The birthmom changed her mind. She's keeping the baby.
When I found out Friday night that the baby would be here so quickly, I took a MAJOR emotional step backwards from the situation. I just didn't see a way, logistically, for all of the legal stuff to fall into place between now and "then".
So I wasn't upset when I got the call this afternoon. O is actually more disappointed than I am.
Oh well, one strike doesn't mean we're out. Onward to the future, which will include a call to our worker in the monring letting her know that we're jumping into the foster care mix - ages three and under, preferably one child but we'll consider two. We'll do this only with the understanding that if the adoptive situation we are discussing works out, we'll have the opportunity to pursue that and any others that may come along.
Sunday, November 22, 2009
Saturday, November 21, 2009
Make That a Fast Ball
The baby?
Due in one week.
If he/she comes early, I have no idea how that would work. We will probably have to wait till Monday at the earliest to even start getting paperwork drawn up, and we can't take a child from the hospital who we don't have legal custody of. We couldn't make medical decisions for that child, and couldn't cover him or her under our insurance. That would be a recipe for disaster.
So, I wait for more information and hope that somehow this can all work out logistically.
Crap my brain is tired. And it's only 4:46am.
Due in one week.
If he/she comes early, I have no idea how that would work. We will probably have to wait till Monday at the earliest to even start getting paperwork drawn up, and we can't take a child from the hospital who we don't have legal custody of. We couldn't make medical decisions for that child, and couldn't cover him or her under our insurance. That would be a recipe for disaster.
So, I wait for more information and hope that somehow this can all work out logistically.
Crap my brain is tired. And it's only 4:46am.
Friday, November 20, 2009
Curve Ball, Left Field
When you're looking to add to your family through adoption, it's not unusual to find yourself in the following conversation, or some version of it:
Other Person: So, how is that whole adoption thing going? (insert tentative grimace on their face)
Me: Blah blah blah - usually short and sweet
OP: Well, my mother's co-workers' friend's granddaughter is pregnant and looking for someone to adopt her child. Would you be interested?
Me: Sure.
OP: Well, I'll let me mother know about you and she can pass along the information.
Then you never hear another word. That's fine. You never expect to.
Except . . .
Last weekend one of our friends who is a social worker (not with D*C*F*S or any subsidiary thereof) mentioned that one of her co-workers knew a lady whose niece was pregnant for the second time. She already has one child who is being raised by the birth mom's mother, and Grandma can't/won't do anymore. Was I interested?
Of course I said yes, and my only caveat was that we'd want to find out if birth mom was taking any kind of drugs, not because it would be a deal breaker necessarily, but because we wanted to know what we'd be dealing with.
To be honest, I forgot all about it, until I called my friend this morning about something completely unrelated and she said, "My co-worker talked to the aunt and the family says it sounds good to them."
My eloquent response?
"WHAT sounds good to them?"
Apparently they are interested in us for this baby.
I have no information. None. Other than no drugs are involved.
I don't know the sex, the due date, any health problems the baby may have.
Nothing.
So I e-mailed my friend with some basic questions, cause clearly this family is further down the track than we are in terms of information about each other. I'm waiting for a response.
I spent an hour on the phone with an attorney's office this morning, first with the attorney and then with the woman in his office who handles adoption. Got all my questions answered. They just need the go ahead and they will draw up adoption papers and take care of getting them signed. They even said they'd pick up the baby and bring it to us if that's what we all decide to do.
The state does require one home study visit, but happily our home study through D*C*F*S covers that.
I called our social worker because there was some talk that the family was just going to put the child "into the system" after they'd been told they would have to shoulder some of the legal costs of having the child adopted. I let my friend know that that was 100% wrong, and that the adoptive family pays the legal expenses. (The attorney confirmed that.) Anyway, if they choose to go the D*C*F*S route, my question for our worker was whether they could request that the baby be placed with us. They can, but of course the workers would then be legally required to spend six months offering services to the birth mother and trying to return the baby to her. As J said, if they are wanting the child adopted, D*C*F*S is not the way to go. She even said to give them her phone # and she would explain the way the system works and also let them know about us and all we had to go through to be approved to adopt through the state. So generous!
I assumed that the family would like to know more about us, so I'm working on yet another copy of my ABC scrapbook of our family and life here to give to them. I'll also include a letter of introduction and try to answer some of the questions that I'd be wondering about if I was a birth mother. That should take up a huge chunk of my weekend.
Holy cow. No really. Holy cow. What in the world is going on?
I've told one of my girlfriends and she got all squealy and happy and started talking about the "hand of God" being all over this. I told her that I appreciated her enthusiasm and excitement but that I had spent waaaaaay too long in this process to be putting my eggs in this basket right now. In fact, I don't even SEE the basket yet. It's fun to think about - that's about where I am right now. It's entirely possible that the birth mother will choose another family and I won't hear another word.
But if nothing else, this shows me how quickly things can change.
We're still "in the game" regarding the adoptive placement we were approached about, by the way. Just waiting to see what foster mom and foster dad decide and we'll go from there.
Better run. There's scrapbooking to do! Happy weekend all!
Other Person: So, how is that whole adoption thing going? (insert tentative grimace on their face)
Me: Blah blah blah - usually short and sweet
OP: Well, my mother's co-workers' friend's granddaughter is pregnant and looking for someone to adopt her child. Would you be interested?
Me: Sure.
OP: Well, I'll let me mother know about you and she can pass along the information.
Then you never hear another word. That's fine. You never expect to.
Except . . .
Last weekend one of our friends who is a social worker (not with D*C*F*S or any subsidiary thereof) mentioned that one of her co-workers knew a lady whose niece was pregnant for the second time. She already has one child who is being raised by the birth mom's mother, and Grandma can't/won't do anymore. Was I interested?
Of course I said yes, and my only caveat was that we'd want to find out if birth mom was taking any kind of drugs, not because it would be a deal breaker necessarily, but because we wanted to know what we'd be dealing with.
To be honest, I forgot all about it, until I called my friend this morning about something completely unrelated and she said, "My co-worker talked to the aunt and the family says it sounds good to them."
My eloquent response?
"WHAT sounds good to them?"
Apparently they are interested in us for this baby.
I have no information. None. Other than no drugs are involved.
I don't know the sex, the due date, any health problems the baby may have.
Nothing.
So I e-mailed my friend with some basic questions, cause clearly this family is further down the track than we are in terms of information about each other. I'm waiting for a response.
I spent an hour on the phone with an attorney's office this morning, first with the attorney and then with the woman in his office who handles adoption. Got all my questions answered. They just need the go ahead and they will draw up adoption papers and take care of getting them signed. They even said they'd pick up the baby and bring it to us if that's what we all decide to do.
The state does require one home study visit, but happily our home study through D*C*F*S covers that.
I called our social worker because there was some talk that the family was just going to put the child "into the system" after they'd been told they would have to shoulder some of the legal costs of having the child adopted. I let my friend know that that was 100% wrong, and that the adoptive family pays the legal expenses. (The attorney confirmed that.) Anyway, if they choose to go the D*C*F*S route, my question for our worker was whether they could request that the baby be placed with us. They can, but of course the workers would then be legally required to spend six months offering services to the birth mother and trying to return the baby to her. As J said, if they are wanting the child adopted, D*C*F*S is not the way to go. She even said to give them her phone # and she would explain the way the system works and also let them know about us and all we had to go through to be approved to adopt through the state. So generous!
I assumed that the family would like to know more about us, so I'm working on yet another copy of my ABC scrapbook of our family and life here to give to them. I'll also include a letter of introduction and try to answer some of the questions that I'd be wondering about if I was a birth mother. That should take up a huge chunk of my weekend.
Holy cow. No really. Holy cow. What in the world is going on?
I've told one of my girlfriends and she got all squealy and happy and started talking about the "hand of God" being all over this. I told her that I appreciated her enthusiasm and excitement but that I had spent waaaaaay too long in this process to be putting my eggs in this basket right now. In fact, I don't even SEE the basket yet. It's fun to think about - that's about where I am right now. It's entirely possible that the birth mother will choose another family and I won't hear another word.
But if nothing else, this shows me how quickly things can change.
We're still "in the game" regarding the adoptive placement we were approached about, by the way. Just waiting to see what foster mom and foster dad decide and we'll go from there.
Better run. There's scrapbooking to do! Happy weekend all!
Thursday, November 19, 2009
No News Is Probably No News
I don’t know whether no news is good news . . . or just no news.
I sent J a note yesterday morning asking if she knew when the child’s worker would be speaking with the foster parents. Haven’t heard a thing. She’s great about responding in a timely manner so I’d expect to get an e-mail today.
Our guess is that if they choose not to keep the child, visits in our home will begin quickly. If that’s the case, we will be thrown into a “child-proofing frenzy”.
The child has some behavioral problems. We’ve been given quite a bit of information, have done some research, and have talked ourselves silly, but until we can spend some actual time with her, we simply can’t know if those behaviors are something we feel capable of dealing with or whether she’d be better suited to another home.
I have met one of the foster parents – heard her talk about this child and how much they hoped TPR would be done so she and her husband could adopt. Knowing what I do, I’m guessing they keep her. If they don’t, that sends us a pretty clear message about just how challenging this little one might be.
I’ve been praying about this situation and have simply asked God for this:
If this isn’t supposed to be our child, then please make that clear to us in the least painful way possible. Let there be roadblocks between us and her so that we have no doubt.
If this IS supposed to be our child, then please remove the roadblocks, clear our minds of some of our concerns, and equip us to take on this little girl and her challenges and create the best life for her that we possibly can.
I sent J a note yesterday morning asking if she knew when the child’s worker would be speaking with the foster parents. Haven’t heard a thing. She’s great about responding in a timely manner so I’d expect to get an e-mail today.
Our guess is that if they choose not to keep the child, visits in our home will begin quickly. If that’s the case, we will be thrown into a “child-proofing frenzy”.
The child has some behavioral problems. We’ve been given quite a bit of information, have done some research, and have talked ourselves silly, but until we can spend some actual time with her, we simply can’t know if those behaviors are something we feel capable of dealing with or whether she’d be better suited to another home.
I have met one of the foster parents – heard her talk about this child and how much they hoped TPR would be done so she and her husband could adopt. Knowing what I do, I’m guessing they keep her. If they don’t, that sends us a pretty clear message about just how challenging this little one might be.
I’ve been praying about this situation and have simply asked God for this:
If this isn’t supposed to be our child, then please make that clear to us in the least painful way possible. Let there be roadblocks between us and her so that we have no doubt.
If this IS supposed to be our child, then please remove the roadblocks, clear our minds of some of our concerns, and equip us to take on this little girl and her challenges and create the best life for her that we possibly can.
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
Boy Oh Boy
Boy oh boy . . .
oh boy oh boy . . .
do I have a lot going on in my head at the moment.
I got an e-mail from our worker a few minutes ago. She was able to answer most everything we'd asked regarding the possible adoptive situation we've been presented. Some of the information was definitely concerning, but there was nothing there that stopped me in my tracks.
The kicker is that everything is on hold. The foster parents of this child are dragging their feet in committing to adopt, so the state is getting together the paperwork to look for adoptive parents - possibly us. Our concern, and the concern of the workers is that once foster mom and dad hear that someone else is interested, they'll say that they want them.
On one hand, they've been with this family for a long time. It would probably be better on an emotional level for the child to stay with them. On the other hand, as much as we have tried to not get excited, it hasn't worked. I think we both have our hearts set on at least having the CHANCE to see where this goes.
Boy oh boy.
oh boy oh boy . . .
do I have a lot going on in my head at the moment.
I got an e-mail from our worker a few minutes ago. She was able to answer most everything we'd asked regarding the possible adoptive situation we've been presented. Some of the information was definitely concerning, but there was nothing there that stopped me in my tracks.
The kicker is that everything is on hold. The foster parents of this child are dragging their feet in committing to adopt, so the state is getting together the paperwork to look for adoptive parents - possibly us. Our concern, and the concern of the workers is that once foster mom and dad hear that someone else is interested, they'll say that they want them.
On one hand, they've been with this family for a long time. It would probably be better on an emotional level for the child to stay with them. On the other hand, as much as we have tried to not get excited, it hasn't worked. I think we both have our hearts set on at least having the CHANCE to see where this goes.
Boy oh boy.
Sunday, November 15, 2009
Making a List ~ Checking it Twice
^^^^^This is our pond in the woods behind our house^^^^^
I've spent a good part of the weekend talking to O, our foster/adoptive mommy friends and family, and racking my brain to compile a list of initial questions to ask the caseworker of the child we are interested in. Here's the generic version:
What is her exact age?
Why was she taken into care initially? What is known about the abuse/neglect she experienced?
Was there any known sexual abuse?
What is the placement history? How old was she when she came into care? How many foster homes has she been in? Any disrupted placements? How long as she been with the current foster family?
Does she have any other siblings? If so, what is their status?
Does she have contact with any biological family members at this time?
What do you know the backgrounds of the biological parents, including medical? Is there any information available on the biological grandparents?
When was TPR completed? When did she last see her biological mother? Father?
Has she ever had any psychological evaluations? Counseling? Is there any indication of RAD, ODD, PTSD?
You mentioned that her only diagnosis at this time is _______. Does she seem to have some issues that her foster parents (or caseworker) feel are currently undiagnosed?
Any medical problems?
Did her biological mom use drugs while pregnant? If so, do you know what kind of drugs? Was she born drug addicted?
Is she on any medications? If so, do they have any side effects for her?
Does she have delays or impairments on any developmental level? If so, in what areas, and what is being done to treat them? Any learning disorders?
I’d imagine she is a little bit young for it, but has IQ testing been done?
Are there any issues with eating, sleeping, and napping?
Has there been any aggression towards other children or animals? Any sexual acting out?
How soon would weekend visits begin if we decided to move forward?
What do you feel would be our biggest challenge in adopting her?
Why was she taken into care initially? What is known about the abuse/neglect she experienced?
Was there any known sexual abuse?
What is the placement history? How old was she when she came into care? How many foster homes has she been in? Any disrupted placements? How long as she been with the current foster family?
Does she have any other siblings? If so, what is their status?
Does she have contact with any biological family members at this time?
What do you know the backgrounds of the biological parents, including medical? Is there any information available on the biological grandparents?
When was TPR completed? When did she last see her biological mother? Father?
Has she ever had any psychological evaluations? Counseling? Is there any indication of RAD, ODD, PTSD?
You mentioned that her only diagnosis at this time is _______. Does she seem to have some issues that her foster parents (or caseworker) feel are currently undiagnosed?
Any medical problems?
Did her biological mom use drugs while pregnant? If so, do you know what kind of drugs? Was she born drug addicted?
Is she on any medications? If so, do they have any side effects for her?
Does she have delays or impairments on any developmental level? If so, in what areas, and what is being done to treat them? Any learning disorders?
I’d imagine she is a little bit young for it, but has IQ testing been done?
Are there any issues with eating, sleeping, and napping?
Has there been any aggression towards other children or animals? Any sexual acting out?
How soon would weekend visits begin if we decided to move forward?
What do you feel would be our biggest challenge in adopting her?
Is there anything else that you feel we should know to helping us make the best decision for ourselves and for her?
So that's it . . . anything jump out at you that I'm missing? I'm pretty sure I've covered all of our bases, which means that I'm absolutely, positively missing SOMETHING!
My weekend has gone something like this:
nervousexcitednervousexcitednervousexcitednervousexcitednervousexcitednervousexcited
Can't wait to see what this week might hold! Tee hee!
Saturday, November 14, 2009
Ode to Opie
O and I are both dog people and have been all our lives. We didn’t really dislike cats – just had no use for them.
God said “HA!” to that and sent a very pregnant Mama Kitty to have her babies in one of our barns about five years ago. The rest, as they say, is feline history.
At first they were just little curiosities. We’d get a glimpse of them every now and then as Mama Kitty moved them from place to place. She took such good care of her four babies, even when the remnants of Hurricane Ivan blew into town. I knew we were hooked when my dog-loving husband put on a raincoat and went looking for the kitties in the midst of the storm, finding them warm and dry (much drier than he was) under a hollowed-out log at the edge of our woods.
As they grew, O and I would take our lawn chairs out in the evening and just sit and watch their antics as they ran and played and explored their world. They also became less skittish, letting us get closer and closer to them as the weeks passed. Mama Kitty was very tame and loved to be petted, which showed the kittens that perhaps we weren’t so bad after all. When they were a couple of months old, I noticed that one of the kittens, Opie, had been attacked by something. He had a huge gash in his side – it looked horrible – but I simply couldn’t get close enough to catch him and get him to the vet.
He healed physically but spent the first few years of his life terrified of the world. He liked to be near us when we were outside, but as his sister and brothers would come running up for petting, he’d sit a ways off in the yard watching. As months passed he’d inch closer, sitting on the patio when we were out there in the chairs. He WANTED to be petted. You could see it in his eyes as he watched the other cats come over, unafraid. Every month he seemed to edge his way closer, rubbing up against the hand rail on the steps or on the leg of the bbq grill nearby.
God said “HA!” to that and sent a very pregnant Mama Kitty to have her babies in one of our barns about five years ago. The rest, as they say, is feline history.
At first they were just little curiosities. We’d get a glimpse of them every now and then as Mama Kitty moved them from place to place. She took such good care of her four babies, even when the remnants of Hurricane Ivan blew into town. I knew we were hooked when my dog-loving husband put on a raincoat and went looking for the kitties in the midst of the storm, finding them warm and dry (much drier than he was) under a hollowed-out log at the edge of our woods.
As they grew, O and I would take our lawn chairs out in the evening and just sit and watch their antics as they ran and played and explored their world. They also became less skittish, letting us get closer and closer to them as the weeks passed. Mama Kitty was very tame and loved to be petted, which showed the kittens that perhaps we weren’t so bad after all. When they were a couple of months old, I noticed that one of the kittens, Opie, had been attacked by something. He had a huge gash in his side – it looked horrible – but I simply couldn’t get close enough to catch him and get him to the vet.
He healed physically but spent the first few years of his life terrified of the world. He liked to be near us when we were outside, but as his sister and brothers would come running up for petting, he’d sit a ways off in the yard watching. As months passed he’d inch closer, sitting on the patio when we were out there in the chairs. He WANTED to be petted. You could see it in his eyes as he watched the other cats come over, unafraid. Every month he seemed to edge his way closer, rubbing up against the hand rail on the steps or on the leg of the bbq grill nearby.
Finally one day – VOILA – he was in a group of his siblings who were getting loves and O was able to scratch Opie’s back. The funniest part was that Opie was in heaven until he turned around, noticed someone was touching him, and headed for the hills. So for a while there, you could pet him as long as he didn’t realize it.
Then one day he gathered up every ounce of his bravery and just let us love on him. Each night he’d come sit on the back steps and peer in through the blinds, waiting for petting. In the weeks before his death, O was even able to pick him up. I could not believe it.
Then one day he gathered up every ounce of his bravery and just let us love on him. Each night he’d come sit on the back steps and peer in through the blinds, waiting for petting. In the weeks before his death, O was even able to pick him up. I could not believe it.
Opie was my favorite. He’d been so scared so much of his life, yet even though he was still fearful, he chose to be brave and vulnerable and loved. There’s a lesson in there for all of us.
Last night I couldn’t help but glance at the back door expecting to see that little black and white face peering in at me. But of course he wasn’t there. His body is resting in his warm bed, covered by a soft blanket and buried back by our grape vines. His sweet spirit is finally no longer scared, and I hope he is racing around kitty Heaven playing and getting lots and lots of loves. He deserves them.
I love you Ops. I’ll never forget you my brave boy.
Last night I couldn’t help but glance at the back door expecting to see that little black and white face peering in at me. But of course he wasn’t there. His body is resting in his warm bed, covered by a soft blanket and buried back by our grape vines. His sweet spirit is finally no longer scared, and I hope he is racing around kitty Heaven playing and getting lots and lots of loves. He deserves them.
I love you Ops. I’ll never forget you my brave boy.
Friday, November 13, 2009
Buzzzzzzzzz - Updated
There's a buzz of excitement around our house the last 12 hours or so.
I can't say too much - don't want to jinx it - but I will say this . . .
We got an e-mail from our worker about a situation. Even if it works out, nothing will happen immediately and although there is the possibility that the rug might be completely pulled out from under us, we are buzzing with excitement this morning.
Well, with excitement and lots and lots questions.
On the agenda for today?
1. Shopping for Christmas ornaments with my Mom, Dad, and O. It's a tradition in our family - Dad and I have done it every year since I was a little girl.
2. One lengthy call to our worker.
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
Positivity
You might want to mark this date down in your calendar because I am hereby going to say something extremely positive about our personal experiences with the foster/adopt system of my state.
Ahem.
I love our caseworker. Love. Her.
She taught our foster/adopt classes way back when and is the one who arranged for us to go from Horrible Rotten County’s D*C*F*S back to her county, where they actually seem to do things like “communicate” and “follow up” and “do their jobs”. Imagine that.
She visited a couple of weeks ago to meet with us and do her every-six-months check of our home. O wasn’t able to be there but J and I sat and visited and laughed and had a grand old time. I think if we weren’t “case*worker” and “adoptive parent”, we’d have been dear friends. So needless to say, I feel like I can really talk to her and that I can trust her to give me her best advice and to do what she says she’s going to do. That just plain makes me happy.
Basically, we are at the very top of her list for an adoptive placement.
We talked about whether O & I really wanted to foster at this point, and I told her I was really torn about it. Several of my friends have recently had foster children removed from their homes to return to biological family. O’s cousin and his wife are losing their foster son (less than a year old) tomorrow; a child they picked up in the hospital as a newborn with multiple broken bones; a child they love and wanted to adopt. The word “devastation” doesn’t even begin to touch their pain, even though they knew it was a possibility he would be leaving at some point. We just can’t say that we’re ready to sign up for that.
We also don’t want to miss out on an adoptive opportunity and a child who could stay “forever” because our places are filled by a child we are fostering.
Ahem.
I love our caseworker. Love. Her.
She taught our foster/adopt classes way back when and is the one who arranged for us to go from Horrible Rotten County’s D*C*F*S back to her county, where they actually seem to do things like “communicate” and “follow up” and “do their jobs”. Imagine that.
She visited a couple of weeks ago to meet with us and do her every-six-months check of our home. O wasn’t able to be there but J and I sat and visited and laughed and had a grand old time. I think if we weren’t “case*worker” and “adoptive parent”, we’d have been dear friends. So needless to say, I feel like I can really talk to her and that I can trust her to give me her best advice and to do what she says she’s going to do. That just plain makes me happy.
Basically, we are at the very top of her list for an adoptive placement.
We talked about whether O & I really wanted to foster at this point, and I told her I was really torn about it. Several of my friends have recently had foster children removed from their homes to return to biological family. O’s cousin and his wife are losing their foster son (less than a year old) tomorrow; a child they picked up in the hospital as a newborn with multiple broken bones; a child they love and wanted to adopt. The word “devastation” doesn’t even begin to touch their pain, even though they knew it was a possibility he would be leaving at some point. We just can’t say that we’re ready to sign up for that.
We also don’t want to miss out on an adoptive opportunity and a child who could stay “forever” because our places are filled by a child we are fostering.
And of course, we wouldn’t want to remove a foster child who is happily bonded to us because there is an adoptive placement available.
As J said, we’re stuck between a rock and a hard place.
I don’t know that I ever gave her a final answer on what we want to do, but she knows that for now, we are leaning away from it in hopes that an adoptive placement will come along soon.
And it appears that that might be a possibility.
There is one situation that O and I are ridiculously excited about. I’m not going to say much about it right now, as there’s a ways to go before anything could happen, but J is on the case and is keeping us informed as things progress.
There’s another situation with children we are familiar with that may or may not become an adoptive placement. Lots of questions would need to be answered before we’d feel comfortable saying “yea” or “nay”, but again, a possibility.
The out-of-state baby has another court date mid-November so maybe we’ll have some idea of what direction that case is taking. We’re still hopeful that that situation might work out.
At least we’ve got some irons in the fire.
I was interested to hear that our old worker, Mia, may no longer be with Horrible Rotten County any longer – that she had perhaps been let go. I was thrilled to hear it, not in a vengeful way, but because I’ve always felt that if she was so blatantly dropping the ball with us, what in the world was happening with the kids she was supposed to be taking care of?!?! Okay, maybe there was a bit of glee at the thought of her finally being held accountable for the less-than-half-assed approach she seemed to take to her job. Karma. It always comes back around and bites you on the tee-hiney.
Anyway, I came away from my meeting with J ever so hopeful – moreso than I’ve been in a very long time – so hopeful that I even finished the “tree” that I wanted to do for the child’s room in our home and hung it over the bed. I like it. It makes me smile.
As J said, we’re stuck between a rock and a hard place.
I don’t know that I ever gave her a final answer on what we want to do, but she knows that for now, we are leaning away from it in hopes that an adoptive placement will come along soon.
And it appears that that might be a possibility.
There is one situation that O and I are ridiculously excited about. I’m not going to say much about it right now, as there’s a ways to go before anything could happen, but J is on the case and is keeping us informed as things progress.
There’s another situation with children we are familiar with that may or may not become an adoptive placement. Lots of questions would need to be answered before we’d feel comfortable saying “yea” or “nay”, but again, a possibility.
The out-of-state baby has another court date mid-November so maybe we’ll have some idea of what direction that case is taking. We’re still hopeful that that situation might work out.
At least we’ve got some irons in the fire.
I was interested to hear that our old worker, Mia, may no longer be with Horrible Rotten County any longer – that she had perhaps been let go. I was thrilled to hear it, not in a vengeful way, but because I’ve always felt that if she was so blatantly dropping the ball with us, what in the world was happening with the kids she was supposed to be taking care of?!?! Okay, maybe there was a bit of glee at the thought of her finally being held accountable for the less-than-half-assed approach she seemed to take to her job. Karma. It always comes back around and bites you on the tee-hiney.
Anyway, I came away from my meeting with J ever so hopeful – moreso than I’ve been in a very long time – so hopeful that I even finished the “tree” that I wanted to do for the child’s room in our home and hung it over the bed. I like it. It makes me smile.
Last One Out, Turn Off the Light
Almost three years ago, I started an infertility support group in my area with the help of a fellow blogger. Our group was a small one– just a core group of four, with another who attended a couple of our dinners, and a few others flitting around the edges. Lord did we have fun. We got together each month (or at least tried to) for Mexican food and friendship and a ridiculous amount of laughter.
One of us, J, was newly pregnant when we began our get togethers, and is now the mommy of two deliciously beautiful little girls.
Another, B, became a mommy soon after, adopting her darling son through the foster system. His sister followed a few months ago after a successful pregnancy through ART. Two words: Gerber baby . . . . . . except maybe cuter.
Yet another, K, has two sons. I have chosen to “lose touch” with her for several reasons, but I am imagining that the boys are healthy and happy little guys.
And just a couple of weeks ago, our final member, S had a son. All babies are cute but DANG, that is one cute boy!
So that leaves me.
I’ve drifted away from the girls a little bit over the last year, and not for the reasons you might imagine. It’s not because it’s too difficult for me to see their pregnant bellies or because I feel uncomfortable with their mommy talk. My world is filled with plenty of pregnant bellies and mommy talk.
The reason why is summed up pretty well by a conversation I had with B in the early spring. We were talking about S’s newly-announced pregnancy and B said, “Of everyone, she was most apprehensive about telling you.”
I wasn’t hurt or saddened by H’s pregnancy announcement. I was thrilled for her and her husband – that after years of pain, their dream of expanding their family was coming true. I adore H – we clicked from the beginning and though we haven’t spent a lot of time together, she is one of my very favorite people.
The punch to my stomach was hearing that she didn’t want to tell me.
(By the way, B would NEVER do or say anything that she knew would be hurtful. She is generous and loving. I’m sure it just never occurred to her how that information would land in my world.)
I understand S's apprehension. I really do. She was worried about how I’d take the news because she cares about me.
Yet I still didn’t know what to do with that information. I still don’t.
Does my life look exactly like I want it to? Like I thought it would? No, though a lot of my life looks much better than I ever could have imagined.
Do I sometimes wish we’d started “trying” to have a baby sooner, or that we’d met ten years earlier. Sure.
Do I wish there was a child running around our house calling me “mom”? Sometimes I do, though not as often as I used to.
When I was in the throes of IF treatment, I was sad and wistful and somewhat fixated on having a child. I didn’t know who I’d be if I wasn't a mom. That’s what I’d always thought I’d be.
I’ve come a long way in the past months. I am FAR from having it all figured out, but I'm getting there.
When I say that I’m not sure I want to have a child, it’s not a defense mechanism, no matter what others may think. That’s how I really feel.
When I say that I’ve made peace with my infertility, I really have, believe it or not. Not every day is perfect. I do have my moments. But instead of having those moments every day or even every week, they seem to come every few months now.
I don’t need to be treated differently because I’m infertile and don’t have kids. I don’t need people to guard their words around me or be “afraid” to tell me things. I don’t need sympathy. I just need to be treated like they’d treat all the rest of their friends and not singled out for some imagined emotional handicap.
Hopefully I'll figure out what to do with the weirdness I feel about this situation and put it behind me. I am clear this is a "me" problem and that there is nothing for anyone else to do about it.
But all in all, when I look back on our infertility support group, I feel a sense of accomplishment – that I helped create something that made a very painful time in all our lives a little easier to live through. I really love and care about those girls and now their children. I know just how much each one of those babies was wanted, and I can’t wait to see the little people they become.
Click.
One of us, J, was newly pregnant when we began our get togethers, and is now the mommy of two deliciously beautiful little girls.
Another, B, became a mommy soon after, adopting her darling son through the foster system. His sister followed a few months ago after a successful pregnancy through ART. Two words: Gerber baby . . . . . . except maybe cuter.
Yet another, K, has two sons. I have chosen to “lose touch” with her for several reasons, but I am imagining that the boys are healthy and happy little guys.
And just a couple of weeks ago, our final member, S had a son. All babies are cute but DANG, that is one cute boy!
So that leaves me.
I’ve drifted away from the girls a little bit over the last year, and not for the reasons you might imagine. It’s not because it’s too difficult for me to see their pregnant bellies or because I feel uncomfortable with their mommy talk. My world is filled with plenty of pregnant bellies and mommy talk.
The reason why is summed up pretty well by a conversation I had with B in the early spring. We were talking about S’s newly-announced pregnancy and B said, “Of everyone, she was most apprehensive about telling you.”
I wasn’t hurt or saddened by H’s pregnancy announcement. I was thrilled for her and her husband – that after years of pain, their dream of expanding their family was coming true. I adore H – we clicked from the beginning and though we haven’t spent a lot of time together, she is one of my very favorite people.
The punch to my stomach was hearing that she didn’t want to tell me.
(By the way, B would NEVER do or say anything that she knew would be hurtful. She is generous and loving. I’m sure it just never occurred to her how that information would land in my world.)
I understand S's apprehension. I really do. She was worried about how I’d take the news because she cares about me.
Yet I still didn’t know what to do with that information. I still don’t.
Does my life look exactly like I want it to? Like I thought it would? No, though a lot of my life looks much better than I ever could have imagined.
Do I sometimes wish we’d started “trying” to have a baby sooner, or that we’d met ten years earlier. Sure.
Do I wish there was a child running around our house calling me “mom”? Sometimes I do, though not as often as I used to.
When I was in the throes of IF treatment, I was sad and wistful and somewhat fixated on having a child. I didn’t know who I’d be if I wasn't a mom. That’s what I’d always thought I’d be.
I’ve come a long way in the past months. I am FAR from having it all figured out, but I'm getting there.
When I say that I’m not sure I want to have a child, it’s not a defense mechanism, no matter what others may think. That’s how I really feel.
When I say that I’ve made peace with my infertility, I really have, believe it or not. Not every day is perfect. I do have my moments. But instead of having those moments every day or even every week, they seem to come every few months now.
I don’t need to be treated differently because I’m infertile and don’t have kids. I don’t need people to guard their words around me or be “afraid” to tell me things. I don’t need sympathy. I just need to be treated like they’d treat all the rest of their friends and not singled out for some imagined emotional handicap.
Hopefully I'll figure out what to do with the weirdness I feel about this situation and put it behind me. I am clear this is a "me" problem and that there is nothing for anyone else to do about it.
But all in all, when I look back on our infertility support group, I feel a sense of accomplishment – that I helped create something that made a very painful time in all our lives a little easier to live through. I really love and care about those girls and now their children. I know just how much each one of those babies was wanted, and I can’t wait to see the little people they become.
Click.
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