The Day She Became Mine

For those that read my last blog post and responded with prayer - I thank you from the bottom of my heart.  God has spoken to me SO much the past two weeks and has shown me His unfailing, undying love and care for me.  Thank you for your prayers for my weak heart; they were heard.

I love shopping.  Especially sales.  And thrift stores.  On Monday of last week I took a couple hours off and spent some much-needed time with my husband.  The first stop was Cracker Barrel (one of my favorite places - food and shopping combined!!!) They were having a 75% off sale on select clothing.  I saw this adorable onesie that was completely girlified with pink ruffles and a ruffled hedgehog on the front.  It was on sale for $2! I couldn't resist.  I had to buy it.  Last Saturday Ray and I had some foster parent training and were released early, so we stopped by the Thrift Store in Plano to get Micah some clothes.  I was rummaging through the miscellaneous baggies of different parts and pieces and came across an adorable little purse baby rattle, still in the package.  It was $3.  But I hesitated.  Fear passed through my veins.  Why, you ask?

Because if I buy something specifically for her (other than the necessities), I'm taking a risk.
The risk that I'll get attached.
The risk that I'll get attached and have to let her go tomorrow.
The risk that my heart will be broken.
Yes, true fear came over me when I considered buying the rattle.  Truthfully, I haven't bought anything for baby A that wasn't a necessity up until this point.  All the clothes I have for her were donated; they hold no sentimental aspect for me.

But that onesie...that rattle...spending a measly $5 for baby A...that made her mine.

I would never have given a second thought to buying Micah a toy similar to that when he was a baby.  Because I knew he wasn't going anywhere.  I knew he wouldn't be moving to someone else's house.  I knew he wouldn't be taken away.  I treasured every moment (and still do) with my Micah.  Because he's mine.  He's my only son.  I carried him for nine months and sang to him daily.  He's a part of me and always will be.

I didn't carry baby A for nine months.  I didn't even know her name until she showed up at my front door.  But since day one she's had a connection with me.  From that first smile she gave me, I knew it.

She may not be mine forever.  I may have to let her go tomorrow.  But for today - she's mine.  She's my daughter.  And the joy that brings me is indescribable.

Thank you for your prayers, friends.  This ministry is a very hard one.  But I'm thankful for the joy that God has provided.

"Then he said unto them, Go your way, eat the fat, and drink the sweet, and send portions unto them for whom nothing is prepared: for this day is holy unto our Lord: neither be ye sorry; 

for the joy of the LORD is your strength." 

Nehemiah 8:10

Just Breathe.

There's a little shop in down town McKinney called The Stalk.  I stopped there briefly on my way to get the kids from daycare because it's been on my "I want-I should" list for a while.  I bought myself some Stargazer Lilies (my favorite) just because.  They're starting to bloom now.  They're fragrance is heavenly.

Got to see my husband for 30 minutes today when he came home for his lunch break.  I still get all giddy when I see him.

Spent some time outside to *finally* refill the bird feeders (it's been about three months).  Also made some more hummingbird nectar and some suette for the Blue Jays.  I love watching those giant blue birds in my backyard.  They're mean little buggers, but so pretty to look at.

I loved getting my feet wet and letting my hair get all frizzy outside.  Its refreshing to feel the cool rain drizzle on my toes.  I relished in being outside, carrying on my grandfather's legacy by caring for nature.  He loved birds (sold exotic water fowl for a living).  I remember him waking up at dawn to go feed the ducks, geese, and peacocks.  Of course there was always something for the little guys too.  Some of the feeders he used are still being used by my parents today.

It's far too infrequent that I sit back and just enjoy the things God has given me.  A cool breeze; a head full of (thin) hair; a balanced budget that just seems to work (against all odds).  A wonderful husband.  A sweet smart boy to call my son.  So many things to be thankful for.  Grateful for.  I just need to slow down and breathe it all in.

grateful:

adjective

1.

warmly or deeply appreciative of kindness or benefits received;thankful.

Fragmented thoughts of a foster mom

Some days are just hard. 

Some days I find it's harder to love her. I don't remember if I felt that wat about Micah. Like it was decades ago that he was a baby or something. 

Some days I honestly question why God led us to this place. Maybe He just made a mistake. He should have chosen somebody else. I don't have enough patience or endurance for this. 

But I know God doesn't make mistakes. 

It's just been one of those days. 

She starts screaming half an hour before her scheduled feeding time. Do I buckle down and feed her, or do I make her wait? And if I feed her early, will she wake up early? I honestly would prefer to sleep past 7:00am tomorrow. 

I'm a speech pathologist. I do feeding therapy with kids 0-3. I should know these things. 

But it doesn't come naturally when they are "your" kids. It just doesn't. 

Maybe it's just the CCMS drama that's causing so much stress in my life. When you get a foster care subsidy and the ENTIRE THING goes to child care, it's harder. At least with our last placement (two boys with fetal alcohol syndrome), I could come to the end of my day and say, "I made $25 for putting up with your crap today." Sorry. Brutal truth there. 

But I shouldn't think about the money. That's not why we started all of this. Maybe I just don't like buying clothes and diapers and doing free babysitting for someone else's kid. Is that outrageous? Maybe I just don't love enough. I don't have enough of Gods spirit in me. Certainly anyone who had God in their heart would never feel that way, right? 

Again with my patience. What was God thinking? I just don't understand. Not that I'm supposed to know everything. If I did, I wouldn't need God in the first place. 

I just need a massage. I need to sit on my rear and not think about anything. Not about cleaning the house. Or laundry. Or the leftover candy Nerds that are probably all over my kitchen floor. I need to do my nails again. Not that there's a point in doing them. I need a housekeeper so I don't have to worry about chipping my nails by doing housework. But I don't want someone else cleaning my house. What if they do it wrong? I love cleaning. It's a good stress reliever. And I obviously have some of that. 

How do stay at home foster moms put up with it all? Are their kids easier? They probably just love them more. I just feel like a babysitter. And I'm ready for the parents to come home so I can leave. What a horrible thing to say. 

Are all ministries this difficult? It's amazing we have any missionaries at all. If telling people in Africa about Jesus is anything like foster care, I'd be horrible at it. Most days I feel like a horrible foster mom. And maybe I am. Certainly a good foster mom wouldn't be so impatient or critical. A good missionary should be happy to do Gods work all the time, not just when it's easy. But that doesn't sound reasonable either. 

It's just hard, and I need a break. I'm ready for baby A to move on. I'd probably miss her if she left though. Any good foster mom should miss the kids when they leave, right? But I don't miss our last placement. At. All. 

It seems like I only feel this way when I'm about to start my period. Stupid hormones. Why should I have a period when I'm not going to have any more kids? I definitely still do NOT want to be pregnant. That wasn't fun. Hormones. It's kinda fun to say that word with a Spanish accent. Like hor-mo-nes! Dork. I need to watch something funny. Laughter is the best medicine. And we all deserve a good laugh once a day, I think. 

So when life hands you lemons, make lemonade. All I have in my fridge is limes though. Limemade, maybe? With lots of sugar. Maybe Splenda. It has fewer calories after all. 😉