Well, the judge now knows about us. He was more enthusiastic when he thought we were an in-state family, but nevertheless has ordered DF%A%CS to investigate us as a possible placement for Chris.
At the very least, if they do what they have been ordered to do, DF%A%CS should be in touch with us or our SW before the next court date. I’m not confident that we’ll hear from them, by the way. They could easily skim through our home study, reject it out of hand, and call that “investigation”. (Cynical much? Why yes I am, thanks!)
But ultimately, the judge has no jurisdiction to ever order Chris placed with us, even if Amy requests it. It is totally and completely up to DF%A%CS. So, they may not choose us, but (theoretically) they’ll have to answer to the judge about why they didn’t.
So now we wait for another month . . . or so.
We’re going to need A LOT more popcorn.
Tuesday, July 27, 2010
Monday, July 26, 2010
Pop Some Popcorn
“I almost hate to call and give you any kind of good news” said my friend who is Chris’ foster mom when she phoned this weekend. She knows better than anyone how quickly our “good news” has turned into “bad news” when it’s come to this situation. If it COULD go wrong, it HAS gone wrong. I reminded her that we now take everything with a grain of salt the size of a Volkswagen, and she proceeded.
There is a court hearing scheduled for this week. Chris’ gua*rdian ad lite*m (Chris’ voice/representative in court) called my friend to get an update on his case from her perspective. In the midst of sharing everything that had been going on the past month, she mentioned us. He seemed really surprised to hear that we were an approved foster AND adoptive family, that we already had a relationship with Chris (and his mom), that Amy wanted us to raise Chris, that she was willing to sign over her rights provided he was placed with us, AND that we very much wanted him. He, of course, had no idea that we even existed.
He asked a lot of questions, and then requested a copy of the letter of introduction I’d sent Chris’ SW a couple of weeks ago - I’d forwarded my friend a copy of the letter too. He said he will be putting that letter with his report which will, in part, be letting the judge know that we want Chris.
I see about 14 different ways this can go badly, but maybe, just maybe this is our shot. At the very least, perhaps DF%CS will have to explain themselves, and why they seemingly want to keep Chris for an in-state couple when we already know him, adore him, and want to be his parents.
So pop some popcorn, put your feet up, and stay tuned. I’m anxious to see how this one plays out.
There is a court hearing scheduled for this week. Chris’ gua*rdian ad lite*m (Chris’ voice/representative in court) called my friend to get an update on his case from her perspective. In the midst of sharing everything that had been going on the past month, she mentioned us. He seemed really surprised to hear that we were an approved foster AND adoptive family, that we already had a relationship with Chris (and his mom), that Amy wanted us to raise Chris, that she was willing to sign over her rights provided he was placed with us, AND that we very much wanted him. He, of course, had no idea that we even existed.
He asked a lot of questions, and then requested a copy of the letter of introduction I’d sent Chris’ SW a couple of weeks ago - I’d forwarded my friend a copy of the letter too. He said he will be putting that letter with his report which will, in part, be letting the judge know that we want Chris.
I see about 14 different ways this can go badly, but maybe, just maybe this is our shot. At the very least, perhaps DF%CS will have to explain themselves, and why they seemingly want to keep Chris for an in-state couple when we already know him, adore him, and want to be his parents.
So pop some popcorn, put your feet up, and stay tuned. I’m anxious to see how this one plays out.
Tuesday, July 20, 2010
Ghosts of Failed Adoptions Past
I was sitting in one of the rocking chairs on our front porch yesterday, enjoying the breeze, reading the “Twilight” series for the second time, and doing some thinking.
It’s very rare that I revisit our past failed adoption experiences. I think that’s the only way I can keep moving forward in this journey. Experience the pain, tuck it away, and go on. But for some reason yesterday, my mind and heart wanted to take a look back.
In the last eight months, we have said “yes” to eight children. Eight opportunities to have a child to love and call our own. Yet we have no child to love and call our own.
There was an adoptive situation back in the winter that I never wrote about.
There was the birth mom who found her way to us through a friend of a friend, who said she wanted us to raise her child, and who changed her mind about giving the child up for adoption days before the baby was born.
There was Smiley who was available for adoption through the foster system. We got a call from the adoption worker the week before the placement meeting telling us that someone with a biological connection had come out of the woodwork and wanted to adopt him. The placement meeting went on and none of the participants had even one concern about placing him with us. They whole-heartedly agreed that he’d be loved and well taken care of in our home. Yet we didn’t get the opportunity to be his parents.
Then there was Mark, who we loved so much. The time we had with him was some of the best of our lives. I decorated his room. D got him a sandbox and put up a swing. I read him bedtime stories and decorated cookies with him. He and D drew chalk pictures on the front sidewalk and watched a ridiculous number of Diego episodes. Mark had us (and our hearts) quite squarely in the palm of his hand and three days before he was to move in, we had to walk away from him because of someone else’s evil choices.
There were also the two babies we said “yes” to fostering. We got the call and I went racing to Wal*mart and spent $300 on things we’d need – things they’d love. I'd barely gotten the car unloaded when the phone rang with our worker telling us that the babies weren’t going to be available.
And finally there is the situation with Amy. At one time or another, she has mentioned us raising all three of her children. It remains to be seen what will happen with the unborn baby, of course, but I have very little confidence that she will follow through on placing him/her with us. The one that is really killing us is Chris. What once looked like a sure thing now seems to be falling apart day by day. Amy wants us to have him, but apparently DF^CS no longer cares what she wants.
There was absolutely nothing we could do to make any of these situations turn out differently. Not one of the outcomes had anything to do with us or our merit as parents (other than our choice to walk away from Mark, and even our SW said there was nothing else we could have done). It just seems that in each case, fate or God intervened and things promptly and spectacularly went off the rails, in ways that have surprised even our very experienced SW. And she doesn’t know the half of it.
I have to ask myself WHY. Why have each of these situations come into our lives, raised our hopes, fallen apart, and left us devastated time after time after time?
We didn’t seek out any of these situations. Not a single one of them. Each one was brought to us. For what reason? ***
It’s very rare that I revisit our past failed adoption experiences. I think that’s the only way I can keep moving forward in this journey. Experience the pain, tuck it away, and go on. But for some reason yesterday, my mind and heart wanted to take a look back.
In the last eight months, we have said “yes” to eight children. Eight opportunities to have a child to love and call our own. Yet we have no child to love and call our own.
There was an adoptive situation back in the winter that I never wrote about.
There was the birth mom who found her way to us through a friend of a friend, who said she wanted us to raise her child, and who changed her mind about giving the child up for adoption days before the baby was born.
There was Smiley who was available for adoption through the foster system. We got a call from the adoption worker the week before the placement meeting telling us that someone with a biological connection had come out of the woodwork and wanted to adopt him. The placement meeting went on and none of the participants had even one concern about placing him with us. They whole-heartedly agreed that he’d be loved and well taken care of in our home. Yet we didn’t get the opportunity to be his parents.
Then there was Mark, who we loved so much. The time we had with him was some of the best of our lives. I decorated his room. D got him a sandbox and put up a swing. I read him bedtime stories and decorated cookies with him. He and D drew chalk pictures on the front sidewalk and watched a ridiculous number of Diego episodes. Mark had us (and our hearts) quite squarely in the palm of his hand and three days before he was to move in, we had to walk away from him because of someone else’s evil choices.
There were also the two babies we said “yes” to fostering. We got the call and I went racing to Wal*mart and spent $300 on things we’d need – things they’d love. I'd barely gotten the car unloaded when the phone rang with our worker telling us that the babies weren’t going to be available.
And finally there is the situation with Amy. At one time or another, she has mentioned us raising all three of her children. It remains to be seen what will happen with the unborn baby, of course, but I have very little confidence that she will follow through on placing him/her with us. The one that is really killing us is Chris. What once looked like a sure thing now seems to be falling apart day by day. Amy wants us to have him, but apparently DF^CS no longer cares what she wants.
There was absolutely nothing we could do to make any of these situations turn out differently. Not one of the outcomes had anything to do with us or our merit as parents (other than our choice to walk away from Mark, and even our SW said there was nothing else we could have done). It just seems that in each case, fate or God intervened and things promptly and spectacularly went off the rails, in ways that have surprised even our very experienced SW. And she doesn’t know the half of it.
I have to ask myself WHY. Why have each of these situations come into our lives, raised our hopes, fallen apart, and left us devastated time after time after time?
We didn’t seek out any of these situations. Not a single one of them. Each one was brought to us. For what reason? ***
If I’m being honest, when I look back at all the pain – all the unnecessary pain we’ve been put through just in the last eight months, it’s very difficult not to be angry. It very much feels like we are simply being toyed with.
IF WE ARE SUPPOSED TO BE PARENTS, THEN PLEASE LET SOMETHING GO OUR WAY. JUST ONCE. IS THAT SO MUCH TO ASK?
IF WE AREN’T SUPPOSED TO BE PARENTS, THEN JUST TELL ME! JUST TELL ME AND WE’LL FORGET ABOUT IT AND GET ON WITH OUR LIVES.
IF WE ARE SUPPOSED TO BE PARENTS, THEN PLEASE LET SOMETHING GO OUR WAY. JUST ONCE. IS THAT SO MUCH TO ASK?
IF WE AREN’T SUPPOSED TO BE PARENTS, THEN JUST TELL ME! JUST TELL ME AND WE’LL FORGET ABOUT IT AND GET ON WITH OUR LIVES.
AND IF THERE IS SOME SORT OF LESSON WE ARE SUPPOSED TO DERIVE FROM THIS STRING OF PAINFUL SITUATIONS, THEN TELL ME WHAT IT IS! I DON’T GET IT.
I DON’T.
(See, this is why I tend not to entertain the Ghosts of Failed Adoptions Past. I end up yelling at God on my blog. That can’t be good.)
*** Though the tone of this post is one extreme frustration, we are also grateful that every one of those opportunities came into our lives, because each one represented at least a chance to become parents.
Sunday, July 18, 2010
Green Thumb
I love to plant things. I can’t say I love to garden, per se, because I am not a big fan of the post-planting watering and weeding process. I do it. Mostly. I’m just not a big fan. I do, however, take great pleasure and pride in the beautiful flowers blooming in our yard.
One of the things on my bucket list was to plant sunflowers. Seems silly doesn’t it? It’s so simple – cheap and easy and we have the space. I’d just never done it.
But this spring as I raced past the seed display at Wal*mart I grabbed a few packets of sunflower seeds, and one sunny afternoon O and I planted them into rows in our garden.
They are so beautiful. I walk out there every day and just stare.
Those yellow bits of sunshine growing in our garden remind me of how much joy can be found in very simple things, and in pursuing your dreams – no matter how small.
Another one of my dreams was to have our own pumpkin patch. You’d think it was because I wanted to harvest OUR pumpkins with OUR child one of these days but nope – it’s all for me. I love fall and Halloween, and O presenting me with pumpkins to decorate the house and porch with makes me ridiculously happy. We’ve had the pumpkin patch for several years, and it’s time once again to get it planted if we’re going to have a good crop.
Yesterday was an unusually cool day for July in the South – mid-80’s and overcast. Perfect for pumpkin planting!
One of the things on my bucket list was to plant sunflowers. Seems silly doesn’t it? It’s so simple – cheap and easy and we have the space. I’d just never done it.
But this spring as I raced past the seed display at Wal*mart I grabbed a few packets of sunflower seeds, and one sunny afternoon O and I planted them into rows in our garden.
They are so beautiful. I walk out there every day and just stare.
Those yellow bits of sunshine growing in our garden remind me of how much joy can be found in very simple things, and in pursuing your dreams – no matter how small.
Another one of my dreams was to have our own pumpkin patch. You’d think it was because I wanted to harvest OUR pumpkins with OUR child one of these days but nope – it’s all for me. I love fall and Halloween, and O presenting me with pumpkins to decorate the house and porch with makes me ridiculously happy. We’ve had the pumpkin patch for several years, and it’s time once again to get it planted if we’re going to have a good crop.
Yesterday was an unusually cool day for July in the South – mid-80’s and overcast. Perfect for pumpkin planting!
As we got started, we worked through a small rain shower and kept on going. It wasn’t bad – we were wet, but not terribly so. We tilled up the patch and filled the wheelbarrow with loads of horse poop and leaf mulch. Then I got down “amongst it”. I am not a gardener who stoops to tend to her plants. I get down in the dirt, literally crawling through the mud and grass and enjoying every minute.
The rain started again but it still wasn’t too bad so we kept plugging away. O filled buckets with our punkin’ growing mixture and I formed the mounds.
All was well until I heard a strange noise that sounded like a large machine on the highway or maybe a new, loud piece of equipment at the business across the field from us. O’s response was “uh oh” and I quickly understood that the noise was an absolute downpour hitting the metal roof of the building at said business. And it was headed straight for us.
It was a gully washer to be sure and within 30 seconds, we were soaked. Well, O was soaked. I was soaked and completely covered in mud. And still we kept working. We certainly couldn’t have gotten any wetter, and I couldn’t have gotten much muddier. Another 30 seconds and O could barely stand up in the slippery pumpkin patch so it was time for us to surrender and retreat.
We crossed the yard holding hands and dancing to the tune “Singin’ in the Rain”, as wet as if we’d jumped into one of our ponds. It was one of those perfectly ridiculous, wonderful moments that I will remember for a lifetime.
For all of the frustrations we have about not being parents yet, it’s nice to stop for a minute and remember what a sweet, lovely life we have here together.
A really lovely life. With sunflowers. And a nearly-completed pumpkin patch. And a washing machine full of wet muddy clothes.
For all of the frustrations we have about not being parents yet, it’s nice to stop for a minute and remember what a sweet, lovely life we have here together.
A really lovely life. With sunflowers. And a nearly-completed pumpkin patch. And a washing machine full of wet muddy clothes.
Wednesday, July 14, 2010
Wiped Out
What an absolutely crappy day.
This morning our chances for adopting Chris went from roughly 25% down to about 5%, based on my best guess. It seems that although the state begged Amy to find a placement for Chris and she did just that, they are now saying it’s “too little to late”. We are, of course, welcomed to submit our home study to them for consideration should Chris’ case go to TPR. Mmmmkay. You don’t want to consider us now because we’re out of state. What exactly will change when we are competing with a hundred other home studies what will be submitted for him? We’ll STILL be out of state. Yes, we have the advantage of having an existing relationship with him, and with Amy, but that seems to hold no weight now, so what exactly will be different later????
Speaking of TPR, Amy seems to be racing towards it at lightning speed, due to a series of stupid decisions she’s making. There seems to be no helping her at this point.
So with the advice of a good friend, O and I are going to send Chris’ SW our home study and scrapbook to try and get our foot in the door before the flood gates open and home studies come pouring in. At least the SW will have faces to put with our names and this situation. May not do one freaking bit of good, but we’re not going down without a fight. We'd also still like to go meet with her - not sure if that will happen or not.
But my FAVORITE thing today???? When I pulled the unofficial copy of our home study this afternoon to get it ready to send, I happened to notice that THE HOME STUDY IS INCORRECT. It is, in fact, the one submitted by our completely worthless SW Mia – the one we waited 18 months for her to complete but she never did. The one that was corrected and submitted to the state by our wonderful SW J over a year ago.
Some of the best errors???
I take “Medium” for reflux instead of Nexium.
I graduated from high school 6 years before I actually graduated from high school.
My husband graduated from high school 5 years before he actually graduated from high school.
Apparently I only attended one year of college. Funny that I walked away with a 4-year degree, isn’t it?
We seem to have a dog who will bark like crazy when someone arrives, only to lick the person to death when they get close. We didn’t even have a dog when this home study was written.
Oh, and my favorite is that my name is Mrs. Wells, and I’ve been using a totally incorrect social security number all these years.
Can I just say, I CAN NOT BELIEVE THAT THIS STATE STILL HAS OUR HOME STUDY SCREWED UP! CAN NOT BELIEVE IT!!!
I called the person from the state office who sent us this incorrect copy of our home study. She promised to pull our file and mark Mia’s copy “VOID” so that it would not be sent out again. You can bet your bippy that I will call on Monday and follow up on that.
Good Lord I hate this. I truly do. I am absolutely exhausted.
This morning our chances for adopting Chris went from roughly 25% down to about 5%, based on my best guess. It seems that although the state begged Amy to find a placement for Chris and she did just that, they are now saying it’s “too little to late”. We are, of course, welcomed to submit our home study to them for consideration should Chris’ case go to TPR. Mmmmkay. You don’t want to consider us now because we’re out of state. What exactly will change when we are competing with a hundred other home studies what will be submitted for him? We’ll STILL be out of state. Yes, we have the advantage of having an existing relationship with him, and with Amy, but that seems to hold no weight now, so what exactly will be different later????
Speaking of TPR, Amy seems to be racing towards it at lightning speed, due to a series of stupid decisions she’s making. There seems to be no helping her at this point.
So with the advice of a good friend, O and I are going to send Chris’ SW our home study and scrapbook to try and get our foot in the door before the flood gates open and home studies come pouring in. At least the SW will have faces to put with our names and this situation. May not do one freaking bit of good, but we’re not going down without a fight. We'd also still like to go meet with her - not sure if that will happen or not.
But my FAVORITE thing today???? When I pulled the unofficial copy of our home study this afternoon to get it ready to send, I happened to notice that THE HOME STUDY IS INCORRECT. It is, in fact, the one submitted by our completely worthless SW Mia – the one we waited 18 months for her to complete but she never did. The one that was corrected and submitted to the state by our wonderful SW J over a year ago.
Some of the best errors???
I take “Medium” for reflux instead of Nexium.
I graduated from high school 6 years before I actually graduated from high school.
My husband graduated from high school 5 years before he actually graduated from high school.
Apparently I only attended one year of college. Funny that I walked away with a 4-year degree, isn’t it?
We seem to have a dog who will bark like crazy when someone arrives, only to lick the person to death when they get close. We didn’t even have a dog when this home study was written.
Oh, and my favorite is that my name is Mrs. Wells, and I’ve been using a totally incorrect social security number all these years.
Can I just say, I CAN NOT BELIEVE THAT THIS STATE STILL HAS OUR HOME STUDY SCREWED UP! CAN NOT BELIEVE IT!!!
I called the person from the state office who sent us this incorrect copy of our home study. She promised to pull our file and mark Mia’s copy “VOID” so that it would not be sent out again. You can bet your bippy that I will call on Monday and follow up on that.
Good Lord I hate this. I truly do. I am absolutely exhausted.
Sunday, July 11, 2010
S-A-T-U-R-D-A-Y
I love Saturdays.
O used to play golf on both Saturday and Sunday, but for the past three months or so (since everything has been going on with Chris and Amy) he has taken Saturday off and we’ll leave the house in the morning in search of adventure. We go antiquing, stroll down memory lane in my hometown, have lunch at our favorite restaurants, go for long drives out in the country, or treasure hunt at auctions in the area.
My former friend E and I used to have a saying – “Out of my head – out of my house.” Basically it meant that if we spent too much time alone in our homes thinking thinking thinking about whatever was troubling us, it was very easy to forget that there was a whole big bright world out there that has absolutely nothing to do with us or our concerns. Therefore, it was important for us to get out into the world on a regular basis, even if it was as simple as going to the bookstore or sitting in the park reading in the sunshine for awhile. It helped improve attitude and perspective and overall mental health
So Saturday has become a big “out of my head – out of my house” day for me recently.
Yesterday was a beautiful sunny day. O and I hit a couple of garage sales, had some lunch, and then drove to shop at the Unclaimed Bagg*age Center. You may have heard of it – it was on Oprah once years ago. Basically this company purchases all the unclaimed luggage/contents from the airlines and resells it. (Yes, THAT’S where the lost suitcase full of your very favorite clothes ended up when the airline lost it! There’s a housewife in Boaz Alabama who loves your favorite yellow skirt – the one that magically takes 5 pounds off your hips.) Man alive, it was like shopping on Black Friday. People were blocking aisles, crowding counters, running into each other with buggies and completely oblivious to everything but the bargains they were looking for. I don’t have a lot of tolerance for that, but O and I did spend about an hour wandering around and looking at all the stuff. It was just so nice to be able to turn off the “I-want-to-be-Chris’-mother-so-badly-that-I-can-hardly-stand-it-but-I-can’t-do-anything-about-it” thoughts for a while. Turned off until we found ourselves in the kids’ section, that is.
It was simply instinct to go over and see if they had any shoes that would fit Chris’ feet, which resemble quickly-growing boat paddles. I wasn’t looking in anticipation of him coming to live with us, but rather I wanted to get them for his foster mom who is bankrupting herself trying to keep the kid in shoes – or for Amy, should she be able to get him back. I didn’t find anything, but left feeling the deflated, unsettled hopefulness that has been my constant companion for the past few months.
Truth be told, I wish I could just fall asleep for about 3 weeks and wake up to find out what was going to happen. Of course, given our luck on this foster/adopt journey, I would wake up to find that everything was continued for another month or 4.
And yes, I realize that I don’t REALLY want to miss the next three weeks of my life. I’d miss a lot of opportunities to smooch my husband, a lot of cute monkey moments (we call our dog and cats “monkeys”), and some wonderful time spent with friends and family. Oh, and I’d miss the 2-hour episode of “Deadliest Catch” which will be a tribute to Captain Phil Harris. I plan to cry my way through the entire 120 minutes.
Hey . . . I'd also miss the next episode of the "Real Housewives of New Jersey" where Jacqueline's daughter gets arrested for assaulting Danielle.
Maybe that 3-week nap isn't such a bad idea after all.
O used to play golf on both Saturday and Sunday, but for the past three months or so (since everything has been going on with Chris and Amy) he has taken Saturday off and we’ll leave the house in the morning in search of adventure. We go antiquing, stroll down memory lane in my hometown, have lunch at our favorite restaurants, go for long drives out in the country, or treasure hunt at auctions in the area.
My former friend E and I used to have a saying – “Out of my head – out of my house.” Basically it meant that if we spent too much time alone in our homes thinking thinking thinking about whatever was troubling us, it was very easy to forget that there was a whole big bright world out there that has absolutely nothing to do with us or our concerns. Therefore, it was important for us to get out into the world on a regular basis, even if it was as simple as going to the bookstore or sitting in the park reading in the sunshine for awhile. It helped improve attitude and perspective and overall mental health
So Saturday has become a big “out of my head – out of my house” day for me recently.
Yesterday was a beautiful sunny day. O and I hit a couple of garage sales, had some lunch, and then drove to shop at the Unclaimed Bagg*age Center. You may have heard of it – it was on Oprah once years ago. Basically this company purchases all the unclaimed luggage/contents from the airlines and resells it. (Yes, THAT’S where the lost suitcase full of your very favorite clothes ended up when the airline lost it! There’s a housewife in Boaz Alabama who loves your favorite yellow skirt – the one that magically takes 5 pounds off your hips.) Man alive, it was like shopping on Black Friday. People were blocking aisles, crowding counters, running into each other with buggies and completely oblivious to everything but the bargains they were looking for. I don’t have a lot of tolerance for that, but O and I did spend about an hour wandering around and looking at all the stuff. It was just so nice to be able to turn off the “I-want-to-be-Chris’-mother-so-badly-that-I-can-hardly-stand-it-but-I-can’t-do-anything-about-it” thoughts for a while. Turned off until we found ourselves in the kids’ section, that is.
It was simply instinct to go over and see if they had any shoes that would fit Chris’ feet, which resemble quickly-growing boat paddles. I wasn’t looking in anticipation of him coming to live with us, but rather I wanted to get them for his foster mom who is bankrupting herself trying to keep the kid in shoes – or for Amy, should she be able to get him back. I didn’t find anything, but left feeling the deflated, unsettled hopefulness that has been my constant companion for the past few months.
Truth be told, I wish I could just fall asleep for about 3 weeks and wake up to find out what was going to happen. Of course, given our luck on this foster/adopt journey, I would wake up to find that everything was continued for another month or 4.
And yes, I realize that I don’t REALLY want to miss the next three weeks of my life. I’d miss a lot of opportunities to smooch my husband, a lot of cute monkey moments (we call our dog and cats “monkeys”), and some wonderful time spent with friends and family. Oh, and I’d miss the 2-hour episode of “Deadliest Catch” which will be a tribute to Captain Phil Harris. I plan to cry my way through the entire 120 minutes.
Hey . . . I'd also miss the next episode of the "Real Housewives of New Jersey" where Jacqueline's daughter gets arrested for assaulting Danielle.
Maybe that 3-week nap isn't such a bad idea after all.
Friday, July 9, 2010
Sweet Dreams
Isn’t it funny how you can think you have something under control? Handled? That you’re calm and breeeezy about it - going through your day hardly thinking about it at all?
And then night comes. And you remember just how NON-BREEZY you are.
I had a couple of girlfriends visit for several days over the July 4th weekend. It was exactly what I needed – day after day of good conversation and a ridiculous amount of laughter. I rarely even thought about the situation with Amy and Chris and when I did, my stomach didn’t immediately clench. I was feeling pretty good about that.
Until Tuesday night.
Tuesday night I dreamed that we were in the state where Chris lives, visiting with him, and a man who was clearly a social worker or someone with DF&ACS told us that within a week, there would be a court hearing where Chris would be placed permanently with us. Then he handed him over to me and I took him in my arms. I felt the warmth and weight of his little body. I smelled his crazy curly hair. I looked into his gorgeous eyes and could not believe it was happening. I remember thinking, “This must be a dream” and the joke was on me ‘cause it WAS a dream. But it seemed so real. I can still close my eyes all these days later and feel what it was like to hold him in my arms.
I woke up so disappointed – not a good way to start the day, by the way – and I really haven’t been able to shake it ever since.
Because here’s the truth . . . I really really want this to happen. Really badly. And I am afraid that it won’t. I'm even afraid of TELLING YOU how much I want this to happen for fear of jinxing any chance we might have. And I don't think that chance is great.
There’s that clench in my stomach again.
There isn’t much we can do at this point – one of the most frustrating aspects of this situation. But O and I may have come up with something. We think it might help for us to road trip to Chris and Amy’s state to meet with Chris’ social worker and the adoption worker who doesn’t want him to be placed out of state.
We’d like for them to meet us, and to see that we’re not flaky people.
We’d like to hand them our home study, scrapbook, and approval letter.
We’d like to look them in the eye and have a conversation.
We’d also like to see if we can get some answers.
They seem to want Amy to see the process through to the end, which I can understand, but that end will most likely be TPR – and most likely sooner rather than later. TPR could be granted any time she steps into court, and *poof*, she’ll walk out with absolutely no say regarding what happens to her son. So I think it’s important for DF#ACS to really understand Amy’s wishes and agree now to place him with us even if the case does go to TPR.
We’ll find out today if Amy wants to set up that meeting and be a part of it. Let’s hope she thinks it's a good idea and that we can get something scheduled soon. The next court date is looming.
And then night comes. And you remember just how NON-BREEZY you are.
I had a couple of girlfriends visit for several days over the July 4th weekend. It was exactly what I needed – day after day of good conversation and a ridiculous amount of laughter. I rarely even thought about the situation with Amy and Chris and when I did, my stomach didn’t immediately clench. I was feeling pretty good about that.
Until Tuesday night.
Tuesday night I dreamed that we were in the state where Chris lives, visiting with him, and a man who was clearly a social worker or someone with DF&ACS told us that within a week, there would be a court hearing where Chris would be placed permanently with us. Then he handed him over to me and I took him in my arms. I felt the warmth and weight of his little body. I smelled his crazy curly hair. I looked into his gorgeous eyes and could not believe it was happening. I remember thinking, “This must be a dream” and the joke was on me ‘cause it WAS a dream. But it seemed so real. I can still close my eyes all these days later and feel what it was like to hold him in my arms.
I woke up so disappointed – not a good way to start the day, by the way – and I really haven’t been able to shake it ever since.
Because here’s the truth . . . I really really want this to happen. Really badly. And I am afraid that it won’t. I'm even afraid of TELLING YOU how much I want this to happen for fear of jinxing any chance we might have. And I don't think that chance is great.
There’s that clench in my stomach again.
There isn’t much we can do at this point – one of the most frustrating aspects of this situation. But O and I may have come up with something. We think it might help for us to road trip to Chris and Amy’s state to meet with Chris’ social worker and the adoption worker who doesn’t want him to be placed out of state.
We’d like for them to meet us, and to see that we’re not flaky people.
We’d like to hand them our home study, scrapbook, and approval letter.
We’d like to look them in the eye and have a conversation.
We’d also like to see if we can get some answers.
They seem to want Amy to see the process through to the end, which I can understand, but that end will most likely be TPR – and most likely sooner rather than later. TPR could be granted any time she steps into court, and *poof*, she’ll walk out with absolutely no say regarding what happens to her son. So I think it’s important for DF#ACS to really understand Amy’s wishes and agree now to place him with us even if the case does go to TPR.
We’ll find out today if Amy wants to set up that meeting and be a part of it. Let’s hope she thinks it's a good idea and that we can get something scheduled soon. The next court date is looming.
Monday, July 5, 2010
Life is Good
There is nothing better to take your mind off of your seemingly-stalled quest to adopt than a wonderful July 4th spent with some of the people you love most in the world. Life is good.
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