. Court was then adjourned.

Love Bug’s mom had gotten him a toy car that he can sit on and it plays lots of songs and talks (I still haven’t completely assembled it) for his birthday. The county case worker gave it to me and the CHOR case worker covering the court hearing (our normal case worker was out on vacation) helped me carry it to the car. Saturday I got a letter stating we have a permanency hearing the second week in July. I feel like last summer we went a long time with no court hearings (because mom and her lawyer kept getting them pushed back to get her a more favorable psych evaluation) and now we seem to be having them constantly, one in May, one in June, now one in July. I don’t know what will be discussed at the permanency hearing or if it will just be the same rehashing of the same things ad nauseam. Love Bug will officially turn one on Saturday and next Tuesday he will have lived with me for a year. I feel like it’s time for things to start happening rather than letting him and his sisters languish in the system. We shall see.

It was nice to see the kids grandmother at the birthday party. She was thankful to be invited and to participate. She said she has been working a lot of overtime and not been able to make time for visits. She indicated she was still trying to get the older sister moved in with her. She also indicated that the kids mom had recently been in jail because she helped transport her once she got released. The grandmother was happy to know that Love Bug and Chica Marie have been doing well. I told her about court the day before and when I said I felt bad for their mom she stopped me. “It’s all about what’s best for the kids.” She reminded me. There is certainly a sadness in her voice when she talks about her daughter. But, she wants to be sure her grandchildren are taken care of first and foremost. I can certainly respect that. I hope she will stay a presence in the children’s lives because I think she is a good link to have to their older siblings and a better understanding of their past.    

A Rose by Any Other Name

It saddens me that I don’t get to name my first child, I have no say in that aspect at all. I was one of those girls who had a name for every doll, every pet and I thought painstakingly over those names to decide on the most fitting name. I used to write down names I heard that I liked because I wanted to remember them when I became a mother. But, this too has been taken from me by infertility. I know some adoptive parents don’t care, they get to raise a child so who cares about a name? I guess I just don’t see it that way. Yes, I am incredibly grateful that I get the opportunity to parent children, but I still feel so much loss in all of this. Primero’s county case worker was supposed to come over last night, but she had something else come up. She had asked for Primero to decide on what he wants his “new” name to be and reiterated in her email she would like that information. I spoke to Primero about it some time ago and he was reluctant to change his name, which I TOTALLY understand. I would never dream of even suggesting he change his first or even his middle name. I would, however, really like if we could share the same last name. The problem is, he already has a hyphenated last name, so we couldn’t just throw my name onto the back of his (which, I’ve always opposed because I’m returning to my maiden name and it’s 13 letters long!!!). I had suggested adding my last name as a second middle name, but he didn’t seem to like that idea. He would rather have 3 last names, which is not only ridiculous (especially when ONE of those names is 13 letters!) but I don’t even know if it is legally acceptable. I know it’s stupid, but I feel like sharing a name makes us a little more like a family, it’s a way to include him as one of “us.” I plan on changing the last names of the little ones (I will keep Love Bug’s name but change his middle name to my dad’s middle name giving them the same initials – for Chica Marie I just don’t like her first name at all, so I plan on making that her middle name and giving her a first name with an initial to match the nickname we use), so that would mean Primero is the only one not sharing our name. And that makes me so sad. It also makes me wonder about how committed he is to the adoption, which again, is stupid. But what tie do we have, other than a piece of paper stating we are a family? He won’t call me “Mom,” he won’t have the same last name, he doesn’t share the same moral ideals or religious convictions and sometimes I think he’s only interested in adoption so he can have the freedoms he lost being in foster care. These are things I keep to myself, mostly. I share them here to try to get my head straight so I can soldier on.

It turned out being a good thing that the county case worker didn’t come over because we ended up taking Love Bug to the ER last night. I wasn’t at my desk at work all afternoon yesterday and the daycare was trying to reach me to tell me Love Bug had a fever. Unfortunately, I didn’t get this message until it was almost time for me to leave work. When I picked Love Bug up he felt very warm. We went home and I took his temperature and the thermometer read 104.6 °F! I took it again just to be sure and the same reading came out. I called my mom and she advised taking him straight to the ER. We sat there FOREVER. When the triage nurse finally took his temperature it was only 102. When we were called back to a room the nurse read his temperature at 103. He was given Motrin and we waited some more for the doctor to come see him. She said he didn’t look too bad and she was fairly sure it was some viral thing going around that caused kids to spike very high fevers, but she wanted to be sure so she ordered a chest x-ray (because he coughed in front of her) and a urine sample. By this time, we had been in the hospital for well over 2 hours and Love Bug had spent that time sleeping on my shoulder. He was not willing to be disturbed for all this poking and prodding. For the chest x-ray they had a plastic tube attached to a table where his legs would hang down and I would hold his hands up out of the tube. He cried and tried to pull himself to me and so I sang to him to try to calm him down (goofy songs because I’m no singer). Then, they had to cath him to get urine and that was way worse than the chest x-ray. When Primero heard what they would be doing, he freaked remembering his own experience with a catheter last year. I held Love Bug’s hand and stroked his hair as the nurse tried and tried to get some urine from him. But, we had been there for over 3 hours and he hadn’t eaten or drunken anything, so they could only get a little bit of urine and had to hope it was enough. After all the poking and prodding Love Bug fell asleep and Primero, Chica Marie and I watched a movie. We saw all of Aladdin and most of Despicable Me II while waiting. Luckily Chica Maire was well-behaved the whole time, unlike the last time we were at the ER with her for Primero’s issue last year. We got home around 11 last night and I was so exhausted I just wanted to crawl right into bed. Love Bug was feeling a little better from the medicine and didn’t want to sleep, so I ended up putting him in bed with me after two attempts to get him to settle in his crib. The doctor warned me that he will probably still have 2-3 more days of high fevers which I should treat with Motrin or children’s Tylenol. As long as he doesn’t stop eating or become too sluggish he should be fine. In hindsight, I think he has the same thing that Chica Marie had last week because she too spiked a high fever out of nowhere and was lethargic, sleeping most of the day. I hope we are done with this nasty fever virus!

Mum Mum Mum

Primero’s sister spent the weekend with us again. Saturday morning Chica Marie had therapy, so we had to get up and take her there. Her sister was away on vacation, so she did not attend the session. The therapist told me mom was on the way, so we left to run some errands, like ordering Love Bug’s birthday cake and getting a money order for me to send for my name change paperwork. When we got back the therapist asked me to come upstairs with her and Chica Marie. She explained that mom never showed. She said she knew court was coming up this week and while she doesn’t attend court, she will write a recommendation that the children not be returned to their mother at this time. She said the sessions are so chaotic that she can’t even work with the mom and girls to do the PCIT therapy as the treatment plan states. She definitely noticed a difference in Chica Marie when her mother was not there, how much more calm she was and how she was less defiant and listened better. She said any future therapy sessions are dependent upon the decision the judge makes at court. I would be oh-so happy if they would just discontinue these Saturday therapy sessions.  

After the therapy session we took the kids home to nap. Then we spent the rest of the afternoon at the pool. Unlike all previous times we went swimming, this time Chica Marie was really into it and even started putting her face underwater all on her own. Love Bug also began splashing more and kicking in the water. And, he has begun saying, “Mum mum mum.” Primero’s sister heard him say it Friday night, but I didn’t hear it. When I went to get him out of his crib Saturday morning, he put his arms up and said, “Mum mum mum.” I got all teary eyed and scooped him up to kiss his sweet cheeks. Now, when he’s crawling around the house looking for me he’s saying, “Mum mum mum mum mum” like a little song. It’s so precious. 

So, I found out from Primero’s sister that his girlfriend almost broke up with him. She is planning on working for the same organization that hosts the summer camp and apparently she was told she couldn’t be in a relationship with anyone else attending the programs. So, she told him they would have to break up but somehow he talked her out of it or something. He didn’t really want to share too many of the details because he knew my reaction to the whole thing would be negative. And it is. I mean, seriously, who does this chick think she is? She has a baby with some other boy and expects Primero to hang around and still date her. She kisses this other boy during one of his many visits to her house and she still wants Primero to hang around and be her boyfriend. She got angry with Primero because another girl at the after school program told him she likes him and he didn’t tell the girlfriend about it, so she was upset. And now, after all this, she tells him they have to break up because she can’t date and work in the summer program. I want to smack her. I’ve tried to be supportive of Primero making his own decisions, but this is ridiculous. Who deserves to be treated this way? He is loyal to a fault and she’s just using him. He invited her to Love Bug’s birthday party but her mother won’t let her attend because she doesn’t like me. I’ve offered to have his girlfriend and her baby spend time with us – like going to the pool or walking around the mall, but her mom won’t let her. Seems like her mom is trying to put the horse back into the barn by being super strict with her now that she’s had a baby. Too bad all this protectiveness wasn’t around last summer when she got pregnant. I really wish she would just break up with him. He seems to spend most of his time flirting with guys anyway. And he sees no problem in that. He insists he’s not a cheater, but I believe he is skirting very close to it. 

Lately I just feel like I’m messing everything up. I feel like I can’t do anything right. I’ve been doing this 21 day Beachbody fix to start losing weight for my sister’s wedding next July and I hate it. I have to exercise every day and eat certain quantities of certain foods and I hate it. Most days I manage to stay on track and not eat anything unhealthy, but Friday night’s I don’t cook, we go out to eat, so what do I do? I eat a delicious bacon cheeseburger, which is not an approved food. This past week I have managed to work out every day but I can’t always do all of the exercise moves required and I feel like such a fat, hideous slob for it. Primero’s sister thought we fought more because she was around but I didn’t even think we were fighting (other than Primero getting pissed off when his sister and I were talking about his girlfriend and all of that). I just get annoyed with him about things – like pulling apart a drawer to get the Seran wrap and not putting things back like he found them so when I opened the drawer it got stuck. Stupid, I know. Most of the time with him I feel like his personal taxi and bank and that’s about it. Last week I took all of his electronics because he was being disrespectful and he didn’t see it. I know I yell too much in the mornings because of the pressure of getting us all out the door on time. I know I’m too hard on myself to keep everything in the house a certain way (how does the mail pile multiple overnight I ask you?) and that I should find more joy and levity in everyday things, like Primero’s sister getting locked in that bathroom at three in the morning because the mechanism in the bolt broke. I let too many things drag me down, like not being able to shower because Primero and I pulled the old broken shower curtain down and the new one won’t stay hanging from the ceiling. Or that the faucet in the bathroom leaks so bad there’s a puddle under it in the basement. Ugh! Life isn’t easy, not one bit. And sometimes I just wish there were someone to help me out with all of these nuisance issues. My dad does help but he has such limited time I feel bad even asking. And I know it bugs my mom when I do. I guess, as long as I’m drawing breath, I have a lot to keep working on…..

Revealing Plan

I think Primero and his sister are concocting a scheme. It’s just a sense I have about things. His sister is unhappy in her current home right now and since she spent a weekend with us and both siblings had a lovely time, I think they are trying to make it permanent. He asked to have her come over tonight and spend the night and I agreed. She wants to come over the weekend again and I said that’s fine. I have no problem with her spending time at our place. I grew up with my younger siblings and our only separation during childhood was sleep-overs and being in different grades at school. On the farm, we mostly had each other to play with or spend time with and even as I got older (and my brother morphed into the alien) I chose to spend time with my sister, taking her places with me. I’m sure I would have been devastated if my younger sister had been taken to live with another family and I couldn’t spend time with her. In fact, it was incredibly hard when I left for college because she was so far away and I missed out on parts of her life and she missed out on parts of my life. So, I get the scheming and the thoughts on how nice it would be. I wish my house were a bit bigger so I could accommodate his sister and not get into hot water with CHOR or the county. My sneaking suspicion is that they would oppose her moving in because of the strict limit on capacity due to the size of the home. I guess it wouldn’t hurt to ask…..

Last night we attended the after school banquet at CHOR. It was much different attending this year because of having the little kids in addition to Primero. I was trying to keep a squirmy Love Bug content while the case workers were announcing the awards. Chica Marie was sitting with another family because their daughter let her play on her cell phone. Primero was at a different table with some of the other teens. As the names of other children were being called I heard two names that shocked me. I had been contacted about these two boys as an adoptive resource two years ago! [See more on this story here http://emptyarmsandbrokenheart.blogspot.com/2013/02/one-two-punch.html, http://emptyarmsandbrokenheart.blogspot.com/2013/03/heavy-heart.html, http://emptyarmsandbrokenheart.blogspot.com/2013/03/weary.html,  http://emptyarmsandbrokenheart.blogspot.com/2013/03/meet-n-greet.html,  http://emptyarmsandbrokenheart.blogspot.com/2013/04/conflicted-confused.html, http://emptyarmsandbrokenheart.blogspot.com/2013/05/expect-expected.html] My heart skipped a beat. I hoped that these two boys didn’t have their adoption disrupted and were sent back to foster care, which was my fear. After the awards presentation I walked over to the foster mom to find out. She had been the foster mother for Chica Marie’s older sister, so we talked about that first before I asked about the boys. It turns out she was the other family that the county chose instead of me! I was so glad I nearly cried! She said she has been waiting these two years to officially adopt the boys and hopes it will be next month. I told her why I asked, that I worried they had been sent back into the system and she said they have been with her since the county made the decision she could adopt them. And then we smiled about how it all worked out – she’s adopting the boys and I have the three children that fit so well with me. I thanked God for His divine wisdom in this story and for revealing it to me. I’m so glad we went the banquet last night and I’m so thankful the two little boys found the very best home for them.

Reversion

I found out last week, when our CHOR case worker was visiting that the family who has Chica Marie’s older sister has decided to keep her, rather than follow through on their 30 days’ notice. Apparently, they have also agreed to be an adoptive resource for her as well. Wow! What a 180 from a month ago! I don’t mean to be, but I am skeptical at this latest turn of events. In my interactions with the foster mother and her adult daughter (who is a decade or two older than me, I might add), they have been overwhelmed with the older sister’s behaviors and were more than happy to have her removed. Even the last time I saw them, they indicated it had been 30 days and she was still with them, as if to say their patience has run thin. I don’t know, I guess it’s just the sense that I get with things. I’ve been wrong before and I hope I’m wrong again. When the bio mom mentioned it to me (this all happened at the last Saturday therapy session), she was angry and wanted nothing more than for her daughter to be removed from that home and placed with her mother. It doesn’t sound like that option has been revisited. She did indicate that her mother planned on taking the older sister to the baby’s birthday party.

On Friday I had to take Chica Marie to an intake session for her new therapy. Because the new therapy group was leery of having just me bring her in, the CHOR case worker asked bio mom to attend so she could sign all the medical documents. I was not looking forward to this session at all. Fortunately, bio mom is ok with me so I didn’t have to worry about all of that. Unfortunately, she looked like she was under the influence during the session and she minimized most of Chica Marie’s behaviors, sometimes even negating what input I had given. When she took Chica Marie to the bathroom (which apparently she isn’t allowed to do by herself – I only found this out after the session when I reported everything to the CHOR case worker and her previous therapist), I told the intake therapist the things I could not say in front of the bio mom, like the fact that the county is trying to suspend her visits. I also mentioned she looked high, but the therapist said she couldn’t tell from the sunlight since bio mom was sitting in front of the window. Bio mom was invited to participate in the therapy, which seems contradictory to me due to the push for no visits. I was texting the case worker while the intake was occurring because it was so discombobulated. I know she forwarded my concerns along to the county worker but I haven’t heard what, if anything, has been done.

In other news, I found a way to get my name changed back to my maiden name. I’m excited and yet I’m not. I will be glad to be rid of Flaco’s last name because I feel no ties to it. But, by changing my name I’m letting the world know I’m no longer married. I still don’t say the “D” word so I’m hoping there won’t be a lot of questioning as to the change from co-workers and whatnot. I know there are plenty of women who get divorced and keep their married name, but I just don’t see any reason to keep it. If there were children with the last name or if I had gotten some form of special recognition with that name on it, I could see keeping it. But, barring those situations I don’t see a need to hang onto a name that just isn’t mine. Plus, it’s a name from a culture that isn’t mine. So I will take up my 13 letter moniker again and get a hand cramp signing my name.

Sister Visit

We had another busy weekend this past weekend. We had Primero’s older sister staying with us for a visit. Initially we had planned to just spend the day with her on Saturday, but we ended up picking her up Friday night and then took her home Sunday afternoon. Saturday we first had to take Primero and Chica Marie to get blood drawn, although the test they wanted to do for Primero couldn’t be done on a Saturday. And Chica Marie screams like a banshee when getting blood drawn, which is always fun. We were fortunate to have Primero’s older sister there to occupy Love Bug so Primero and I could hold Chica Marie down. After fun times at the lab we took Chica Marie to therapy then went to the mall where I got some more clothing for the kids and had them take an anti-theft sensor off of a previous purchased dress for Chica Marie. Primero and his sister wanted to walk around the mall but we had such limited time before we had to be back to pick Chica Marie up from therapy.

This Saturday therapy thing is beyond old at this point. It eats into our day so that it’s hard to plan around it. Her mom is almost never on time, so we waste time sitting and waiting for her for 15, 20, 30 minutes. During that time I talk to her sister’s foster family. This past Saturday I had to hear all about the last visit – the one where I quickly escaped with Chica Marie while the conversation got heated. The foster mom and her adult daughter told me their side of things and how unreasonable the mom was and how the girl tells lies. After the therapy the mom was waiting with Chica Marie and I then heard her side of the story and about how much she dislikes this family and wants her daughter to be with her mom (the grandmother) or she won’t speak to anyone in the family ever again. When the mom was telling me these things I thought to myself, “I wonder if this is what it feels like to be a case worker?” The foster family was telling me how much they wished the visits could be cancelled altogether and how different the girl would be if her mom would just let her be a child. I heard both sides of how the girl put a plastic bag over her head to kill herself. I heard the mom telling me how they tried to take her visits from her at court and she won’t stop fighting, she won’t give up on her kids. Oh how badly I wanted to tell her she could get her kids back if only she would play by their rules and comply to the things they require of her! But, I kept my mouth shut. I listened – again. I feel bad for both sides. I know how abrasive the mom can be and how she tries to get in your face and intimidate you. She did that to me too in the beginning. I know how troubled the older sister is and how she will say anything to get what she wants. I know how tied she is to her mom and also how much she resents her mother. I feel bad for the bio mom, struggling with so many issues that seem impossible to overcome. I too hope the grandmother can take the older girl so she won’t have to be bouncing all over from foster home to foster home. I’m glad that Chica Marie and Love Bug have had some consistency and stability in their lives.

After therapy we went to a local orchard for a tasting event, which was nice but it was crowded and the older kids kept wandering off leaving me to push the stroller while holding the baby because of course he woke up and refused to stay in the stroller. The day had gotten quite hot so we decided to go swimming at the local pool. Thankfully, the local pool is open this year. Last year it was closed due to needing some massive renovations. Last year we took Love Bug to the pool but I never took him into the pool because he was so tiny. So, this was his first time at the pool and he seemed to like it. At first he seemed scared but after a little bit he got used to it. He never cried, even when Primero dunked him. When I sat on the edge of the pool with him he really liked splashing in the water, like he does the bath tub. Chica Marie was terrified of the pool last year but she got in on her own later in the day. She would hang onto the stairs and dip herself in. Primero threw her into the pool and she freaked out, but she did let us hold her and pass her around, so I think with time she will like the pool a lot more.

Sunday afternoon we took Primero’s sister back home and Primero asked me, “How would it work for my sister to move in with us?” Um what? He played it off, like maybe sometime far into the future she could move in with us and he wanted to know how that could happen. I said as long as I have children in the home in foster care, the county and CHOR would need to be notified and she would have to get her background check and clearances. I said the other issue would be space, since the only viable area for her would be in his bedroom. He was ok with this idea, but I don’t know how keen his sister would be on sharing a room with her teenage brother. His sister turned 18 in March and still doesn’t have much freedom in the home she is living in currently. She is not allowed to get her driver’s license or find a job. She will be in high school next year, due to being held back from missing a lot of school so she feels obligated to stay with the family she is with, but the rules are very strict for her. The woman she lives with is not technically related to them, but they call her their aunt. She has a bunch of kids and I thought she was married, but she is not. I’ve spoken with her a few times and she’s ok, but I get the sense that she is very controlling and thinks she’s better than everyone, especially the kids mother. So, I’m not her biggest fan, but I think she does the best she can. Hopefully his sister can hang in there for one more year and then find her own place and gain her freedom.

Speaking of freedom, I was notified at lunch today that Primero’s mother was release from jail. We were expecting this, since Primero ran into her boyfriend in town last week and the boyfriend told him she would be released to rehab soon. I asked Primero what this means to him and he said nothing. I said it meant something last time and that’s when we started having all kinds of trouble, but he denies that his mother popping back into the picture had anything to do with it. I was sort of hoping she would stay in until the adoption, but no such luck. I do wish her well and hope she can make it work this time. I know it’s hard on Primero to see her going in and out of jail, even if he denies it. I asked him if he wanted to try to see her and he indicated that she would most likely be in rehab somewhere far away. It makes sense to get her away from all the trouble she finds in town and hopefully she can keep that same idea going if she does come back to town.

We are now in June and I have to really start working on getting things nailed down for Love Bug’s party. Right now the guest list is hovering around 20 people but there are a bunch more who have not yet responded. I have one maybe and one no (she’s scheduled for a C-section the day before!). I need to figure out the food for the party and order the cake. I simply can’t believe this tiny baby has grown so much and so quickly! I’m looking forward to his party but really think I might cry.