Visit

We had a visit with Baby S's parents this morning. This is the first time they've made it in 5 weeks. I was surprised they did because the weather here is icky today. They wanted a visit before Thanksgiving. It is the little one's first Thanksgiving, after all.

These visits are hard and strange for everyone except maybe Baby S. (The elementary age kids coming out of a visit right before us were having to be peeled kicking and crying off of mom. And the teens that went in the room right behind us looked less than apathetic about their visit. I can't imagine doing this with an older kid.) It messed up Baby S's schedule today for sure because she missed a nap and ate lunch late but she will recover soon. She isn't yet stuck in the in between of divided loyalties.

Visits are supposed to be supervised by DFCS staff but so far - with any of the kiddos we've fostered - haven't been. The case worker wasn't there today so I stayed in the room with the three of them. We got to talk about Baby S - how she is eating, sleeping, almost crawling, and what sounds she's making. Its just a strange thing - to know more about a child than the child's mother.

Her parents brought her two new outfits for cold weather. I hope they fit.

Her parents shared a little of what they know from their perspective of what is happening with the case. Its more than we knew but still not much.

There is a court date for December 4th. I am not sure what is to be decided that date. The parents don't have a case plan yet to work. So it won't be to return her to them. Maybe it will be to agree on the plan? Who knows. Dad said he started the process for legitimization so that's something.

They said over and over they were glad she was will good people. So I am glad I come across as "good people." :)

One month

Dear Baby S,

Last week marked one month of your life you’ve spent in our home and the day you turned 8 months old. There are so many things I want to remember about this month. So many things someone should be remembering so you can know one day.

Parker Palmer (who is a pretty cool writer and activist) writes in his book Let Your Life Speak about his granddaughter. He got to spend a lot of time with her as an infant and came to realize that “she did not show up as raw material to be shaped into whatever image the world might want her to take. She arrived with her own gifted form, with the shape of her own sacred soul. Biblical faith calls it the image of God in which we are all created. Thomas Merton calls it true self. Quakers call it the inner light, or ‘that of God’ in every person. The humanist tradition calls it identity and integrity. No matter what you call it, it is a pearl of great price.”

What I want to make sure you know is that baby girl, you’ve got it.

You are almost a totally different baby than you were a month ago – except for your smile. You came to us with that incredible smile. It is contagious. Lots of people have commented that they can’t believe you are so happy considering the circumstances you came from. The only way I can explain it is that it is that inner light thing Parker Palmer talks about. The image of God in which you were created. Your own sacred soul.

This month you’ve made lots of people smile. 

You joined us right before a big important week at my work and your presence made that week better – not more stressed as I was worried. Just having your around is calming. We drove to Washington D.C. for a wedding and you were a champ in the car! Only once were you upset in the whole 30 plus hours of driving. You witnessed two people committing to love each other forever and your presence just added to the love in that place. You got to visit the Natural History Museum, the Holocaust Museum, and see all the monuments on a night tour.

We celebrated your first Halloween at Family Fun Night with our Circles family. You stole the show in your pig outfit. I dressed as a farmer and Bubbie made a tractor out of boxes and dressed as a tractor. We made the back of her car a stable – but you were the best part. By far.

You got to meet friends and family in Macon as we celebrated Bubbie’s 36th birthday. You had your first spend the night party with Sarah and Kristen and made friends with Remi the dog who was sad you weren’t staying to be his puppy forever. You met Parker and Patrick and their mommy who has helped me tremendously these past few months. You met Uncle Jar and Aunt Maggie and made special friends with their new puppy Kazoo. You danced around the Indian restaurant with Raam on the first night of Diwali as we ate our favorite Indian food.

You met the teens of Infusion and were willing to be passed from teenager to teenager smiling all the while (and also trying to grab their noses off)! You sat still as my mom cut your hair (even though that’s against the rules)! Your hair was very long on the sides and not so much in the back in the middle. We just evened it up and promise to give you enough tummy time from now on to not let that happen again! 

You had a blast at Ikea with Aunt Missy picking out a crib and wardrobe for your room. And yes, you even let us become “those people” who had a baby in a bar-ish restaurant at 10 at night. You loved it and laughed and squealed at everyone walking by!

You sat patiently in the high chair as I made a birthday cake remembering my Mimi. You loved the crumbs as much as she did!

We enjoyed a meal with Aunt Missy and her mom and you got to watch Duke Basketball with her while we went to a concert. She also (breaking that rule again) gave you bangs. Then, because we are crazy we left for Valdosta at 10:30 at night. Again – you’re a champ. Sleeping through everything in the car and going right back to sleep in the hotel room. In Valdosta you met lots of United Methodist Women and one said she had been thinking about being a foster parent for a long time but was maybe finally ready after seeing how happy and easy you were.

We celebrated my Mom’s 61^st birthday this month too. You helped (by watching, singing, and dancing) make her a birthday cake too. I love seeing my Mama and Daddy with you. You didn’t like my Daddy  much in the beginning (which is strange because everyone loves Mr. Steve) but I think his beard is becoming less scary to you.

All those places you brought joy. Everyone comments on your smile and laughter. That’s something that comes from deep within who you are and I hope it always stays.

This month you’ve also started moving around a lot more. I have a feeling you’ll be crawling in a matter of days. You’re much more vocal too. You’re making a lot more noise – especially when something else is loud – like the mixer or hair dryer (or Tin Lizzys at 10 o’clock at night). You like to eat everything we’ve given you and are starting to want to eat more! You are a great sleeper – especially in the car – but don’t like to go to sleep when there is anything else happening. You’re not much of a cuddler. You’d rather be up and paying attention to what is going on. Only in the last couple of weeks will you lay your head on our shoulder when you are tired. Your favorite toy right now seems to be the xylophone and your baby comb. You also love jumping in the exersaucer and swaying side to side when music is on.

After one month the most important thing I can tell you is that you are loved. Know that we will keep you safe for as long as you are in our home. Please know that we are trying to work with your Mama and others who are working to see what will be best for you. All these days you won’t remember and might wonder about someday know that you were loved. Cared for. Cuddled. Safe. And bringing joy and delight wherever you go.

Love you Baby Girl,

Meggie

Yep

Yep. Yep. Yep.

This is how I felt about our first two placements for sure.

Saying, “I could never do that” appears to be a socially acceptable thing when one is confronted with foster care. This I have noticed.

God bless ya, folks. I know exactly what you are saying and thinking because I’ve been in your shoes, I’ve been on that side of the issue. But now I’m on the other side of the issue, on the foster parent side, and I want to say a few things.

You could do it.

No really. You could. You really really could.......
(For the rest of the blog article click the link below)

http://www.tredways.org/2013/01/31/i-could-never-do-that/

No news is....???

We've heard nothing about court yesterday and Baby S's parents didn't show for their visit.

It was easy last night to go have dinner with friends at one of our favorite places and forget that the smiling girly that everyone stops to speak to is still in a precarious situation.

It was easy to go home. Easy to have a bath, book, and a bottle.

It was hard though to lay her down in bed (ahem - pack and play) and wonder if that is the last night we will share our little routine.

So we lingered on the couch a little longer. Watched Bubbie working on the computer. Pretended that the baby really cared about the CMAs. Shared some extra snuggles.

If fostering is teaching me anything it is to appreciate everyday. Every moment. Not to take tomorrow for granted.

3 Weeks of Our Third Placement

Reading this post from Megan (who I've only met via facebook, instagram, and her blog but I deeply appreciate) has made me want to write more about how being a foster parent makes me feel. Which is hard because I don't usually like to talk about how I feel. But the last 10 weeks of being a Foster Parent brought with it all kinds of feelings.

Primarily I feel honored (may not be the right word) to be able to be a part of these kiddos life. Most won't remember but all of us are who we are because of people who loved us along the way. Its a scary and sacred thing to be given the responsibility for someone else's child. A life that I had nothing to do with bringing into the world, but I am charged with care of. Its a strange thing. I've made a habit of telling each child at bedtime that I love them. Even the first day. It was strange at first but its true. I do love them. I love them because they are. And because they are in my home. And because everyone needs to hear and feel that they are loved.

I feel SUPER frustrated at how difficult it is to work with the "system." Like Megan writes I too:
see how easy it is for professional child welfare workers to distance themselves from the intense emotion of what they do. I’m not sure how you could really do that job any other way.
But that distance they create out of self-preservation makes it difficult for me to connect with them to get the information I need. I also know that those workers are drastically under-resourced and over-worked. I know that but still. These are little lives. Lives that have already been marked by some drama that got them where they are. It shouldn't be this hard to be helpful.

I feel disheartened when I hear of other foster parents who give and give and love and love and kids are moved unexpectedly or placed with a random cousin because "family comes first" even though kids have been in a stable situation for years with the same foster family. Sometimes what's best for the child is not considered objectively. And it makes foster families feel like they are just a commodity to be used and discarded.

I am encouraged to learn of other families who adopt through the foster care system and create permanent, loving, and stable families.

I am uncomfortable with some people's reactions to learning we are a foster family. We're not heroes. And its not the "most self-sacrificing thing in the world." We're just loving kids that need to be loved. And yes its hard sometimes but its also wonderful. Its not a big deal and not something everyone has to know.

Sometimes I want everyone to know. I've wanted a t-shirt that says "I'm a foster kid" for kiddos. For when they have ridiculous crazy hair and we can't have it cut or crusty heads and we've only had them for 12 hours and three baths haven't been able to get the cradle crap, uh I mean cap off.  Or for when they start screaming at Waffle House or the park that they want their mama and they don't know who these people are. Or for when I'm trying to buy a kiddo shoes/clothes/socks and have to do strange things to measure them because I have no idea what will fit. Or in a restaurant or grocery store when I don't know what they like to eat.

I feel like what we are doing is ministry. Its what Jesus would do. In fact its something often mentioned in scripture - taking care of those who don't have anyone else to take care of them. I can understand how some super-spiritual folks get into this. And how interactions with "the system" would lead people to even further believe that "everything happens for a reason" yada yada yada. Because its something we can't control and we crave an explanation to make us feel better.

But I also feel like sometimes things don't happen for a reason. Sometimes parents are crappy. Sometimes they are ill-equipped. Sometimes they are doing their best and still mess up. But I don't believe that there is a puppeteer God somewhere crafting all of this to happen - especially when kids are harmed - to make some grand plan come about. Sometimes things happen. Horrible things. Wonderful things. Sometimes things work out. Sometimes they don't. What happens after that is up to us. What we make of the things that happen is what we have control over.

Sometimes I feel like a mother. When its 3am and I'm the one swaying and singing. When we're out somewhere and a comment is made assuming I'm the mother. When I'm the one waiting at the doctor's office wondering how much longer we have until hunger/sleepy meltdown ensues. When I'm standing with other parents for pickup at the babysitter's house hearing of the adventures of the day.

Sometimes I don't feel like a mother. When I think about holidays coming and realize I have no idea whether or not there will be a child in my care. When I am looking for pajamas and every set has something about "mommy" or "auntie." Ick. When I realize that literally at any time someone could come and take the baby away. Maybe that's self-preservation on my part. But I don't yet think of myself as a mom.

Today I feel the weight of their stories. I've only known 4 in 10 weeks. I can't imagine the way they would accumulate after months and years. Like Megan wrote:

Their lives require more. Their dignity deserves more. Their humanity demands more.

And so we give it. Because if we don’t give it, they aren’t going to get it. But in the giving of it, we are burdened by their stories.

And the weight is just almost unbearable.

Today is a 10-day hearing for Baby S (even though she's been in our care for 3 weeks). Hearings started at 9am and will go all day. I have no idea what time hers will be. There is a minimal chance the judge sends her home today which would mean her parents will have had to do nothing. This would be crazy. But crazy things happen. I don't think I will be able to breathe until I hear.\

(Yesterday, while recovering from 7 shots, the Future President and I spent some time with the xylophone.)