One Year Anniversary

Today it has been a year. One year ago today Flaco announced he was done. Our marriage was over. He moved out the following Saturday and this began the heartbreaking saga of me losing the baby and enduring this dual loss and all the fall-out for the rest of the year. I’m thankful that I am in a much better emotional state today than I was a year ago. Unfortunately, I remember this day in a very visceral way.

I had the day off from work because Flaco and I were supposed to journey to Hershey to see if we would be accepted into an infertility study on PCOS. Instead, I had spent the night at my parents place and spent the day pacing and feeling miserable in my own skin. I just didn’t know what to do with myself, my anxiety was palpable and surely rubbing off on the baby, despite my efforts not to affect him. I tried to play with him, but I could not concentrate, I tried to force myself to relax but the waves of emotional terror, regret, disappointment, sadness, and anger flooded every fiber of my being. When Flaco came home later in the afternoon, that is when he made his pronouncement of our demise. On the day of love my heart was cruelly shattered, callously crushed and discarded like invaluable garbage. But, for the sake of the baby, my son, I held it together. I marched on each day at a time. Until they took him, simply because I was no longer a “we.” “They” wanted him to be in a two parent household, and as my family worker said “Doesn’t he deserve that?” Perhaps. But, he was doing really good with me, learning new words by the dozens, decreasing the intensity and duration of his mighty temper tantrums, and just generally being an active and happy little boy. And yet, he was once again ripped from what he was accustomed to and placed somewhere else. In my heart, I believe his new parents are as loving and kind as could be and that he is happy. For the sake of my sanity I cannot imagine it any other way.

I’m grateful that I have endured the worse year of my life and that the malice of this world did not crush me beyond repair. I knew I was a strong person, but I have never had a cause to prove it before last year. Now, I know that I know that I know I am a strong person; my strength is gathered through my faith, through the goodness of God, and through the wonderful, caring people around me. Since I began taking in foster children again, I haven’t really felt as lonely. But, when Hurricane Sandy hit and I was lying in my bed listening to the forceful gusts of wind rip through my community and tear at my house, I felt a profound feeling of loneliness. I wished to be cuddled in Flaco’s arms, sharing his warmth and knowing we would be ok together. Cuddling with the cats and dog for warmth was a poor substitute and only compounded my feelings of solitude. Even when I was living in a foreign country, an outcast because of difference in language and culture, I didn’t feel as alone as I did that night. I spent the next night on a friend’s couch, only partially due to not having electricity. Today, I am struggling to not feel bitter. Seeing the exchange of flowers at work, hearing about last-minute Valentine’s Day gifts on the radio and news, and knowing I am alone makes me wish for things to be different. I’ve dabbled in dating but seem to find mostly needy “boys” or men looking for only one “thing.” It makes my stomach churn. And truth be told, Flaco has never really left. He still shows up at least once a week or he texts me or calls me. Generally, I feel like I am in a better place emotionally and don’t feel the need to rush into a relationship, just to have a relationship. But, on days like today, I wish I could be someone’s something – girlfriend, fiancé, wife….. So, I am a little bitter being alone and I’m very bah-humbug when it comes to silly little cupids shooting arrows of love. Prior to being married, I was something of a romantic, now I think I’m a little jaded. So, take your Valentine’s Day and shove it Hallmark. I took the kiddos to the doctor’s today to celebrate business as usual.

Mini Rant

* Warning *

The following is an irrational rant......

I ran into someone I used to know when I took the kids to the doctor last week. She was surprised to see me with two kids and asked who they were. I explained that they were my foster children. Her question? "Do you have any children of your own?"

I have come across this before. I tell someone I (or we) am adopting and they ask about biological children. It pisses me off. I don't want to tell you that I have infertility issues, why can't you just accept that I am adopting a child and be happy for me? Or, could you at least make the logical leap without me spilling my guts? I don't want to watch you cringe as I tell you I'm a flipping infertile loser and why should I have to explain why I am adopting in the first place? I don't walk up to a pregnant woman and ask her why she's not adopting. Of course, adopting as a single woman makes more sense. Although, that is if you know I am single. I don't usually walk around with my "I'm infertile and oh, by the way my husband left" t-shirt on. Anyway, it just pissed me off that this woman didn't even so much as say, "good for you" when I declared my intent to adopt. Why force me to tell you the whole gut-wrenching story? Go stick your nosy face into someone else's business!

End rant.

Discover the Dinosaurs

I can't believe the kids have been with for nearly a month now. I guess time is just flying by! Today we went to see Discover the Dinosaurs which had large robotic dinosaurs, figurines, a place to "dig" up bones, and other child-friendly activities. It was a lot of fun! And a friend from work went along with her daughter, so I had help wrangling the older child. The baby clung to me most of the time and only after we were away from the large dinosaurs did he feel comfortable enough to run around and play. I would say he's a momma's boy, but I'm not his momma - at least not his permanent momma.....

Last night the older child was sent to bed early because she was misbehaving. This gave me and the baby some quality alone time together, which we have never really had. He reminds me so much of my first foster care child that it nearly breaks me heart. And being that I had that baby this same time last year, well it is sometimes a little tough on the heart strings...... While I was giving the baby his bath and watching him splash and play alone in the tub, I couldn't help but think of his future. Unlike other foster care placements I have had, I knew when I took these kids in roughly how long I would have them (although, this has changed). So I knew, going into it, that I could not get attached, that this was only a temporary situation and that before I knew it they would be whisked away to their mother's place and my home would be empty again. So, I concentrated on the here and now with them. Only, when I was watching the baby giggle and smile in the tub, I couldn't help but wonder at what kind of little boy he would be like or if he would still have such a beautiful smile as a sullen teenager. And it made me sad. I get to hold babies and children for a brief moment in time and never get to see the final outcome. I don't get to know how they turn out or what becomes of them 5, 10, 15 years from now. When the baby reaches for me, it melts my heart. He feels safe with me, he knows I will be there to take care of him. Being bounced around as they have, I wonder if he's felt that way often in his short time on earth?

 The older child had a break-through in potty training today. She managed to wear her big girl panties almost the entire day without having an accident. Despite my reservations, she insisted on wearing her big girl panties to the dinosaur exhibit. And she did a fantastic job! No accident at all! She did have an accident when we got home, but did great the rest of the night. This is huge because although we've been trying ever since she moved in with me to kick the pull up habit, it has been a dismal failure. Today, it seemed totally plausible! So, I'm not sure if we will try our luck tomorrow and wear the big girl panties to church. I do want her to be potty trained because she is definitely old enough to not need to be wearing pull ups. So, I guess we shall see!

Extended Duration

So, as it turns out, the kiddos most likely will be sticking around longer than originally assumed. The county case worker came to visit us Saturday morning. She was very happy that I had agreed to take in these kids and at the end, after speaking to me for about 30 minutes, she left asking, “Can we keep you?” She was pleased with what she saw and with my attitude towards the unruly older child. She reiterated the “we are not happy with mom” sentiment and expanded to explain that the older child has other family resources that are actively looking to gain custody of her but paternity is unclear for the baby. She did hint that their stint with me will most likely be longer than the proposed 6-8 weeks but gave no indication of how much longer.

I was explaining the above to my co-worker friend who is also a foster parent with CHOR and has successfully adopted and her response was, “Sometimes things happen like this, you never know. That’s why it’s a good idea to not take on foster care cases when you are thinking of adopting.” It’s not a direct quote, but basically the gist of what she said, the idea being that “my” child will be lost to me because I have these two kids living with me and CHOR will not place another child in my care while they are still with me. It’s easy to think like this and honestly, that is why I wasn’t gung-ho about taking them in when I was originally called. But, I am slowly learning to trust God’s plan and His timing more. It’s something I am sure He has been working on with me this whole time I’ve been dealing with infertility. I have just never wanted to listen. I wanted to figure it all out and make my own plans and have them fit to my timetable. It’s taken me 4 years to reach this point. I’m not frantically thinking that I will miss the baby that is supposed to be mine because I accepted these two little ones into my home. I listened to a heavenly prompting to take these kids in, when it didn’t make sense to my mind, to my plan, to my timetable or my goal. But, there must be some reason that God wanted these two with me. And He is now giving me the grace to be peaceful with my decision to have them, despite the duration of their stay being extended. I have proof of this because I received some news today about the thing I was so vague about before Christmas, the thing that could be a wonderful miracle. I thought it was lost, that it was not meant to be my miracle. Today I found out the initial information was faulty and this “thing” is still waiting in the wings until Spring time. I doubt this makes any sense to anyone other than me, but I know it was meant to be a sign, it was meant for me to realize that God’s plan and His timing is perfect and my job is to not figure things out but just to have faith and believe. For so long I felt like I have been trying to prove to God that I deserve to be a mother. I had this crazy idea that if I stop planning and trying to control an outcome that is out of my control anyway that God would not let me be a mother, He would deny me something that would break my heart and crush my spirit. If I didn’t push God, He would not give me what I want. Luckily, that is not how God works. He said we only need to ask and it shall be given. He didn’t say when or how it would be given, just that it would. So, rather than continually set lines in the sand, mentally creating a finish line with a date and time, I am just resting in the assurance that I will be a mother. I don’t know when. I don’t know how. I know that I am and should be prepared and I know that I should be waiting in hopeful expectation, but I have no deadline, no drop dead date when I have to move on to plan B (or in my case plan W).

The other thing to consider about having the children now is the connection I have made with the county worker. We talked briefly about my time as a foster mother and the failed adoption and how I am once again hoping to adopt, only this time alone. She was flabbergasted when she heard what happened with the first baby I had and she said, “I want you to know our county does not discriminate against single parents.” It made me feel good, like I finally have someone (other than the fabulous case workers at CHOR) in my corner, trying to get “my” baby to me. I really like this county worker (the only other county worker I had such good rapport with was also from this county – when I had the babies in November) and she liked me. I don’t know what God has planned for the future, but I’m sure He designed for this connection to occur. That in and of itself makes me feel like having the kids temporarily is part of a grander plan. I don’t know; it’s not for me to figure out……

No End in Sight

      So, the good news is that the kids and I are settling into a routine together and getting used to one another on a daily basis. The bad news is twofold; one, the honeymoon is over, meaning that the gloves are off and they (especially the older child) feel free to show their true colors and act out and two, what was supposed to be 6-8 weeks seems to be dragging out.

      Generally speaking, when a child is first placed in a home, either for their first time in foster care or when they are moved (as in the case of these two munchkins) they are usually on their best (or better) behavior. Attitudes and issues that might have been prevalent at a previous foster home seem non-existent when they are moved. At first. But, once the child settles in and gets the lay of the land, they begin testing the waters and acting out. The older child I have right now has always been a handful. Even when I had her on just the weekends she could be very defiant and not listen at all. When she first moved here I noticed pretty much the same level of behavioral issues. But, this week they have escalated beyond that into the stratosphere of trying every last ounce of my patience. She has even been rattling the babysitter, who is a seasoned foster mother. The baby is less of an issue but he has these crying jags in the car that nearly cause me to have heart palpitations just because I try to get him to stop. The entire backseat of my car is carpeted in a layer of kix cereal because letting him eat some (and inevitable spill most) is the only thing to keep him from screaming the entire 30 minutes to and from the babysitters. Other than that, he's a peach.

      So, the second issue is one I just found out tonight. The social worker from CHOR came over for a brief visit and I asked her what she knew about their future. She said she had not really heard anything lately, but the only thing she has heard is that the county is not thrilled with their mother. Now, I have limited understanding of this whole case because the kids were just kind of plopped in my lap. My understanding is that whatever cause there was to remove the children is being rectified and they should very soon be able to return to their mother. And this was really the reason that I agreed to take the children, because I was told it would only be for a short while and then I could go back to waiting to be matched with a legal risk child. But, now it looks like what was going to be 6-8 weeks might stretch beyond that. Sure, these things are out of the control of the CHOR case workers because it is in the hands of the county, but it still grates a bit on my nerves because I have different goals now. But, it would be entirely too selfish to ask to have the children moved just because I want to make room for "my" child to be placed with me. So, I have to readjust my thinking on this. I had marked in my calendar when the kids would be with me for 6 weeks and we are half way there. Now, I guess I might be looking at 10 or 12 weeks - who knows, I am only projecting because I was not given any real idea. In fact, the time frame that I was given was not really set by a case worker, it was told to me by the previous foster family. And you know what they say about assumptions..... The case worker from the county is coming out to see us tomorrow morning and I will ask her the same question I asked the CHOR case worker tonight. She might have a better idea, since she is working more closely with the mother.

      Now, the thought has occurred to me, "well, what if they don't go back?" And this is a slight pickle. Perhaps because I am becoming better at the whole detachment thing and because I knew up-front that these kiddos would very soon be going home, I have not gotten quite as attached. Sure, I care about them a whole lot and we have lots of hugs and kisses all around. BUT, to save my poor broken heart (I still cry about the girls from November) I think I am putting up a little inner wall and not letting them get all the way inside. Good or bad, it's the truth. So what I am saying is that I cannot see them as children that might potentially stay with me simply because I have never let myself even fathom it. They are going home, period. And I don't know how hard it would be to transition myself into a different frame of mind altogether. At this point, I think I am still stuck on the fact that I HAD an infant and what I really want is an infant. These two are not infants. But, this is all conjecture at this point. It doesn't even make sense to think about it right now.

      You know, it's funny because after dealing with some of the mom's antics last weekend when the kiddos went for a sleep-over, I was telling another foster mom friend that I was kind of just ready for these kids to be moved home rather than deal with any more issues. And, now it seems I'm in it for the long haul despite my reluctance to get into it at all! Funny how these things work out, right? And, you might be asking, just why did you take these kids if you know your goal is really to adopt? It's a good and very valid question. And it was something that I struggled with when it was first presented to me. Here's the story. I had been asked if I would consider taking them and given a weekend with them to see how things go. The Monday I was supposed to give my decision I was called with a potential legal risk case for two children who were older (like in preschool). I was supposed to meet them at the CHOR Christmas party. Then, before the CHOR Christmas party I got another call for 3 little girls. This placement fell through, the kids never showed up at the Christmas party and I was given a call later to take the two I have now for just a weekend. During the respite call the case worker mentioned still looking for a place for these two kids. I said I would take them for the weekend and we ended the call. But, almost immediately after I hung up the phone, I felt bad for the kids. They are cute kids (of course I think all kids are cute) and I liked having them for the weekends. We got along ok and they had gotten used to me. I just felt a big tug to take them in, despite my misgivings. "Why be selfish?" I thought. It was only for a short time, right? And so I called back and said I would take them. And here we are today. I guess it all sounds a little silly. I don't really regret the decision, at least I have kids in the house again. I just have that longing for "my" child to come home and I worry that I might miss "my" child because I have these two living with me now. I must believe that God has a plan with all of this and that He will be sure "my" child reaches me in one way or another. It just looks like that might be a few more weeks away than I originally had thought.......

Final Decision

So, beginning this weekend, I will be getting a new foster placement. Yes, foster placement, not legal risk placement or adoption placement. I have had these two little kids with me for every weekend since the first weekend in December, minus one. They are sweet kids for the most part, but the girl can be quite a handful. Initially, I was not going to take them because I really want a permanent placement, but I felt bad for their situation and so agreed to take them full-time. They will be with me for a couple of months – or at least that is the case at the moment.

It makes me sad to say this, but I’m not overly excited to be having these kids come stay with me. Perhaps it is just because I am trying very hard to not let myself get too attached to these kids because they will be leaving soon (even though the baby reminds me of the first baby I had as a potential adoption and whom I still feel like he was my son, even if it was only for a few months). It will be interesting having these munchkins because I already know what behavioral issues they are coming with and I have already been trying to get them into a routine when they have been with me on the weekends. But, I will need to be getting up much earlier in the mornings again because I need to take the children to a daycare with another foster family and it is about a 20 minute drive in the opposite direction of my work. But, hopefully, after these little ones I will have my “own” baby come to me…..

The New Year

So, this new year has been interesting thus far. And there have already been some ups and downs as well. My grandfather has been in the hospital since right before Christmas. He was in for a surgery to remove embedded kidney stones and reconnect the urethra from his previous surgery. There have been some serious complications leading to a perforated bowel and a 70% chance of infection which could lead to sepsis. It’s been touch and go ever since his second operation new years eve. This is my dad’s father and really the only grandfather I have known. My mom’s father was not in contact with the family after my grandmother passed away from breast cancer when I was 5. He resurfaced when I was graduating from high school and I see him maybe one or two times a year at different family functions. I don’t call him “Grandpa” or anything, I call him by his first name. My grandfather in the hospital now I call PopPop. He was the only one I let pull my teeth as a child and he pulled every single baby tooth from my mouth and also most of my sisters as well. He taught me to ride a bike, yelling “Peddle, peddle, peddle!” and gently pushing me forward. He used to take us (my brother and I mostly) into the meadow to see a new calf when it was born. He would let us ride along on the wagon when he picked up hay or when he picked corn. Every year for my birthday I had a hay ride party and he would be the one to drive the tractor around the farm with a bunch of screaming girls (and some boys and parents) in the back. I love my grandfather dearly and I have been praying feverishly for his recovery. The worst part is that he is not in a local hospital. He is in Hershey which is over an hour’s drive away. My sister and I did go to see him Christmas day but I have not been able to get back up to see him. When we were leaving Christmas day, he was holding my fingers and squeezing them tightly and he would not let go because he didn’t want us to leave. He could not talk because his throat was sore from the tube they used when he was anesthetized and he had so many other tubes and things stuck to his arms and hands that he couldn’t really hold hands. But, having his family around him comforted him and he didn’t want us to leave him alone. It just broke my heart to gently pry my fingers from his and give him an air kiss (I had the sniffles and was wearing a mask, plus there were too many things on his body to get too close him anyway). My grandfather has always been a hard worker. From sun up to sun down he has worked in the fields, in the barn, or with the animals. He is sometimes seen as gruff by other people but his family knows him to be a big softie on the inside, especially for children and animals. I remember him always bringing some milk and cat food for the ferial barn cats. And I have the funniest memory of him helping me, my siblings, and my father to load our 4-H pigs at a local fair. He was especially friendly with one of the pigs and while he was trying to keep the ones we already loaded on the truck, this pig was yanking on his pants legs wanting him to scratch behind his ears. Then, as he was swatting this pig away, another pig broke loose into the crowd of bystanders (who immediately screamed and scurried away as if the pig were Godzilla) and chased a woman desperately trying to flee up a dirt path with a double stroller. I thought my grandfather would bust a gut laughing! Now, his life hangs in the balance and my heart aches knowing he is in pain and suffering so far away from the home and people he treasures so dearly. I pray for his recovery and for a much anticipated homecoming.

Wednesday night I was in my bedroom doing a brief Bible study and getting ready for bed. It was about quarter after 10 and my home phone rang. No one calls me on my home phone. No one but telemarketers and they can’t call after 9 pm. So, I answered the phone and it was CHOR calling. It was an emergency and could I take in a 12 year old just for the night? Apparently there was a big altercation with her and the foster family and she needed to be removed from their home for the night. I said I could take her and the case worker promised to call me back and let me know what time and where to pick her up. That call did not come until around 11:30 and I did not get home with the very tall and very sullen 12 year old until after midnight. I took her to school yesterday morning and then picked her up again after 7 pm at CHOR. She spent the night with me and tonight will return to her foster family just in time for me to get the two little ones I have had every weekend since November. These two are still slated to be moved to my house, pending the decision of the county. The other foster family has them until the 9^th.

Tonight I will most likely be getting a “new” car. It is an older car but doesn’t have many miles on it and it is below the amount I have to spend, so I will be able to pay cash and not get another car loan. I wish I were getting a nicer, newer car, but having something reliable is fine. It’s a Ford Taurus and I have always hated how those cars look – they are not nearly as cute as my little Dodge Neon was – but it looks like it was well-kept and I will have a little money left over to pay some bills, so that’s not a bad deal. As one might suspect, Flaco has dropped the ball in compensating me for the money I have had to put out for the rental and towing of the old car. And he has not given me the deductible amount either. Raise your hand if your surprised……. I don’t see any hands…… Regardless, I will be ok. If this car lasts me another couple of years I will get my financial stuff together and be able to buy a nicer, newer car. Maybe even something I really like (I want a Honda CRV in the worst way…..)!

I have been able to keep up with two of my new year’s resolutions but have found it difficult to concentrate on the other two. But, I still have hope to work on them and get things going in the right direction for this year. The two resolutions I have been good about keeping are to do some form of physical activity for 30 minutes every day and to keep a house cleaning schedule. On Wednesday I did a yoga routine on YouTube by Jillian Michaels (from the Biggest Loser) and last night I did a different stretching yoga routine that really helped to soothe the muscles that were sore from Jillian’s workout. And, I decided that if I would take just a few minutes every day and clean one room in my house then I would not need to clean furiously every Saturday and Sunday. So, I have a schedule and plan to stick to it to keep things neat and tidy. And, as an added bonus, I can take Sunday’s off entirely! The two delinquent resolutions are to keep track of all my expenditures to get my finances in order and to eat healthier. To be fair, I planned to start the eating healthier part this weekend because I plan to go grocery shopping Saturday morning to get the ingredients I need. Plus, I detest wasting food (partially from how I was raised and partially from my experience in Nicaragua seeing how food is never wasted when it is a precious commodity) and I wanted to finish the leftovers I have. So, it’s a work in progress!