The Broken Tooth and Transportation Saga

There have been two things stressing me out this week. Transportation for Chica Marie to a new special program that’s supposed to help her get ready to start school in the fall and the impending surgery for Love Bug’s tooth extraction. Here’s the deal:

 

Many, many moons ago I filled out paperwork for Chica Marie to be assessed for an early intervention type program aimed at getting kids ready for school. Due to my concerns, they set us up for an evaluation. It took me a long time and many phone calls to get the appointment, which was set for November. They sent paperwork asking for consent, which I dutifully gave to my case worker (two case workers ago!) to have the county sign or find bio mom to sign it. I reminded the case worker the week before that I needed this paperwork back for the impending evaluation and she admitted to having forgotten all about it. She hustled to get it signed but bio mom could not be found and so the papers went unsigned. We missed the appointment and I got a strongly worded letter admonishing me for missing the appointment and wasting everyone’s time. I did try to call and let staff know we wouldn’t be coming and the reason why. But, it’s so incredibly hard to reach a live person! And then, once you reach a live person they have NO CLUE what you’re talking about. After the mix-up, I called at least 6 times trying to reschedule before successfully setting up the new appointment, which the signed paperwork, for January. Then the team had 60 days to make a recommendation, set up a second appointment to discuss options if she qualified and to start the program. At the second meeting they told me transportation would call me a few weeks before the class started to let me know the time they would be picking her up. They called me the Monday after Easter when I was home from work and told me they would pick her up at daycare at 7:30 am. I said it wasn’t going to work. I called and spoke with a supervisor last week and I was told the teacher would have to request the change and if they moved the pick up to our home it would be at 8:10 am. I usually leave the house at 8 to get Primero to school by 8:10. I called the teacher. I left messages. I called and spoke to a live person this Monday and she said the teacher was super part-time but she would email her the message that I called. I was at work and missed her call. A few more calls from me and we FINALLY spoke this morning. Chica Marie started class yesterday. I had to take her to daycare, then zigzag across town to take Primero to school and get back to work. I am not willing to do that every Monday and Wednesday until August. When I spoke to the teacher this morning (of course she called while I was at Love Bug’s doctor’s appointment) she said I could drop Chica Marie off at the school at 8:30, but that is the exact time I start work, so no go there. Plus, I would have to pick her up again at 11 and take her to daycare. Nope, not happening. So, the teacher is going to see if she can change the pick up to our home at 8:10. It’s our only hope. Primero will have to walk to school on Monday’s and Wednesday’s. If they can’t change the pick up, then Chica Marie will not be able to attend. But, what a nightmare!!

 

Now the Love Bug and his tooth saga. He fell Sunday. First thing Monday morning I submitted the incident report via email and also followed up with a phone call to his case worker at CHOR. She called and thanked me for the information. We emailed back and forth regarding how he was feeling and the plans made by the dentist to pull the tooth. Only after I mentioned the need for surgery (to pull the tooth he will need to be under anesthesia) did she ask if I notified the county. Erm, isn’t that your job? She asked me this Tuesday afternoon. Yesterday during lunch she called me to report she could not reach bio mom and since it was already Wednesday and the surgery was for Monday it would have to be postponed. A baby is going to be made to suffer for bureaucratic paperwork? Not acceptable! I was so angry I was crying on the phone. I felt helpless and angry that Love Bug would be made to suffer with a broken tooth for longer simply because his bio mom was not readily available to sign paperwork. How dare they make him suffer for something so stupid! Luckily, when the CHOR case worker emailed the county case worker, she responded with PLEASE DON’T CANCEL THE SURGERY and put the CHOR case worker in touch with the mom. Paperwork was signed last night and the surgery is on. Thank God! Before the phone call from the CHOR case worker, I had emailed her about respite for this weekend (a visit with Primero’s mom is scheduled for Saturday). When she spoke with me last night, she said her supervisor didn’t want Love Bug in respite because he was in pain and so grumpy. So, I’m being punished for standing up for him, but so be it! I will get respite for the visit with Primero’s mom, but that is all. At least we can keep those plans! Everything else I had planned will need to be rescheduled. Sigh.

Chaperoned Date

We saw the dentist yesterday afternoon and it was determined that Love Bug would have the damaged tooth removed. The dentist questioned if the tooth was pushed up into the gum, but it was hard to really access the trauma to the area because Love Bug would not hold still. To keep him calm, Primero had turned music on his phone and gave Love Bug the phone to hold. But then Primero’s mom called and so he snatched away the phone and disappeared (I brought him along specifically to help me so I was very displeased when he just disappeared), causing Love Bug to have a full on temper tantrum in my lap on the dentist chair. Not a conducive environment to evaluating the condition of his teeth, as can be imagined. The dentist did think the tooth next to his front tooth was also severely chipped and she said she would cap it while he was under getting the first tooth removed. The earliest appointment time for the extraction was Monday. So Love Bug needs to deal with his discomfort for a week. He’s been particularly grumpy since the accident and the only remedy I have is baby Tylenol. I worry about giving him too much of it, so I’m trying to limit it to once at night before bed and once in the morning to get the day going. I feel so bad for him! Primero doesn’t think he’s in pain, but I think he’s uncomfortable. It’s going to be a long week if he is this grumpy every day!

 

So this past weekend was an interesting one. The only plans I had for Saturday was to go grocery shopping. While cleaning the house I overheard Primero’s girlfriend telling him she was super-bored. As it often does, my mouth began talking before my head had a chance to think about what it was saying. Why not invite her along? We were going further than we usually do to grocery shop because we were going to a discount store about 20 minutes away. Eek! But, I’ve offered for her to do stuff with us before and she was never allowed, so my mind soothed itself saying, she’ll never be allowed to go along! Then Primero came out of his bedroom wearing cologne and I knew it was happening. Sigh. So, we drove to her house to pick up her and her baby, then piled them into the van with the four of us and we were on our way. How strange it was to see Primero helping his girlfriend with her baby! And, sort of annoying because it left me to fend for myself. Love Bug was especially upset by Primero’s attention being on another baby, while Chica Marie peppered the girlfriend with question after question during our drive. I got a little annoyed when the two love birds and baby ran off in the grocery store, mostly because Love Bug took his jealousy out on me, but also because Primero had my phone and thus my shopping list. After purchasing our supplies we headed back home to have dinner at Appleby’s. When the girlfriend took her daughter to the bathroom to change her Primero asked me if he was being a good boyfriend. I think he was nervous, which was kind of cute. I assured him he was being a good boyfriend and I pretended not to notice when they sneaked a kiss. Love Bug was a complete bear during dinner while the girlfriend’s little girl was a total angel. Sigh. Why does it seem I always have the kid acting up? If it’s not Chica Marie, it’s Love Bug. Primero mentioned how his girlfriend had worried the day would be exceptional awkward. I told him I wouldn’t ask her along if I was only going to be mean to her the whole time. I told him he doesn’t give me enough credit. It was an interesting outing and probably something I wouldn’t be opposed to doing again.

Broken Tooth

My poor sweet Love Bug! Yesterday, almost to the day a month after he chipped (and we’re talking a BIG chip) his front tooth at a WIC appointment, he fell and broke the rest of the same tooth. Now there is little more than a stub protruding from his gum. It makes his other teeth seem misshapen and I’m having a hard time with this whole ordeal. I don’t know why teeth and things of the mouth bother me so much, but they do. My stomach has been hurting since the accident yesterday evening. And I had just come to terms with the massive chip in his front tooth. Or course, my feelings on the matter pale in comparison to the trauma for poor Love Bug. Here’s the story.

 

Yesterday I was finishing my spring cleaning of the house. I had started Easter weekend since I was off four days but only got half-way done. I thoroughly cleaned the living room and kitchen, including the windows and curtains. Yesterday I did the bathroom, Chica Marie’s bedroom and my own room (technically, my room is not clean (YET!) but the windows are done!). This took nearly the entire day, so we got to the farm much later than I had anticipated. When we got there Love Bug pitched a royal fit at being brought inside and so I sent him out with Chica Marie. They’ve done this before and the worst that has happened is they got filthy (it is a farm after all!) and Chica Marie wet her pants. When I am at my parents’ house on Thursdays to make dinner for my mom and do some cleaning, if it’s not dark and the weather is ok, the kids play outside while I prepare dinner. Last night Primero questioned allowing Love Bug out with Chica Marie and I informed him they do this all the time and it’s fine. In my mind I questioned my reasoning, but erred on the side of experience and allowed them the freedom of the outdoors. Of course I watch from inside the house, checking on them periodically. I was talking to my mom and my dad had just checked on the kids a few minutes prior when Chica Marie came busting into the house in tears calling me to “look at Love Bug” because he fell. When I saw him, my heart dropped straight out of my chest and I dashed out into the unseasonably cold, blustery day with no shoes on my feet. He picked up his head when I called to him and all I saw was the blood. Bright red blood smeared across his face, comingled with dirt and gravel. He was lying where he fell, sadly sucking his finger in hopes someone would come rescue him. I scooped him up and he whimpered as I searched his face to find where he was bleeding. I noticed his tooth right away and gasped. It was GONE! I hurried back inside to access the damage and the blood seeped into my shirt where Love Bug nestled his head under my chin. In the kitchen I carried him to the kitchen sink, pushing my dad and the potatoes he was peeling aside. I gently wiped the blood from his nose and forehead, seeing no cuts. I then turned my attention to his mouth and found he had a cut on his lower lip and his gum above the broken tooth was bleeding as well. My dad gave him an ice cube to suck on for the swelling as my mom shouted instructions from the living room. I wiped off Love Bugs hands and his chin, finding a small bruise on his chin. After changing my shirt and washing Love Bug’s hands I called the dentist. They didn’t have an on-call center, so I was left to determine if we needed to take Love Bug to the ER or call the dentist first thing in the morning. Love Bug did eat a little and once the initial fear of the fall and blood subsided, he was playing normally with Primero. I gave him some baby Tylenol when we got home and he slept until 4:30 am. Then he woke up and was unable to fall back asleep. I wasn’t sure if it was his cold (or allergies – he’s had a stuffy, running nose for a few days) or his tooth that bothered him, so I gave him some more Tylenol and he eventually fell back asleep.

 

I don’t know what will happen for Love Bug. My mom thinks the dentist will just pull his tooth out, since it is a baby tooth and eventually will be replaced with an adult tooth. Because he is so little this will mean he’ll be put to sleep and so it will be more of an ordeal since his dentist doesn’t do that in her office. Like when Chica Marie had her cavities filled, Love Bug will have to go to the SurgiCenter and be put to sleep, have the tooth pulled and then have a follow up appointment with the dentist afterwards. For his sake, I hope this will happen sooner than later. I don’t know if he’s in pain, he’s been eating and acting normally. He’s never been a great sleeper, so I can’t really gage his discomfort based on him not wanting to sleep. Should I have taken him to the ER last night? Would they have done anything for him there or just checked him over (probably causing him more distress with their poking, prodding, and testing) and told me to call his dentist? I feel so bad! I know it was an accident and toddlers fall all the time, but I feel so guilty for this happening to him! And, I worry that maybe his teeth are too soft, since they seem to break so easily! I hate this waiting! I felt like this when Primero had his issue and even when Flaco cut off the tip of his thumb and we had to wait to see the plastic surgeon and then wait some more for his surgery. Waiting until the solution is prescribed is often times worse than the procedure itself! What makes it even worse, is that Love Bug can’t tell me if he’s in pain, he can’t tell me the Tylenol is wearing off and he could use a little more because he’s uncomfortable. I just have to guess and then hope the Tylenol helps take the edge off if he is in pain. We will see the dentist this afternoon and hopefully knowing there’s a plan in place will help ease my mind and of course, make Love Bug more comfortable.

April Fools!!

Today is April first, which is April Fool’s Day. Oh yippee. I don’t know why or how this phenomenon started, but on April Fool’s Day everyone thinks it’s funny to announce a fake pregnancy. Because pregnancy is funny, right? Only, it’s not so funny when you pour your everything into getting pregnant only to have to face reality – it isn’t going to happen. Then pregnancy becomes a lot less comical. Are invasive, intrusive, expensive infertility treatments funny? Is infertility funny? Would it be funny to fake infertility? Oh, haha! I can’t get pregnant! What a gas! Um, no I don’t think so. So, why then is a fake pregnancy funny? On April first, I try to steer clear of social media and especially Facebook, the land of fake April Fool’s pregnancies.

Getting out of Limbo

Monday evening Chica Marie was evaluated for a TSS worker. This morning she was re-evaluated for sexual abuse (she was evaluated just before moving in with me but it was inconclusive due to her young age). After many moons of little to no services, we’ve hit the motherlode and are now swimming in services. Chica Marie will spend two half-days per week in a special behavioral classroom to get her prepared for kindergarten and she will have a TSS worker with her for 15 hours a week plus her mobile therapist will see her twice a week, once at home and once at daycare. She’s starting school with an IEP. Oh, and her new meds. We finally got permission for her to take the meds, so she started on them today. We’ll see how it goes.

 

The good thing about this morning’s evaluation was having the county case worker there because I got to pick her brain about this case and where things are headed. After her confusing email response to my questions following the planning meeting last month, I had no idea what was happening. She had said not to expect anything to happen at our next permanency hearing, but didn’t really indicate why. She elaborated for me this morning. She has spoken to the little ones bio mom and explained that, although she is doing well now and has recently begun working on what she needs to do, the county has to look at what is best for the kids. She hasn’t seen them since last summer and right now Love Bug is not bonded to her at all. So, given that she still has work to do and the kids have been away from her for so long, the county is pursuing TPR, regardless of her improvements. It’s so sad for her, to think she’s finally doing what she needs to do and it’s just a little too late. The county case worker said she cried when she was told this. The county case worker suggested she try to forge a relationship with me so she could remain a part of the kids’ lives. I really hope she does try to reach out to me, I would welcome her contact and we would work to develop some type of relationship in which she can spend time with the kids, assuming she stays on her current healthy path.  I truly hope this is the case because I would hate to have her totally evaporate from the little ones lives. Poor Love Bug would never remember her and Chica Marie would always wonder what happened to her and where she is now.

 

It was a relief to know the county is actually moving with this case, despite the useless court hearing in May. The county case worker hopes to have TPR before the court date or at the very least, have a date for TPR by then. At least the case seems to be moving, which is better than this stagnant limbo.

My Motivation

Lately I have been thinking about my motivation to write this blog. Why do I do it? I started this blog seven years ago as a different person with a different motivation. I was drowning in the emotional terrors of infertility. I was married and we had been off birth control and actively trying to start a family for a little over two years when I began writing about my feelings and our journey. A year after I began my blog my whole world crumbled around me and I was left trying to put together the broken pieces and heal my broken heart. By this time I had discovered foster parenting and, while some might argue it brought me more pain, it also gave me a purpose. As time began to heal my wounds, I discovered my desire to be a mother was as strong as ever and I decided I would do it alone. I simply didn’t want to wait for a Mr. Right who might never appear. I decided to adopt alone. Paradoxically, I was also actively seeking a mate via on-line dating. Nothing was panning out and the one who came the closest only lasted five months. And so, here we are at present times. I’ve made it to motherhood, through the dark valleys that threatened to ensnare me in the pain of waiting, and I’m still single. I’m in a new territory, in a land I didn’t think I would ever witness and my life has twisted and turned into something I would never had guessed. The people most important to me now were unknown strangers when I began writing this blog. But, my motivation is the same – I write because it helps me sort out some pretty tough feelings. I write because sometimes re-reading my words helps me to understand them better. I write because it is my outlet for the stresses of being a single parent. I could make my blog private and be the sole reader, but there is also a community that comes along with blogging, especially in this infertile/adoptive world. So, I won’t be bullied into cutting everyone off. I will write. This is my story written from my point of view. The opinions are mine alone. I’m not a perfect person and I surely hope my blog doesn’t sound like me trying to act perfect. I’m just a fallible human being like everyone else on this big blue marble. I have faults and bad points and things I would like to change about myself. Many things in fact. But, I have some redeeming qualities as well and every now and again I get something right. My heart is nearly always in the right place, even if my mouth tries to say otherwise. I don’t intentionally try to hurt anyone, but no one is immune to a bad day or poor choice of words. I had hoped that anyone reading this blog would not see it as an opportunity to judge or condemn me, but rather as a glimpse into my inner thoughts on some really tough things. I feel like I have grown A LOT since starting this blog and I hope I will continue to grow. I’m more sinner than saint, more prickly than warm and cuddly, but I do have a good heart that seeks to help when I can. Sometimes I get it right, sometimes I flub it up. To err is human. I’m going to keep writing about the things that happen in my life. If the consequence of that is someone using my words against me, so be it.

Love Hurts

It’s sad that the ones we love the most tend to be the ones who hurt us the worst. Sadly, that’s the down side to love – it can hurt! Love is a beautiful thing, it makes the world a better place. But, when someone learns love in a highly dysfunctional manner, they learn to use it as a weapon. Loving someone means letting them in, letting them see the sides of you that un-loved ones don’t see. Love means being vulnerable. And it is that vulnerability that opens you up to pain when the one you love gets angry or displeased with you. This is when they wield their love like a dangerous two edged sword and stab it deep into the softest part of you where they know it will hurt. This is the place where trust begins to crumble and, if nothing is done to right the wrongs, love begins to die. Before it happened to me, I never understood how someone could be so in love and marry another person only to become bitter, angry rivals when they separate and divorce. Now I understand that it was because the love they had become a weapon they used to slice one another to shreds.

 

Sadly, Primero is dealing with the pain of a loved one hurting him. To him, it registers as loss. It adds to the other losses he has experienced in his life and I think that cuts him deeper than the actual actions being done. Primero held in his heart a hope that his loved one would return to him and things would go back to how they used to be, but just last night he realized the truth – it won’t happen like that. He hurts that his loved one has chosen others over him and he feels pushed to the side – no that sounds too nice - roughly shoved out of the way, tossed to the curb like unwanted refuse. Primero has lived this before with a different loved one and it hurt to watch him go through it then, just as it hurts now. I know there is nothing I can do or say to fix the problem or ease his pain, so I just give him a big hug and tell him I love him. I wish there was more I could do, but really there isn’t. Primero is strong and he is wise beyond his years. He is resilient and resourceful and he knows he has several good people who will always have his back. He knows he is loved and cherished and I hope that will make a difference for him.