We Can Just Get One Of Those Vans

Maria and the Fab Four came to visit us last weekend. The visit was a surprise from Maria for passing her driver's license test. (And if you don't believe people can change read this post here about how upset I was that she drove the kids without a license.) I was so excited for her. I had thrown something in the crock pot so dinner was almost ready when we all arrived.  All the kids were busy checking out the house and all the adults were putting the finishing touches on the dinner.  I love that Maria is comfortable enough to jump in and help. Then we all gathered around the table, all 11 of us and shared a meal.  We laughed and joked and caught up about what was new.

Then Maria started to talk about getting the kids baptized.  She then asked if Herbie and I had been confirmed in the Catholic Church. When we answered yes, she said:

I want to know if you would be willing to be my children's God Parents.  I want someone who will keep them, all four together if something happens to me.

I honestly started to cry. This woman was choosing us to be a part of her children's lives forever. We of course said yes.  It is a serious commitment because unlike our other Godchildren, Maria doesn't have any other family that would take the kids if something happened to her.  This wasn't just a religious request, it was a life planning one.  In our state Godparents have kinship status and have standing to be able to take guardianship of their Godchildren if parents are unable.

As we were going to sleep Hubby asked me where we would put eight children. I said we have a spare bedroom and an office, we would figure it out. 

Then he said: I guess we can always get one of those big vans to drive everyone around....

I never would have pictured that our foster care story would have this chapter.  It makes all of the stress and heartache so worth it.

Aside from being asked to be their Godparents, Gabby also said something really spectacular.  She had a lengthy conversation with Hubby where she told him, he was the only person she considered her father because he's the only one that has ever been there for him.  It was a really special moment. Even when it seems like you aren't making a difference, you really are.
 

My Own Trigger

I have a few posts on pause because I deemed them simply too sad for the week of Thanksgiving. Wednesday morning as I dropped the kids off and still couldn't shake the urge to cry I realized that perhaps, I was experiencing my own trauma anniversary. Which makes sense. My Grandma passed the day before Thanksgiving two years ago and I miss her terribly.

Today is the actual anniversary date and I'm handling it fairly well. I think for me the day before Thanksgiving is my trigger. I was a mess. I volunteered to make the turkey at her house and spend the night to keep my grandfather company. And as I was opening every drawer in her kitchen, trying to familiarize myself with the location of everything, I prayed that I could recall the lessons she taught me about her secret to amazing stuffing. Then I had to laugh because at 31 it was really the first time I was allowed in the kitchen while cooking was going on and no one was telling me to move.

It did a little introspection. I checked in with my emotions and feelings and I think the one I'm feeling the most is anger.  I'm angry that I'm still grieving. I'm angry that I'm preparing myself to grieve more when the kids go home. I was even angry at mass on Thanksgiving. A couple got up to talk about what they were grateful for and the spoke about adoption. The thanked God for giving them the means to adopt internationally, then have biological children, and now are bring another child home through adoption. Then I was angry at myself for being angry that God was seemingly providing for them and not me.

And I'm letting the little things make me angry. Like the fact that the kids Mom wasn't home on Wednesday when they kids showed up for the visit. And that after 30 minutes of driving around her town they brought the kids back to daycare ( 45 minutes each way) and then picked them up ten minutes later when they finally got a hold of her and drove them back to her house. I'm angry about her new iPhone 5 (because I'm sorry if the court changes your permanency goal just so you can qualify for a housing grant I don't think that means you should be out buying the latest technology in smart phones). I'm angry that she bought Little Mama very expensive fashion sneakers when Mr. Mohawk and Jelly Bean actually need every day shoes. I'm angry that I'm being judgemental and petty. I'm angry that the kids are still having nightmares and wetting the bed and throwing up on days they see her and I'm angry that it doesn't matter.

So I did what I do best when I get angry -  I cleaned. I organized. I shampooed my carpets. Then I got a little creative and painted the kids' Christmas ornaments. Because sometimes I just need to get crafty.

If I'm working through the stages of grief, I believe bargaining is next.

Sometimes, You Need Your Mom

Thirty one year old women are no exception. After a very, very trying week where everyone took a piece out of me I reached my breaking point. And at lunchtime I called my Mom.

I really just needed a hug. The warmth if her cheek next to mine. Hands rubbing my back, reassuring me that I was not alone. I needed encouragement that I was doing good. That I was serving a purpose. That this feeling of unbelievable helplessness would go away at some point.

She was nearby my office and her and my Dad met me for lunch. The minute I pulled into the parking lot and I spotted them I started to cry. It was like a dam broke loose. All of the feelings came pouring out. The fear right at the very front.

I'm watching everyone around me start to break apart and close off and I don't have the luxury of doing that. I'm not built that way.

After listening to my Dad telling me I have to approach it simply and understand the kids are going home and remind me that no one would blame me if I decide to move on without them because "you've done a thousand times more what most people do"and my Mom tell me I'm a much better person than her for my commitment to not vilify the kids' Mom, I felt a little stronger. But still I was questioning all of the decisions we've made.

My Mom, in her infinite wisdom, reminded me to rely on my faith and listed all the people praying for our family. She suggested I "go back to church". Even if to "just sit in the building and meditate."

Feeling that perhaps that would help, I decided first to journal and soul search. I had no intention of blogging it because I felt that this would be a personal moment just for me. However sometimes you have to share how God works.

I have a Devotional Journal that has daily writing prompts, scriptures, and poems. I never keep up with daily journaling on paper. So I've used this journal on and off for 9 years. I only write a few sentences and leave space in case I happen upon the same date in the future.

September 28th was blank. The page was titled: It Can't Be Done.

The passage was Galatians 6:9:
Let us not grow weary while doing good, for in due season we shall reap if we do not lose heart.

God's way of telling me not to give up. To give it some more time. Acknowledging that I feel weary. Everything I needed to hear so that I can continue on.

Nicely done God. Nicely done.

Hear my Heart

Lord, please help me? Please give me the strength to keep going. To  remain patient. To stop yelling. To be calm. Help me figure out how not to be frustrated by homework and projects and socks on the floor.  To ignore the bickering.

I would love to have this knot in my neck go away. And the fear in my stomach to disappear. Because as tired and sad as I sometimes am, the thought of not having those feelings is worse. Way worse. How long can we hold out? How long can we all carry on like this? In limbo. In wait and see. In permission and appointments and visits. And behaviors after visits and cancelled appointments. In between court dates and case reviews and updates.In asking others if, how, when we can live our life.

When CAN we live our life? When CAN we know if they can plan for next year? If we can plan for next year, next time. Someday.  Have we made a difference? Can we make a difference. Is it enough? Should there be more?

I am enough. I have to be.

 

It takes a village....

I don't often blog about my faith or God.  I feel other people write theirs much more eloquently than I could at the moment.  I'm in the middle of a change in my views on organized religion and I prefer to keep that to myself.  That being said when I feel something speak to me I will share. 

My Grandfather is a deeply religious man.  I can remember being little and watching him pray the Rosary in a corner chair in the middle of the afternoon.  When I was in college and would call him for advice he would always tell me to pray about it.

When I got sick and was in the midst of my deep, dark hole of depression he sent me a subscription to The Daily Word.  Its a prayer book of daily meditations and scripture.  It has been an amazing source of support through the years.

Yesterday as I was pondering what topic to write about today (while waiting for some Panda Panda to be ready (Mr. Mohawk's name for Panda Express)) I pulled my Daily Word out of my purse.  This was the entry for today:

Daily Word

 

Thursday, May 03, 2012

 

Pray for Others

I reach out in prayer to support and encourage others.

It has been said that "it takes a village to raise a child." We all benefit when we assist and support one another. I am fulfilled as I give from my heart the gifts of my time, talent and treasure, and as I support others through the power of affirmative prayer. When I pray for others, I reach out in faith and enfold them in love.
We are one in Spirit with each other, for we are all children of God. As I pray for others, I tap into our spiritual connection that joins us heart and mind. Through prayer, I am part of a "village" of people who spiritually support one another. Every time I pray, every time I give my love and encouragement, I am more aware of the living Christ Presence within us all.

 

This is my commandment, that you love one another as I have loved you.--John 15:12

 

So tonight I pray for those of you making up our village.  Thank you for your supportive comments and emails. For your positive thoughts and for checking in on us.  I pray that you are supportive in your village and with your children.

 

Love is a Four Letter Word

Driving from work to daycare to a doctors appointment tonight (we have pink eye and an ear infection and the stomach flu at our house this week) I heard this song. It brought tears to my eyes. I've been looking for a way to verbalized my feelings lately and this song lays some of them out there perfectly.




"I Won't Give Up" By Jason Mraz

Hmmmm ... Hmmmm ... Hmmmm ... Hmmm ...

When I look into your eyes
It's like watching the night sky
Or a beautiful sunrise
There's so much they hold
And just like them old stars
I see that you've come so far
To be right where you are
How old is your soul?

I won't give up on us
Even if the skies get rough
I'm giving you all my love
I'm still looking up

And when you're needing your space
To do some navigating
I'll be here patiently waiting
To see what you find

'Cause even the stars they burn
Some even fall to the earth
We've got a lot to learn
God knows we're worth it
No, I won't give up

I don't wanna be someone who walks away so easily
I'm here to stay and make the difference that I can make
Our differences they do a lot to teach us how to use
The tools and gifts we got yeah, we got a lot at stake
And in the end, you're still my friend at least we did intend
For us to work we didn't break, we didn't burn
We had to learn how to bend without the world caving in
I had to learn what I've got, and what I'm not
And who I am

I won't give up on us
Even if the skies get rough
I'm giving you all my love
I'm still looking up
Still looking up.

I won't give up on us (no I'm not giving up)
God knows I'm tough enough (I am tough, I am loved)
We've got a lot to learn (we're alive, we are loved)
God knows we're worth it (and we're worth it)

I won't give up on us
Even if the skies get rough
I'm giving you all my love
I'm still looking up

This song is on the album, Love is a Four Letter Word.

My oh my, do parents of traumatized children understand that statement.  Love is such a foreign concept to our kids that it is a negative. So many of them were told they were loved while awful, rotten, unimaginable things were done to them. Some were never held or told they were loved. Love is evil for kids who have experienced trauma. It is not to be trusted. Nor should you trust those people who might actually show you what real love can be like for they too will disappoint and hurt you with it. 

I'm sure the artist chose the title because so often romantic love can be painful.  So can the love between a parent and a child.  Surely, this kind of pain is nothing compared to the actual trauma our children experience but recovering from that trauma and being the person leading them through it is hard, lonely work. Often feeling impossible to do together because the goal of healing for the parent is often at odds with the goal of survival that our children have.  In order to SURVIVE they must not feel love.  And they will do everything they can to make sure you know that your "love" will not hurt them.  

My kids have trauma in their past. Some more than others.  I understand that my kids' behaviors would be considered mild compared to a lot of other kids in foster care.  I'm not into comparing this sort of thing but I mention it to recognize that a lot of other families are dealing with much tougher stuff than we are.  And I'm grateful that those families are willing to be open and honest with their struggles as it allows me to keep looking up and see how far they've come. Because they have not given up.  They have given their love. And their kids have learned to trust it. To believe in it.
This song has become an affirmation to me.  Of how I want to approach this journey on a daily basis.  That on days that I've listened to the 45th minute of screaming rage, handed the 10th time out, refereed the 15th tattling, answered the 100th nonsense question, and doled out the 14th consequence I have something to hold onto.  Because I haven't given up.  Though Lord know I've asked myself if I should.  And the answer back is always a resounding No. Because we're worth it. Because we are an US.  We are a family.  We have love.  It may not always look like the love of other families but its there. 

I am here to stay and make the difference I can make.  After 5 other families tried to do the same thing.  My kids really need to BELIEVE that I won't give up.  Especially when things get rough. The only way to do this is by proving it. Showing up time and time again.  Staying patient.  Giving them their space when they need it. We DO have a lot at stake. We have an opportunity to break a cycle of abuse that has lasted generations.  We have an opportunity to heal hurt inflicted over years. We have the ability to model for four children what health relationships look like so that they can go forward armed with this information for adulthood.  We have the time to be able to make education a priority and college a possibility for four children who had never finished one year in the same school.We have the ability to teach what LOVE is. What it should be.  I am tough enough. I am tough.  I am enough. On days that I question this I look back and see the strides we've made where others failed.  We haven't broken and the world has not caved in even though there were times I was sure it would. Like the day I had to admit Jelly Bean to the hospital or the day Little Mama was triggered and dissociated, and the day that I figured out Gabby was throwing up at visits due to anxiety, and the day of the worst migraine of my life.  We fought through it.  We got up the next day and the next.  And we are stronger for it.  Because I won't give up on us.  I'm giving them all my love.  E.V.E.R.Y. D.A.Y. Even days that I feel beaten down.  Especially on days that they reject my love and me.  Because that is how I know its working. 

Waiting for the Phone to Ring

Well we finished our 2nd home inspection last week. Any day now we should get our license in the mail and even before it comes we may start to get calls. I am excited about where this journey may take us but I'm also bracing myself for the very real and very hard emotions that I know will come with it.

I've had a series of life changing "phone calls" in the last few months and I wouldn't put a single one in the positive category. The middle of the night phone call that my Grandmother passed. The text that my husbands estranged Grandmother passed. The Facebook alert that our family was not being considered for the baby girl being placed for adoption. The voicemail that my Grandmother's brother died of a heart attack last Saturday. So the fact that any day now my phone may ring and someone will be wanting to know if I'd like to take children into my home that may or may not stay, that may or may not have MAJOR issues, that may or may not become my children, that WILL be angry, hurt, confused, and scared has me just a tiny bit nervous.

Now don't get me wrong I understand that I signed up for this. This has been six months in the making. We have completed 27 hours of classes and filled out sheets and sheets of paperwork. And I have tried to prepare and educate myself as much as I could about what to expect. But that's the thing. No one can tell you XYZ are coming and you'll need to do ABC for them... And whether or not we get a placement depends on how far up the list we are or who else answers their phone. Or if I answer my phone which is something my husband was quick to point out to me.

Its this whole unknown piece that has me unnerved and I think a part of that is because I've been in this place of unknown for a while. Yeah yeah yeah - life is a mystery no one can know the future, yadda, yadda, yadda but I was in a place where I was fairly comfortable and confident in my world. Things made sense to me. I wasn't getting knocked out every other month by some new tragedy or challenge. The phone wasn't ringing to tell me people I loved were dead or that I needed to tell someone else that they loved was dead. I had a job I loved and was good at with people I ::Gasp::: LIKED. I wasn't going to doctor after doctor to be told that my condition was not responding to treatment or that at the moment pregnancy isn't possible. And of course I wasn't turning 30 then and wondering how my family was going to look in the next 5 years. And yet I signed up to become a foster parent to invite more unknown in??!!

Yes. Completely resolved, unequivocally yes. Because I have the family and love to give children who need a home and love and support for a little while or for forever. And because I know better than to second guess God's plan or pull. And while I may not understand that plan I can follow it the best way I know how. And apparently that means waiting for the phone to ring.

If I'm being honest

I was really anxious all weekend. My husband had driven th 19 hours to pay his last respects to his Grandmother and my niece was with me from Thursday through Sunday. Friday night my friends sent me a picture of the baby. She is adorable. And I cried.

Maybe I knew that I would not get to meet her. Maybe I knew she was meant for a different family. Maybe I was a tiny bit relieved that our world would not be thrown to the wind with another phone call telling us we were wanted.

And my niece was standing there and she just hugged me. And I really needed it because what I really wanted was my husband. Someone who wants the same thing and can soothe me and remind me of my own words that God has a plan. He does. No really, He does. I looked into my nieces eyes and told her she was too young to have all the adults in her life cry all the time and we both laughed. We headed to dinner and had a really grown up conversation about adoption and foster care.

She wanted me to explain why it was "fair" that people who couldn't take care of their children could get them back. Ahh the famous black and white judgement of the young. Not experienced enough in life to understand the many shades of grey. Then she wanted to know why we only opened our license up to 13. "What you don't like teenagers?" Of course and we love several of them including you. Which of course led to some pretty good conversation about her going to high school and my secret to staying out of trouble. (Don't hang out with those who start the trouble. Guilty by associating is still guilty.)

And when the phone didn't ring the rest of the weekend I knew it was time to let go. And when my husband and I were finally in the same house hugged him like my life depended on it. And I had a moment where I just lost my cool exterior of just going about my life. I was really sad. And though I have NEVER been the kind of person to worry about what everyone else was doing I was actually feeling slightly bothered by the fact that all of my friends that I talk to regularly are expecting. I don't know if I feel left out or left behind or if its just this continued unknown of what placements we'll get called about or if we'll ever get to try to have biologic children but I actually had a moment where through tears I expressed this to my husband.

His reaction? Actually perfect. He was the right amount understanding and reasonable. He asked me if we were in a competition he didn't know about and reminded me that I'm not usually like that. He asked me if I like our life - which of course echoed a very similar thought I had had earlier in the day while scrapbooking some pretty amazing moments in our lives. And then I felt very lucky because I have him. And somedays thats all that matters.

Baby Girl

A baby girl was born yesterday. She is healthy. Her mother is healthy. And she has not yet chosen an adoptive family. And even though I was told she had chosen to go with an agency I can't help but hold onto a little glimmer that maybe she'll change her mind about our situation and ask me to meet her. But my brain tells me its silly and it would just be opening up my heart to get broken even further.

I prayed last night for a long time. A long prayer that allowed for every situation. For some sort of sign or signal so that I could go whatever direction I'm supposed to so that I can stop being on edge. To be hopeful and excited at becoming a mother or let go of that hope and just move forward towards foster parenting.

I woke up to a text message from my husband's cousin. His grandmother passed away. The one he hadn't talked to in 11 years. And now he is on his way to Florida with his sisters and I will be responsible for my teenage niece for the weekend.

Is this is a sign? And if so what kind of sign is that? If possible I'm even more on edge.

So I'm praying. Praying for those families in wait. Those families in grief. Praying that I'm following teh Lord's plan for me.

There is nothing quite as crushing as the weight of grief when it comes fallling down upon you. Sometimes it leaves you flattened. Unable to move, to stand up, or to keep going. Other times it propells you in directions you would not have imagined. The day before Thanksgiving at 1:30 AM I was struck with the news that my Grandma had passed. My Mother's words on the other end of the phone were clear but my brain could not understand. And in just a few minutes my world went from peaceful slumber to restless shock. For hours I sobbed not knowing how to process the ache in my heart. I was glad she was not suffering. I was angry she didn't get one last Thanksgiving with her family all together. And scared because I knew that there were many moments still to come in my life in which I would need her wisdom and I wouldn't hear it directly.

Then she hit me. Like Literally. I was digging in a trunk of pictures and scrapbooking supplies and the top of the trunk came crashing onto the back of my head. The thought "finish this for me" hitting me instantly.

Then the day before the wake I got a phone call from a friend. His cousin was in college and pregnant and had decided on adoption. Were we still interested? And as bad as it sounds the only reason we wouldn't be is because we were not sure about affording day care. I told him that yes we would like to meet her. She was having a girl and due in January. I told my husband the good news. He was upset. Why would we want to get our hopes up if we financially can't do this? And I told him I couldn't explain to him logically the reason behind it but my heart was telling me that we needed to seek this further. To not close the door until we had too. Besides she might not even like us.

Then I got a call about a job interview. And at the wake the next day my cousin came. My cousin with the adoption story. She had just been discussing taking in children during the day to supplement their income. One of my favorite Bible passages is from Matthew. Ask and you shall receive, Seek and you shall find, Knock and the door shall be opened. And it seemed like the door was being opened at least to the possibility that this child could become ours. And even though my husband does not often discuss his faith - He agreed that he felt like it was Grandma up there opening the door propelling us in a different direction. And we agreed that if we did adopt this baby we would name her after Grandma. And if God's plan is different it will at least have enabled us to hope at a time when it would be easy to be stuck in doubt and sadness.