Furever Homes

Thus far, in our dog fostering experience, we have had our very first dog be adopted into a great family, plus two kittens who also found great new forever homes. Our second dog foster ended in what is called a “foster fail,” meaning we failed to allow the dog to be adopted. It’s the total opposite of how things are in child foster care, where the desire is for children to be placed in a home that, if they are not reunified, they can stay permanently. So, we have a new dog, Sherlock (who we sometimes call Bailey). We had a 7 week old puppy, who we named Mabel, but she recently went onto her forever home. The same day we got Mable, we said good-bye to our third foster, Skye. Chica Marie had some difficulty when Mocha (the first dog) and the kittens were adopted, so I decided to take her along. She was close to Skye and it was hard for her to give her up, but seeing the new family and playing with the children and Skye helped Chica Marie process it all. Skye was with her new family for just over two weeks when we were asked to take her back. Her adoptive family thought she was too attached to Chica Marie and that was why she wasn’t getting along in their house. She refused to go potty outside, no matter how long they walked her and she was mean to their cats. I was heartbroken for Skye but could at least offer her familiarity in coming back to our home. She’s been back for a little over a week and she’s doing ok. She loved Mabel, the puppy, but she seems content being back. I want to take her on a walk and see if she does go potty because I don’t know if I believe what the other family was saying. I wonder if she needs to have a canine companion because she loves Sherlock and the puppy and if Prancer (our little Pomeranian/Chihuahua mix) would let her, she would love Prancer too. She is young, just a year old, so she does need training, but I think she is trainable, she wants to please, she loves people. It was hard for Chica Marie, as much as she loved getting Skye back, she struggled with understanding how the adoption could be dissolved. We are still talking about it, bit-by-bit, especially now that her adoption is back on the table. Still, it does give us a framework to talk about her adoption, without talking about her adoption, so I think, in some ways, it is helping us as much as it is helping the dogs. At least, I hope it is. Hopefully, soon Skye will find her forever home. Again.

Embracing My Life

I know I just wrote about this topic a bit ago but it’s such a break-through thing for me, I have more to say. Even though I have been mostly single (with just 3 short-term relationships) since my ex-husband left, I held onto the fantasy that I would meet someone and, biology be damned, we would make a miracle baby. So, I needed to be prepared. I needed to have things ready and available for this invented miracle. In nearly 6 years it hasn’t happened and the likelihood of any pregnancy that doesn’t include advanced medical help, is slim to none – as it has always been. Still, even with the writing on the wall, with my age ever marching forward, I kept the things. Maybe I would get another baby in foster care. Yes, that is a possibility. Only, it really isn’t. But, as we all know, I am not good at letting things go. I’d like to be and I’m doing better with that, but I really get stuck on things sometimes. So, finally being willing to part with the paraphernalia that I have tucked in my basement and closets and under my bed, in hopes of something miraculous happening, well, it’s just a big deal to me. It’s such growth to truly be ok with my life as it is because I have spent nearly a decade fighting the hand I have been dealt in life, refusing to give up the dream of motherhood, and pushing forward even when the path was obscured and treacherous. I don’t regret pushing so hard to be a single mother. I don’t regret my children in any way, rather I’m astounded that I get to be their mom – I mean, how lucky am I to have three beautiful children?

 

When my ex-husband left I was crushed at losing our relationship but, in a more complex way, I was devastated at losing what I called my “chance.” I didn’t want to give up, even if we weren’t using any medical infertility, I wanted to believe there would be some magic that would cause me to fall pregnant. Of course, if I wasn’t in a relationship, not having sex, that possibility was also gone. Somehow, in my twisted mind, being prepared would somehow make the impossible a possibility. You know, if you build it they will come? Yeah, something like that. My greatest fear, at that time in my life, was being alone and childless. I just couldn’t fathom making anything of my life beyond a marriage and children. And that’s pretty sad, but it’s my truth. So, I pushed hard to become a mother, even though it’s been very trying and I really wish I wasn’t doing it alone. My ex-boyfriend and I talked about having a baby and I had to explain to him at least a half-a-dozen times why it was not very likely I could ever have a child, let alone conceive without expensive medical assistance. I wished he would just google PCOS, but instead I spent a good deal of time explaining how it affects me and why it means I can’t just get pregnant with lots of sex.

 

I thought I might be willing to discard or gift the things I used for Love Bug, but having him grow out of things only made me hold onto them more tightly. Partly because I wished I had been more present when he was tiny. He was a tough baby and didn’t sleep much, so my sleep deprivation was at partial fault but really, the biggest obstacle I had to throwing my whole heart into loving Love Bug was the uncertainty of his place in my life. He was a foster baby and while I loved him, I had to keep a portion of my heart safe lest he be taken away from me, like other baby’s had been. I think back now, knowing he isn’t going anywhere, and wish I had let myself wholly love him. Maybe he sensed my hesitation and that’s why he’s so attached to me now? I don’t know, but thinking that Love Bug would be my only child that I got to feed a bottle and bathe in a baby tub, it made me feel like I needed to hang onto all of it more, to not let go of things. But, that isn’t really healthy, so I’ve got to let it go.

 

So, I’ve come a long way to now be ready to part with the things I so painstakingly collected and stashed for my imaginary baby. I’m not saying I won’t cry as I pack it all up for a baby that isn’t mine, but I’m hoping it will end up being freeing and cathartic to get it all out of my house. No more waiting for an imaginary, possibly impossible baby. It may have taken me longer than I might have liked, but I’m now ready to embrace and live the life I have instead of the one I wanted before infertility changed my plans.  

Infertility Never Goes Away

I think, somewhere in the dark unreachable recesses of my mind, I thought infertility would go away once I became a mother. Not that I would become fertile, but that the unfairness, the raw emotions of not being able to conceive and bare life, it would somehow lessen when children started calling me Mommy. I see now how hopefully naïve that unconscious thought was because infertility never really goes away. It does lessen with time, the sharp sting of a pregnancy announcement loses its burn after a few minutes or hours, not days or weeks like before. But, the barb is still there, the sting is still felt, even if the recovery happens more rapidly. I was recently reminded the sharp contrast between the fertile and infertile world. I had been referred to the Weight Management clinic by my family doctor and had been attending nutrition classes. As a cap-off to the nutrition classes, I was scheduled to meet with a dietician to talk about my specific nutrition needs. We talked about how hard it is to get in work-out time with little kids and a busy life. At one point, after talking about trying to squeeze in work-out time on the weekends, she mentioned this is just the season of life I am in and soon the little ones would be independent teenagers and I would forget all about life with young children. “It’s like child birth,” she said and I felt just as if the words had slapped me across the face. Of course she thinks my children are my biological children, it is the default assumption. But, having never experienced child birth, I cannot compare anything to it and that realization and recognizing that in conversing about children with strangers I will always have to debate on whether or not to “out” myself or just let them think what they think. In this case, I opened my mouth but then quickly shut it and I didn’t tell her I could not compare anything to child birth, having never experienced it myself. I probably won’t see her again, even if I decide to take the weight loss meds, so she doesn’t need to understand I don’t fit into the default setting of conception, birth, motherhood. Infertility is and always will be a part of my life, I cannot control when or how it will sneak up on me. But, I can control how I react and my hope is I can react like I did this morning; I heard it, the words hit me, but then I shrugged them off because the fertile world does not see the infertile and I don’t have to be their introduction to reality. I can choose to not out myself and just go on with my day. I imagine, if I had been able to have a biological child, I would struggle immensely with not telling everyone the baby was a verifiable miracle because I wasn’t able to have children. Infertility never goes away, you just get wiser in not letting it control your life.

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Walking on Sunshine

I have good news coming out of the woodwork this week and I’m giddy like a school girl in a candy store! My heavens, I was so READY for this! Yes, yes, yes! You know, sometimes you don’t know how down you are because you just keep putting one foot in front of the other. That is, until the clouds break and suddenly you are bathed in warm, intense, bright sunlight, just a sparkling beam of goodness. And, bathed in that sunny euphoria, beaming from ear to ear just letting the good feelings wash over you! It’s been a long time coming, this real good feeling!

 

Let me start with the news that the county is ready to finalize the adoption for BOTH Love Bug and Chica Marie. Like totally, just-need-a-date, ready. Can I get an AMEN?! Wednesday night the CHOR case worker, the county case worker and our two new Family Based therapists were over at the house. It was chaotic, as it usually is with the 4 dogs (oh, yeah Skye’s adoption failed and she came back Monday night) and the kids. I was busy trying to keep the kids calm and occupied while making dinner and Primero always has to try to have an important (to him) conversation with me when case workers are over, so I was semi-distracted, but I did hear the county case worker announce she is ready for us to get a date for adoption and I had to scrape my chin off the ground. Lots of other conversations were going on, but I held on to that wonderful news. And, she notified me a few days after the meeting to approve the adoption stipend, which will stay at the same level it is now, so more good news!

 

I know I reported just breaking up with my boyfriend and the strange text conversation we had a few days afterwards. I hemmed and hawed about breaking up with him for some time, mostly because there wasn’t anything wrong with our relationship, I just wasn’t feeling “those” feelings. Even after the awkward messages, when I realized he was already out looking for someone else, I felt a little bad about ending it. Thursday night I met a friend for drinks and there has been an attraction between us previously, but we were both married to different people. Well, that (sadly) isn’t the case anymore and the chemistry I knew was lacking in my last relationship is magnetically strong between us. We had a wonderful time and plan on seeing one another again. It just hit home how different things are when you have a connection because I came home laughing, thinking of him and when we would see one another again. Such a stark contrast between what I just ended! I felt like I had to force myself to do everything, but with this new guy there’s no need; I genuinely enjoyed our time together and can’t wait to spend more time with him. And, I know there’s baggage (he has three kids and I know his wife) and things might be complicated, so I’m not rushing into anything serious. It’s just nice to know what it’s like to enjoy seeing someone. It’s nice to know it’s possible because for too long, I really thought it wasn’t a possibility for me.

 

I know all good things must come to an end, so this good-feeling sunshine might not last, but I plan on enjoying it and soaking in every single ray while it lasts!

Pay It Forward

I’ve written before about my hoarding tendencies. I spent most of last year purging the house, yet the end results don’t really feel that different other than there are a few shoes I donated that I am now missing. But, I still have a lot of baby things that we are not using but storing and taking up space that could be used for other things or just to give us more breathing space in our cramped quarters. Esperanza has a friend who is 6 months pregnant and has nothing, not a thing, for the baby. So, I’ve entered an internal war with myself to part with the things we are not using. I have two pack-n-plays because I bought one and someone gave me one. I don’t need one, let alone two. I have bottles (the nipples should be replaced), clothing, a high chair, bouncy chair, swing, and baby bath all collecting dust in my basement. Why not give it away to someone who could really use it? Esperanza’s friend is not working and her mother only gets SSI. The baby’s father is not helping. It’s not a good situation and the things I’m hanging onto for purely selfish and emotional reasons could make a difference to this young mother. So, I’m trying to make peace with giving up the things I’ve been holding onto. It felt like I waited a long time to use the items I slowly collected and now they are right back into storage.

 

I think my problem is irrational thinking. I have it in my head I’m still a foster parent and so I need things at the ready, but in reality I am not a waiting foster parent. I haven’t spoken to anyone at CHOR about after adoption because I’m sort of fearful, if I’m totally honest. Foster care has been my thing, the thing I’ve been focusing on since my divorce, the thing I’ve found to be both incredibly difficult and incredibly rewarding. We’ve been doing doggie foster care since May, but it’s not the same, not at all. So, I suppose it’s time to face this thing and start preparing for the next chapter of my life. I don’t really want to stop fostering, but for the moment I think I will have to based on space requirements. At some point in the future I think I might start again, but there’s no reason to keep so many baby items for that prospective future time. I just need to do this quickly before I lose my resolve.

Momma's Boy

I was talking to our adoption case worker about my worries that Love Bug was too stuck on me. He still seems so needy; needing my attention, cuddling, coddling, and just needing his momma. I worried he was not acting in a developmentally on-target sort of way. The adoption case worker laughed and said, “that’s just how boys are with their moms.” Well, clearly not all boys. I mean, Primero wasn’t a baby when he moved in, so I can’t gauge by him. He did enjoy laying on my lap, asking me to play with his hair, when he was younger. He used to snuggle with me more than he does now, but he still hugs me most nights before going to bed, so there’s that. My own brother wasn’t much of a momma’s boy. But, since I was a child (and a daddy’s girl) I can’t really rely on my own memory. It’s something I will have to remember to ask my mom. Chica Marie likes to cuddle, she likes to snuggle, but she doesn’t have an absolute break-down if I cannot pick her up and nuzzle her into my neck the way Love Bug does. I feared I was spoiling him or babying him too much. He is just super-attached to me, looking for me every day at daycare, crying for me when he isn’t feeling good in normal ways but also needing to sleep with me, touching me. The case worker assured me he is just a momma’s boy and eventually I will miss the cuddles and snuggles, but if he’s like her son, he’ll still be ok with cuddling well into his teen years. I mean, I’m not gonna lie, that sounds pretty awesome. I’d take some Primero snuggling and he’s 18, so I guess a momma always wants to cuddle her kids. I joke that Love Bug will be sleeping with me until he’s in his 30’s but there might be some truth to that!

Breaking-up Is Hard to Do

I swear there are times when things happen and I just can’t imagine them happening to someone else. Here’s the story. I broke up with my boyfriend over the weekend. We didn’t have a fight, nothing major happened, I just didn’t see our relationship going anywhere. A spark was missing. I kept thinking it would happen, the chemistry would eventually show up, but after nearly 6 months it still hadn’t and when I forced myself to consider the future I knew I wasn’t happy. So, I ended it. He was not pleased. Not at all. See, he saw things differently than I did. He was really into me and thought things were going well. I didn’t. I felt he was very closed off and couldn’t give me what I needed emotionally. I think I knew this was coming months ago but I kept pushing forward, thinking that spark would just pop out of nowhere.

 

I felt bad breaking up with him, really I did, he was a nice guy, decent, good to me. I spent most of the next day second-guessing myself. Then, the very next day (so two days after breaking up) I get a random message on my phone from a number I don’t know. It was some guy I had apparently dated (back when I was in the online dating circuit) and he was trying to reconnect. We chatted a bit before he asked for a picture of me, to see if I was the same person he remembered. He sent me a picture and would you believe it was the very same boyfriend I broke up with two days ago?!?! Seriously! I felt sick to my stomach. He kept talking to me, sending me a picture of the woman he thought I was (it wasn’t me). So, I had to out myself and tell him who I was. I sent him the only picture we had taken together. He was angry, again, and said things that made me glad I broke up with him. It was crazy. How do these things happen to me, honestly!

 

So, I’m single again and trying not to freak out about being alone. I know being alone is better than being miserable with someone. I’ve made a vow to get out more and do more adult things that might allow me to meet someone more organically than online dating. Online dating just doesn’t work for me, I can’t really tell if I have any chemistry with anyone and spend way too much time weeding out the freaks and sex fiends. I guess if I’m meant to be with someone it will have to happen in a way I don’t yet know. And that is so f-ing scary! Fate has not been a kind mistress to me, so it seems a fool’s errand to let meeting a special someone up to her maniacal means, but I think it’s the only way for me. Gulp!