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. 😉

Who needs two bladders, anyways?

No matter the situation, I always try to find a little humor.  That explains the title.

Last weekend I was a little puzzled as to why I didn't have much of an appetite - not even for my homemade chocolate chip cookies that I made.  On Sunday I stayed home with Micah because he was running a fever - and I ended up taking TWO naps that day and still felt exhausted.  Monday was fine, but still no appetite.  On Tuesday I was at the office in the afternoon and started having what I thought were gas pains.  Took some gas-x, but the pain got worse and worse.  I had to go home early and called Ray to get off work to go pick up the kids.  The pain was SO horrible I couldn't even stand up straight.  I almost went to the emergency room but waited to see if the pain subsided - and it did.  On Wednesday I felt like I had been run over by a semi.  I was weak.  I was dizzy.  Still no appetite.  I just felt ill.  Thursday was better; didn't really have pain until the afternoon when I (finally) went to see the doctor.  My doctor had imminent concern about my gall bladder - which is what I figured it was.  He tried to get a sonogram completed that day, but wasn't able to schedule anything until Friday morning.  The lady that completed my sonogram pushed on my side until I thought I would burst - it hurt so bad!!!

Of course - like just about all my health issues - all the blood work and the sonograms of my abdomen came back NORMAL.  But my doctor (who actually called me himself to share the results) is still convinced it's my gallbladder.  He advised that I go on a clear liquid diet (basically fast for two days, drinking only water) to see if that helps.  He really wanted me to go to the ER for further testing and see if surgery would be appropriate this weekend - but I was able to sneak away with fasting for two days and checking back in on Monday.

So here I am - still no appetite (which makes fasting easier), and the pain is just as bad as it was yesterday.  No difference.  Thankfully I'm still able to function, but can't lift anything heavy (like a Mr. Micah).  My mom informed me that Sjogren's can cause chronic gall bladder disease.

This year has been a doozy as far as my health and stress levels go.  I've been trying these past two weeks to schedule time off from work - and it looks like my scheduling didn't mean anything if I have to have emergency surgery.  Bah.  I'm just hoping I'll be well enough to do the music for vacation Bible school on the 11th.  Only God could make that happen!

I know I'm in His hands.  I know that whatever He's doing right now is for my good.  Yes, I'm in pain - even more pain than usual.  But I know He'll use this to bring Him glory and honor and to help others in the future.  I'm so grateful I have His promises to hold onto no matter what organs I have to give up.

"And he said unto me, My grace is sufficient for thee: for my strength is made perfect in weakness. Most gladly therefore will I rather glory in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me." 

2 Corinthians 12:9

Six weeks in

It's be quite some time since I've posted much about anything.  Baby A has been with us for just over six weeks now.  I hope I never forget the night she came to us.  Ray put her in the baby swing as we filled out paperwork with CPS.  Her arms were flailing the entire time she was in that swing.  It was clear she had never been in one before.  She couldn't process the movement.  I offered a pacifier repeatedly, but she couldn't keep it in her mouth.  She would often cry frantically until she wore herself out - and nothing would stop the crying but herself alone.

The day after we got her was Wednesday, and I (as a brave soul) took her to church.  I had nursery duty that night, so I was able to stay in the nursery with her - as if that could have helped anything! Close to the end of service she started to lose it.  I offered a bottle - pacifier - swaddling - diaper change - everything I could think of, and nothing worked.  She had a GINORMOUS meltdown for the whole church to hear.  I admit I lost it too and started crying.  All I could think to do was hold her arms to midline, hold a pacifier in her mouth, and "shhhh" loudly in her ear.  After a few minutes of eternity, she calmed down.

The first three to four weeks are the hardest.  It took us a while to get to know each other; to get into a routine; to establish our patterns.  But baby A has made amazing progress since being with us.  For example:

1. She can hold herself up in a supported sit for about five minutes.
2. She can do tummy time for 30-45 minutes at a time. 
3. She's responding (and calming) to her name.  
4. She'll calm and stop crying when I walk in the room.  
5. She's holding her own bottle (with a little bit of help here and there).  
6. She's rolling onto her sides from her back.  
7. She can fall asleep by herself and hardly ever fusses.  
8. She doesn't need a pacifier - and often spits one out ;)
9. She will smile and drool all over you if given the chance.  
10. She's sleeping through the night (!!!!) 

I ask for deep, DEEP prayers for her mother.  I don't know her name and I've never seen her face; but I know she loves and misses her baby (certainly?) She hasn't made a single visit with baby A since she's been with us, but today she actually showed up at the CPS office for one!  It had to be rescheduled because baby A was in daycare - so hopefully mom will show up again tomorrow morning.  PLEASE pray for baby A's mom - that she'll get things in order - that God will restore the natural affection and responsibility she should have for her children.  

We've been asked frequently if we'll adopt baby A if it ever comes to that - and if God sees fit, we most certainly will!  Everything is in His hands and He is in control.  We've had a name picked out for years (even before we had kids) for a baby girl - either McKayla Joy or McKayla Christine.  Ray has always wanted a daughter named McKayla; and the middle name comes from a promise I made 15+ years ago to Joy (Bailey) Smith to name one of my kids after her.  I may not keep all promises, but I honestly intend to keep that one! 

God is in control.  He has lead us here.  He lead baby A to our home to bring us joy and remind me how much work a baby is (I asked for it, I know).  I hope we'll get to see her grow more and more; but I honestly hope more that mom will be able to get her back and stay on track.  After all - every mom, every dad - should be responsible for holding that title to its fullest extent.  Baby A is meant to be with her mommy; but if she isn't able, we will gladly step up in a heartbeat.  

Empathy with Baby A

I'm starting to see a trend with this whole foster business.

When we get a new placement, I honestly feel like everything else has to go on hold.  I find myself dreading going out in public because I honestly have NO IDEA how this certain child will do in public.

Unfortunately, life doesn't stop when you're a full-time-working foster mom.
Groceries still need to be purchased.
The church nursery still needs its worker.
Errands still need to be completed.
Dinner still has to be made - and I have to remember to eat.
But its hard.  And it seems like the only people who understand are those who have experienced it themselves - other foster parents.

It's not like having a baby.  People are sweet and compassionate and say, "congratulations!" But truly, its just
Hard.
And yes, I meant to capitalize the "H" there.

I didn't have nine months to bond with this baby.  She had never heard my voice until Tuesday.  I don't know how much she likes to eat - how often she used to be fed.  I don't know what position she likes to sleep in. Does she like a certain type of pacifier? (apparently so!) And it's become certain that she has NO control over her arms and legs when she gets upset.  Those limbs go crazy! And she can't calm herself down.

Day by day, it gets easier.  But when the baby screams her head off in the checkout lane at Kroger, I honestly just want to stick myself in the darkest hole and forget about it all.  Because people just don't understand.  Thankfully, and by God's grace, a sweet couple helped me out this evening.  Baby A was screaming and refused to take the pacifier.  I couldn't break out a bottle.  I couldn't change her diaper.  It all had to wait until I could pay for the dang groceries.

The older gentleman behind me offered to hold her for me while I paid the cashier.  If only he knew how much that truly meant to me.  He patted her back, told her it was okay.  His empathy made a world of difference for me.

It's so easy to feel so alone in the foster care world.  Because let's face it - you don't know a foster parent when you see one.  It takes the sharing of personal experiences - the opening of a heart - to understand there is someone that understands what I'm going through.

So if you see a young woman with a screaming baby the next time you go to the store - take a deep breath for her.  She needs it.  She needs your compassion.  She needs your empathy.  Just like I did today.  You never know how far a kind gesture will go.

Being a Bridge

The boys will be leaving tomorrow to live with their grandma.  The oldest jumped for JOY when I told him the news on Monday.  This is the fresh start that they've been needing - the one that we've been praying for!  We are so, SO excited for them.

The biggest reaction I get from people is one of, "oh, I'm so sorry!" or "that's so sad!" Our feelings are the exact opposite though! We are thrilled that they will be moving on in such a short period of time.  We hope that the transition to a better life will be an easy one for them.

But it isn't all cupcakes and roses in the foster world.

Part of the reasoning in our feelings is because it has been a HARD and challenging six weeks with our family of five.  Some think that having two foster kids and one bio kid is just like having three children that are yours.  But I've got to tell you - it is SO far from being the same.  In the "typical" way of having children, you have about nine months to bond with your baby - to sing to them in the womb, to get their room ready, to dream and dream about the life they will share with you.  Having foster children is nothing like that.  In both of our placements so far we were minding our own business, get a phone call, and two hours later have two more children to care for.  No idea what they like to eat.  No idea what allergies they have.  No idea what they like to wear.  If they've ever brushed their own teeth.  Ever been to the doctor.  Are they wearing underwear?  Scratch that - WHY aren't they wearing underwear?! Living a life that we know and are comfortable with, then caring for two complete strangers for an un-designated period of time. Foster care is HARD and it is STRESSFUL.  Especially for the newbies like myself.

With that in mind - I've been asked several times if we'll do the same thing again.  If we'll be open for the same thing or change our preferences now that we have gotten our feet wet.  At first my answer was to change our preferences - but foster care isn't about my comfort.  It isn't about us period.  It's about the children.

My Ray said it so appropriately  - "don't think about how hard it is for us; think about how hard it would be for them if we weren't here."

So.  True.  

So here we are.  I'm sure the house will be a TON quieter tomorrow.  I might get a little sentimental, but I'm trying not to be.  Keeping my focus - moving forward.  We will take a little break, then request to be put back on the openings list.  Then, we wait again.  Hopefully, this time for a GIRL that will steal my heart forever.

God has lead us here.  We are not alone.  He has brought us through the past six weeks.  God has helped us be the bridge that these boys needed when no one else would take them in.  Foster kids NO MORE.  And hopefully, with God's grace - never, ever again.