This is a sad one

Charred corpse

Dumpster

Burned beyond recognition

dental records

 Remains Identified 

 25-year-old woman

No fixed address

criminal record

One-year-old daughter

These words are the eulogy of a life snuffed out far too soon.

Her body was discovered a month before they knew it was her. Her life was stolen from her for many years before she died.

Resilient--as humans tend to be--she survived poverty, divorce, abandonment, foster care, abuse upon abuse, addiction, homelessness and a system that all but forgot her.

She had a baby girl who changed my life.

 (She was once a baby girl, too...)

Her laugh was precious, a treasure shining through cracks of a broken life.

She was sweet, so eager to please, so willing to learn, so impressionable.

Maybe too impressionable.

She was taken advantage of. She abused her own body because so many others had.

She made wrong choices, but who among us doesn't.

She saw a chance for new life in her baby girl's eyes.

She told me of her dreams of getting better, moving home, getting married, having more babies. A little brother maybe for the baby girl.

Suddenly, because she had a child, the system was interested in her well-being. And for the first time, it actually helped her.

But the system cannot give deliverance. The system cannot give healing. The system cannot make new.

Only One can.

I hope with every bit of my broken heart that she met Him before she left.

I took her to church, prayed for and with her, told her that God could help her, that He loved her.

I hoped for a permanent change in her life. She wanted it so badly, was so determined, so in love.

Now her ashes lie in a cold case. Her name strewn about, tied to a mug shot that hides such neglected beauty.

My tears are hot and bitter, burning my cheeks.

My stomach is a mess of knots.

My baby girl smiles at me. 

(She's used to seeing me cry.)

How could they? How could her parents not do everything in their power to protect her? How do you bring a life into the world and abandon it? How do you steal someone's innocence? How do you supply drugs and alcohol to someone's baby girl? How do you put someone's body in a dumpster and set it on fire?

In the place of judgement,

Wickedness was there;

And in the place of righteousness, 

Iniquity was there.

(Ecc 3:16)

And worse, the questions burning in my heart!

Why didn't I call her more often? Why didn't I insist more persuasively that she come stay with me? Why didn't I answer the phone when I saw it was her? Why was I too tired or busy to watch her baby, to deal with her? What words (Words?) could I have said to help her choose to stay in rehab and off the streets?

No.

I know it's not my fault. Not directly. I could've done all of the above and the outcome might not have changed.

But yes.

Yes, in the sense that I have lived willfully ignorant of the person behind that mug shot. She is on the news in every city. Her deaths unsolved, unimportant. She lives and works on streets all over the world, even mine. I drive by or change the channel and think how blessed I am.

I hope her baby girl will someday know how much her mommy loved her. How much she was wanted. I hope she will know how much God loves her.

This, I know I can help with. This story, I will tell her.

I hope my baby girl will someday know how much God loves that person behind the mug shot, that woman of no fixed address. I pray she will never hesitate to reach out in love to those around her.

This, too, I know I will have a hand in. Because my baby girl will only know it if she sees me live it out. And that's what I will do.

Rest in peace, my friend. You changed my life, and I will never forget yours.

(To read more about Baby F and her mom, E, you can either go to the 2010 Archives and read February's blogs, or go to the Label section and click on "Baby F." She is currently in the custody of her mom's cousin, and has been for the better part of the year. She is in very good hands and we hope she stays there for a long time to come.)

(Tomorrow's blog is much, much cheerier!)

(Can't think of a creative title for these joys tonight)

Although I could tell you a long story about each of these joys, I'm striving for brevity tonight. Here we go:

17) I finished a book! Not a baby/parenting book like perhaps I should, but a very good book nonetheless. The kind where you stay up late and wake up early to live in a world painted beautifully with words. If you've read this one (Life of Pi), I'd love to discuss it with you! If you haven't, I recommend you do!

18) Some of these will be Blueberry's, some will be baby shower gifts. I love finding cute, unique gifts and I do believe these will be that gift for the slew of babies coming in 2011!

19) Another package of gifts for others that arrived in the mail. A colorful handmade item, designed by a college friend, that helps keep both the earth and houses clean.

20) I sometimes feel like I should wear a badge on my big belly. I want something that explains I'm not just another pregnant woman, but one who waited and waited for this and sometimes often wondered if it was ever going to happen. This weekend I went to an annual Christmas party filled with friends who need no such explanation. Everyone is excited for us now, but these are the friends who stood with us then.

21) We are ever so slowly cleaning the "just throw it there" pit that has been our office. I found and developed an old, disposable camera. What a delight to find pictures from a family trip in January of 2005. It was easy to find joy in the pictures which froze my sweet nephews in time (this is Grandpa Walter with Yasha and little Josiah peeping in the corner). There was also one of me in rare look-amazing-in-a-two-piece shape. I remember my Poppo sneaking us little kids back to his closet to show us a picture of our Grandma in a bathing suit in her younger years. He was so proud of his hottie wife. Now I have photographic evidence for John to show our own grandkids someday!

22) This past week I've learned that four friends are newly pregnant. Two friends IRL who were trying for their second, and two blogger buddies who were trying even longer than I did. This is the early, hold-your-breath, pray, cherish each day kind-of-joy. Grow, babies, grow!

23) Another badge I wish I could wear sometimes is one that explained that though Blueberry is our first child, s/he is also our fourth. Our first two, Baby F and Baby Z, garnered several bags of pink and blue items from my mom-friends. This weekend, I sorted them, thankful for the friendships, experience and even the heartache of having these babies in our lives. Bittersweet joy indeed.

24) I am so happy to be in touch with our third child, Boy D's, aunt, with whom he currently lives. She sent me his school picture with a glowing report that he is gaining weight, doing well in school and loves going to church! 

(Sorry, no photos for these yet)

25) The holiday cards and newsletters are coming every day! You may remember that this is my favorite thing about Christmas.

26) I accepted help! A new friend from my church's women's group offered to come clean my house, bring me food or go to Ikea for me. I'm taking her up on the Ikea offer and we have a shopping date this week. Yes, I probably should've let her come help me clean, but I'm taking baby steps here!

I've linked up with the other 100 Joys blogs today. If you can't get enough joys here, click the 100 Joys icon on the left to see what others are writing about (linked at the bottom of Sarah's blog today).

Dawn Love

My senior year at ORU, I had the honor of being a Resident Advisor (in Braxton, 3M, "Commissioned" at the time, if you care). Our dean of women was Dawn Hoskey. She would become one of the most influential people ever in my life and I still love her madly to this day.

Her niece, Jessica, was an RA in our dorm that year, and it worked out well for our dorm group that Dean Dawn also lived in an apartment in our dorm. I like to think our Braxton group was her favorite because we got to spend all sorts of quality time with her. That's probably why I'm such an awesome person today, because of all of Dawn's love and mothering of us.

Now that I'm 12 years out of ORU and life has changed dramatically for both of us, I have so enjoyed getting to know her as a friend. I think we're probably related somehow, too. She rides Harleys (she's the sales manager at Myers-Duren Harley in Tulsa, so if you need a bike, go see her!) and has a goddaughter at the same special school my nephew, Solo, goes to. And just recently, she became a foster mom.

(Dawn, with her goddaughter, Morgan)

I used to say that I wouldn't get married until Dean Dawn did. She was so awesome and I thought I could convince God to bring her a husband sooner if I offered to hold off on mine. Well, God doesn't work that way, fortunately (for me and John), and though His ways are a mystery, they are good. She doesn't blog, but sends out a monthly email called "Friday Evening Ponderings" to her favorite people. She agreed to let me use last week's as a blog post, making her my first guest blogger.

Enjoy!
----------------------------

This past Monday, I made my way to a shopping mall in pursuit of a special clothing purchase.  I don’t really care for clothes shopping these days, and quite frankly, I’d be perfectly happy to never step foot into the mall again.   But on this occasion, I was pretty excited to begin the hunt for a garment that would hold special meaning.

                  With Baby M in tow, I made my way through the likes of JC Penney, Dillards, and Macy’s.  Dress shopping is never easy for me, but I was determined to continue my search until I’d found what I wanted.   Sure enough, after several unsuccessful fittings of various dresses, I happened upon a two-piece suit that screamed my name.  The fit was perfect.  Thrilled with my find, I made my way to the check-out counter.  The sales associate rang up my purchase and as she placed a garment bag over the suit, she asked, “What’s the occasion?”

                  “A wedding," I replied.   And then, without giving it a second thought, I proudly announced, “Actually, I’m a first time Mother of the Bride!”

                  Mother of the Bride.   These are words I would never have imagined saying in reference to myself, yet, there they were.  A moment later, the impact of this realization caused my heart to swell with a form of happiness I’ve never known.

                  Now, before you think I’ve lost my marbles or that I’m suddenly revealing a hidden aspect of my life, let me explain.  My lovely niece, Jessica, will walk down the aisle one week from tonight.  While all of my nieces and nephews are near and dear to me, I hold a unique relationship with Jessica due to the way our lives have intertwined.   She has been very present in my life for her entire 31 years, and I in hers.   She lived with me two different times while attending ORU and has been subject to my “mothering” on many occasions.   There has never been, nor will there ever be a time, when I will not feel that she is, in fact, my child.  

                  So, when she became engaged and started to make wedding plans, she asked her “real” mother (my sister, Mary), if she would be o.k. with sharing the “Mother of the Bride” title with me.  Being the wonderful big sister that she is, Mary agreed.  And just like that, a hidden longing of my heart became a dream come true.

                  Many years ago, a young man named Anthony approached me during a chapel service at ORU.  He felt impressed to share a specific passage of scripture with me, and to encourage me with something he felt in his heart, which was a knowing that I would indeed be a mother one day.  At the time, I found hope in the words he spoke and even kept a written record of them in my Bible.  But as time marched on, and my dreams of marriage, children and family remained unfulfilled, I grew angry with God.  Actually, I became quite cynical and suspicious in regard to scripture.  While I remained fairly confident that the promises in the Bible could be valid, I simply concluded that they were not meant for me.  After years of waiting, it had become obvious that God wasn’t interested in granting me the desires of my heart.

                  Or so I thought.

                  The passage that Anthony shared with me on that day is found in Isaiah 54, verses 1-2:

“Sing, O barren woman, you who never bore a child; burst into song and shout for joy, you who were never in labor, because more are the children of the desolate woman than of her who has a husband, says the Lord.  Enlarge the place of your tent, stretch your tent curtains wide, do not hold back; lengthen your cords, strengthen your stakes.”

                  As I walked out of the store on Monday, I caught a reflection of myself in a pane of glass.  In that refection, I saw a woman, who, with one hand, was pushing a stroller, which held a beautiful baby girl, and with the other hand, was holding her “Mother of the bride” suit.  Instantly, the memory of Anthony’s words from all those many years ago flooded my mind and heart.  At that moment, I not only realized who I am to Jessica and Baby M, but to the dozens and dozens of other children, both grown and young, who consider me as their mother.  And with that, came a piercing awareness that was undeniable and profound … God had not forgotten me.

  I AM a mother.  And though I am not mothering in the way I hoped I would, I am a mother, all the same.  I did not arrive at this place in accordance with my own plans.  The road I traveled to get here is not even close to the one I thought I’d take.  I could NEVER have calculated this journey, even if I were given a thousand years to do so.  I have children, not in the way I thought I would, but in the way God planned.  All along the way, God has been positioning my careers, my friends, and my encounters, causing them to line up with an extraordinary harmony that has made the seemingly impossible, possible.

When God says, “I know the plans I have for you … plans to prosper you … plans to give you hope and a future," He really does mean it.  It might not feel like it at times, but it doesn’t make it any less true. 

Tonight, I want to encourage you to sing out with joy … to enlarge the place of your dwelling and to not hold back on what you’ve been holding as the desire of your heart.  God hears you … He knows what you long for.  Do not grow faint, but trust that your life, like mine, will fall into order as it should. 

“Hope deferred makes the heart sick, but a longing fulfilled is a tree of life.”  -  Proverbs 13.12

(found at alexandersmithdesign.net)

Thank you, Dawn. I love you!

I'm Proud

I'm proud of my husband. Friday was a tough day for me and he put on his hero cape and made it all better.

By noon, Boy D had managed to push every single one of my buttons by breaking ALL of the few, simple rules we have established for his benefit. Don't go downstairs without an adult, don't open the doors without an adult, don't touch things that aren't yours, we only pee in the potty, and the toilet paper goes in the potty, not the trashcan.

So, you can do the math and figure out why I broke down and decided we needed a leather couch. Between the constant battle with Mocha hair, baby spit-up and little kid "messes", it just was the best option.

John has wanted a leather couch since we got married, so before my tale of woe of the horrible day was over, he was online, finding deals. And what a deal he found!

He found this $750 leather couch for $250 in DC, just a few blocks away from our church. He talked the owner down to $200, rounded up some friends to help move it up and our old couch down, and had our old couch on Craigslist and sold by Sunday night (don't worry, I had it dry cleaned and de-messed)! And sold for $250 no less!

Did I mention the hero cape?

I will also add that I'm pretty proud of myself. On Friday, which was a pretty tough day if I didn't mention that, I actually planned for the week ahead. I knew I'd be going back to work for a 3-week Reserve tour on Tuesday and I'm no good at doing meals while I'm working if I don't plan for it. So, I made a meal plan and a shopping list, went to the local farmers market to buy fresh produce and the grocery store for everything else, and along the way decided to stop and vacuum the car while caring lovingly for a little boy who was pushing all my buttons.

Oh, it doesn't stop there! Between Friday and Sunday, I also prepared 4 meals, including a ratatouille and butternut squash soup I learned how to make in my cooking class. Both turned out delicious! I am so proud!

Maybe I should get my own little hero cape. Hmmm... On second thought, that plus the little horn I'm tooting might be a bit much!

How was your weekend?

PS. As for Boy D, we have a good wonderful friend who is going to come watch him starting tomorrow while I'm at work. His social worker is pretty confident that the paperwork to get him to his aunt's house will be finished by Thursday. If you pray, please pray for no glitches and that this little guy can go be with family soon!

New Chapter

We started going to a new church about 3 months ago and have really been enjoying it. (I started this blog post 3 days ago and this is as far as I got. Not the best at multi-tasking right now!)


Last weekend, the sanctuary was getting worked on, so we had service in the park. Saturday night, a bunch of people from the church decided to camp in the park. We took Boy D, Mocha, a Jeep jammed with supplies and headed out.

We met tons of awesome new people. Well, I guess we're the new people, but still. We had been at our last church for almost 8 years and are still very close with alot of the people there and we love those pastors dearly, so we were praying for good connections and bonding with this new group. Prayers were answered!

It's interesting being the new people, though. And it's really interesting being the new people with a kid that nobody has seen you at church with and yet still looks kindof like you. With the babies, it was pretty obvious they weren't ours, and of course everyone at our last church knew about our "situation." The folks at the new church don't know the "us" who waited for years for a child. They just know the us with a baby on the way and a 5-yr-old foster child.

I loved watching and experiencing this Body embrace us and Boy D (and Mocha). I loved telling about our journey from infertility to foster care to now, loved sharing God's faithfulness and opening the door for hearing others' testimonies. It seemed that every other person had an experience with foster care and adoption, either their parents had done it when they were kids or it was a goal of theirs for their future.

It was sweet, too, watching Boy D taking pride and ownership of Mocha. She had basically adopted him, sleeping outside his door instead of ours and often I will find her cradling him and licking him like he is her puppy. She whines if he gets out of her line of sight too far and when he is upset, she gets anxious. So, at the campground, when the other kids would stop by to pet or admire her, Boy D jumped in to tell them all about her and encourage them to not be scared. I am so glad these two have each other!

Another thing that's been sweet to watch is the relationship with D and John. He thrives under male attention and John is so good at pouring it on. He has D help him with the Jeep and other manly chores and enthusiastically listens to his retelling of Thomas the Train's adventures. Every day. Some have mentioned (rightly so, I think) that they resemble each other.

(I think it's the ears!)

In closing, as challenging as this placement has been for me with the non-stop demands of a 5-yr-old boy and his emotional fragility, I am thankful for this new chapter in our lives. Nothing about our lives now would be as meaningful if it hadn't been for everything that's gone before and I know even now we are being readied for what's up ahead.

No closing question here, you have the night off. Feel free to comment, though!

An (un)invited heartache

Today was a little hard. It was hard for Boy D and it was hard for his parents. It was hard for me, too, but I'm not the point.

Taking care of this little guy has been a whole different set of joys and heartaches. For the past week, the hardest part of the day is bedtime. That's when he starts crying and asking for his mommy and daddy. A few nights ago, I thought it might help him to talk to them at bedtime, but the one night we tried it, it was even worse.

It's hard to hear him cry over a circumstance we can't do anything to make better. It's hard to hear his parents cry over a circumstance they can make better, but not on their own. So, we went back to talking to them after dinner when he's happy.

I took him for the first family visit today, where we met with his mom and dad at the county center. Although they seemed hesitant to talk to me at first, at the end of the visit, it seemed they opened up more. It's hard because they seem so ashamed, and I'm not exactly sure how to help them with that. So, I just kept things positive and raved about their son. We had made them cookies that he decorated and a card with some pictures in it from his week so far. He was very excited to give them these gifts, and they brought some of his clothes and toys and movies from home, so that was all good.

But this good thing came to an end, and they walked him out to my car. When he realized he was going with me and not them (even though we all tried to prepare him for it), he lost it. He was also confused about why they were taking the card and the cookies. For the rest of the day, not 20 minutes went by without him saying he wanted to go home and see his mommy and daddy. It was rough.

As for his future, he has an aunt in a neighboring state who has spent alot of time with him and is ready for him to come stay there. His CPS social worker has inferred that his parents, specifically his mom, have deeper issues than the one he was removed for. So, the plan is for him to go to his aunt as soon as the interstate approval process is done. That could be by the end of this week or next. And for his sake, I hope it's just as soon as possible. He needs to be with his family. We can do alot for him, but we can't replace them.

I promise I'll post a cheerier blog tomorrow with pictures from our weekend. I just felt like sharing this piece of the process, because it's much harder than with either of the babies. They warned us about this in our training, so at least we know what to expect. But nobody trains the kids or the parents for this. It just sucks.

Thanks for listening.

Memory Chain

I don't remember most of my life so far. I have journaled (or written in a diary) for as long as I've known how to write. I take lots of pictures, and though I don't scrapbook, I always intend to, so I keep scraps of everything. One of my best friends remembers almost everything we've done together since 1994, but she gets really bad cell phone reception, so she's not always a great resource. So, most of my minutes and days are lost to my subconscious.

I'm thinking about this because I'm sitting here with a five-year-old boy (D) I didn't know existed before Tuesday at 2pm, pondering how my life got here. Here's what I remember.

I remember the house I lived in as a teenager being a haven for all sorts of our friends. It was probably never clean or stocked with enough food, but my brothers' and sister's and my friends seemed to feel at home there. Holiday meals were crowded with these friends of every background, and after I left for college, my bedroom became the rotating hospitality suite for some of these friends. I remember thinking I wanted to have a home like that when I grew up. A place where everyone would be comfortable with an extra bed or couch always ready for someone who needed it.

I remember hearing about short-term missions for the first time when I was 13. It was a cute boy with floppy hair who had just returned from a trip with Teen Mania to Chile and he talked about how the spaghetti sauce there was more like ketchup and what good friends he had made. Convincing enough for me! I went on my first trip to India the next summer and staying inside the U.S. was never again a permanent option for me. Traveling all over the world and falling in love with people in many cultures and religions gave me a bug for having children of all different colors who I wanted to raise with a global mindset.

I remember many late nights in college, dragging pillows and blankets out into the hallway of the dorms to talk with friends, dreaming of our upcoming summer trips and conspiring for world domination once we graduated. One particular summer, I had the privilege to go to Turkey, a unique trip in every way wonderful. One of the wonderful elements was a team member named Chana who also lived on my floor. We had lots of that hallway dreaming time together. Though we had solid plans to keep in touch after I graduated, we had no inkling of what would become another beautiful part of our friendship.

I remember joining the military to continue my world travels. I remember all the beautiful and mysterious steps leading up to meeting my husband through both my college relationships and my military travels. I remember getting out of the military to start that home and family I had dreamed about with said husband. And I remember that family not starting the way I had planned. Many months passed in which I didn't know what I was supposed to be doing, and questioned why I quit my job for what seemed to be nothing.

I remember reading my friend Chana's blog, following her travels with her husband as they served in countries we had dreamed about. I remember her writing honestly about her uneasiness concerning her upcoming trip to China (where her husband was) with her 20-month old and newborn. It was then I knew something I could do. I could help mothers with their children. I sent her one of those "Hi, I know we haven't talked in 10 years, but I read your blog" type of emails and asked if I could travel with them. She said yes, so I did. And spent an awesome 10 days getting reconnected with two very good friends and addicted to Arrested Development, and learning how to soothe a crying newborn. She never lets me forget the difference I made in her life and I'm still trying to convince her it was mutual.

I remember later that summer when my little sister was having her 4th and 5th kids and wondering what I could do to help. Having the China trip fresh in my mind and passport, I knew I could help with her other kids. We eventually had my at-the-time 4 and 6-year-old nephews come stay with us in Virginia for 3 weeks while she adjusted to life with babies. I remember realizing why God usually gives us kids as babies with a generous 9-month lead-in time! I remember the panic when I realized I was responsible for these precious people 24-7 and what in the world was I going to do to keep them busy for 3 weeks! I remember the ache in my heart when they went home and the pillows were back on the couch and the replaceable seat covers had been replaced. John and I decided we wouldn't be too bad as parents after all.

Oh, and that desire to be parents. Still so strong.

I remember even later that year when we heard and followed the call to be foster parents. After all, we had plenty of extra beds for those in need, we wanted to be a place of refuge for people of all backgrounds, we knew the blessing of helping other families, we wanted to eventually adopt and we had very jumponable couch pillows. We based the age range (newborn to 7) we were open to on the age range we knew. The age ranges I knew because of the days spent helping other mothers. Because I had the time because I didn't have a job or a baby of my own.

And now. Two newborns and a rambunctious Thomas-loving 5-year-old piling pillows on the floor later.

I'm a firm believer that God is always preparing us for the next or future season in life by what we are going through now. I believe that we get better preparation when we're focused on this season (see my last blog). I don't believe these things because of what someone told me or something I read in a blog or a book. I believe it because I'm living it. And these are the pieces of life I'm glad I remember!

Care to share your own story about how the steps of your journey have led you to where you are? I'm all ears (after Boy D goes to bed, of course!).

CBN article

Welcome to any new readers clicking over from the CBN article. Thanks for reading!

For any of my regular readers who don't follow me on FB or Twitter, I did an interview with CBN.com a few months ago and the article was published today. You can go read it here: http://bit.ly/b0eex9.

So, if you're new and interested in reading about our foster care journey, the easiest way to find those blogs is to go over to the labels and click on either foster care, Baby F or Baby Z.

We don't currently have a placement with us, so I don't have much new to write on that topic, but you're welcome to "follow" or subscribe to be in on any news we have about any new babies coming our way.

Thanks again for coming by!

Happy Thursday

We got a wonderful little surprise last night. Baby F's mom called and asked if we could watch her for a few hours so she could get some sleep and some things done around the house. Apparently Baby F has not been a good sleeper lately and her poor mama was worn out.

We were more than happy to do it!

As most kids do, our little ladybug is growing and thriving. She's almost 3 months old now! What was once a gassy or sleepy grin has turned into full fledged smiles and addicting giggles.

So I can't think of a better way to kick off what I hope is "Friday" for most of you or just Thursday, than to share some of the love!

(For those of you a little late to the party, we fostered Baby F for the first  month of her life. You can read all about it in my Feb blogs.)

10-sentence Tuesday

1) I owe you an update on the past few interactions with Baby Z's parents.

2) Friday went much better with brief, but mostly positive, interaction.

3) Sunday and Monday they had appointments to see him but were no-shows. :-(

4) This made me so sad because he is too precious to be stood up.

5) It was hard to drop him off at his new respite-mom's house on Monday night, but I know I will get him back in two weeks.

6) Today I put on my uniform and started my tour in the Air Force Reserves at Andrews Air Force Base.

7) For the next two weeks, I'll be working on the Joint Service Open House, otherwise known as the Andrews Airshow, which is May 15&16.

8) If you're in the DC area (or can come here), you should come because it's free and so much fun!!

9) Questions count as sentences.

10) What have you been up to?

My mission today

This is a first, y'all. I'm blogging before I'm usually awake. This must be special!

 I'm only gonna take a minute here, so please forgive the hurried nature.

Today, I'm meeting with Baby Z's parents again. After our last meeting, my social worker said she almost cried at the way I was treated. I've been praying for them all week and I'm determined that even if it goes poorly again, I will respond in love.

This is my mission today. To be poured out and broken for this family. To show them God's love like they've never seen.  I believe God placed this baby with us so we could be a part of restoring this family to Him.

I've been in some pretty heated "discussions" with people I'm blood-related to, and I still love them and would do anything for them. So that's how I'm going to treat this young mom and dad. (Not get in an argument with them, of course, but show them the "in-spite-of" love.)

I know I'm writing this like it's going to be easy, but I'm writing it precisely because it's not going to be easy. This is the type of situation that would normally make me want to retreat behind a shield and try to get my heart as far away from as possible. But I believe that God made my heart so sensitive because there's something special He wants to do with it.

So I have to believe that as I surrender my heart to Him, He will protect me. I pray that this family sees the goodness of God and is willing to let Him take their hurt and pride in exchange for His peace and love. Will you pray that with me, too?

This is my mission today. What's yours?

10-Sentence Tuesday

Blogging is becoming like scrapbooking to me. Well, I don't actually scrapbook, but I have always meant to. So I keep all these scraps of memorabilia to put in a scrapbook someday, but I have so much to catch up on, I just keep putting it off and keep collecting things.

I feel like these past few days I've just been collecting scraps of things I need to blog about but I haven't had made the time, so I'm gonna experiment with something I'll call 10-Sentence Tuesday.

In no particular order:

1) Baby Z is doing well, although he has some thrush in his mouth and a fungal infection around his "diaper area."

2) This, and other factors made yesterday (Monday) a rough go with his birth parents during both a "Bridging the Gap" meeting and a doctor's appointment.

3) We were able to find some common ground with our tattoos and Native-American backgrounds, but they are still very defensive, confused and broken people.

4) I didn't get into the PhD program I applied for at the University of Maryland, and since I'm not that surprised, I'm still processing why God had me go through the process.

5) With the PhD door closed (for now), I am praying about what my next steps should be for both the immediate and long-term future.

6) It looks like I will spend most of the next 4 months working in a Reserve capacity in the local area.

7) I will be doing two weeks starting next Tuesday at Andrews AFB to help with the annual Joint Service Open House.

8) Baby Z will go into respite for those two weeks, then probably come back to us; if I continue working, he will go into daycare.

9) It also looks like I will take cooking classes at L’Academie de Cuisine in nearby Gaithersburg, MD.

10) John and I are trying to figure out what to do for our 5th anniversary (in August), so suggestions are appreciated.

Well, there you have it. What's going on in your world?

Some movement at last

On Baby Z's first full day with us, he didn't go, um, number two at all. I was a little worried, though I knew some babies don't go all the time, Baby F did every diaper, so that's all I had to go on.

So, I turned to my child-raising village and posted this on Facebook:
Looking for suggestions for non-pooping formula-fed baby. He's always hungry and not acting uncomfortable.

And boy did I get suggestions! Friends said: change the formula, add dark karo syrup to the formula, give him water, give him prune juice, massage his feet with olive oil, stick a thermometer with Vaseline up his you-know-what, don't add dark karo syrup to the formula, put a latex glove filled with warm water on his belly, and don't worry, my baby only poops once a week.

I think somehow this boy knows about my Facebook page, because just when I was about to try some of these methods, he went. And kept going. Now, he's very, very regular, thank you very much. And very gassy. The stink to amount of poop ratio is unreal. Ok, enough poop talk.

I did change his formula yesterday from Simulac to Good Start and he seems to really like it (thanks for the tip, Mombrose!). I also bought some Dr. Brown bottles and a Tommee Tippee bottle, which are high-end brands designed to reduce colic, but I can't tell a huge difference when he drinks from those. He's quite a gulper and the brand that slows him down the best is the Breastflow. I'm learning every day the best techniques for burping and giving him time to digest. And seeing as how he changes from day to day, I have alot to learn! 

After five days, just as I was ready to surrender my schedule for him (3 hours: wake, feed, play, sleep), which worked beautifully with F, and be more sensitive to his natural rhythm, he complied. Just when I was about to go buy him a swing because the vibrating bouncy chair that worked wonders with F wasn't cutting it, he cozied to it. Keeping me on my toes, this one.

In other news, I finally heard from his social worker today and have a slightly clearer picture on his story and immediate future. I have to be really sensitive to what I say here, because this case is going to be very different from our first one. With Baby F, we met her mom, E, right away and started building that relationship. E was also very cooperative and willing to do everything the county asked her. I'm so happy with our friendship. She called me today just to see how Z was doing and we swapped formula/poop/sleep stories. She's doing really well, so keep up your prayers!

One of the only commonalities is that both moms have the same name, so Z's mom will be called E2 here. She is still a teenager and her first baby is a year old. That baby is in her grandma's custody and I was told that's where they are looking to place Z, too. Z's social worker also worked with his half-sister, so she is very familiar with this family. She told me a little of what is going on, but we are meeting in the morning to go over the rest.

When a child is placed in state custody here, they have what is called a 5-day hearing. (Social workers reading this, please correct me if I get this wrong) At that hearing, the child has a lawyer called a guardian ad litem (GAL), and the family has a lawyer. Along with the social workers and CPS workers, they meet with a judge to decide if the child will stay in state custody or return to the family. If they stay, they are officially entered in foster care. 

Z's GAL came on Tuesday to meet him. If he were an older child, the lawyer would interview him, but with Z, he just asked me some questions about his sleeping and eating habits. He was also on Z's older sister's case, and though he didn't say it directly, I gathered this was going to be very "interesting."

Z's 5-day was yesterday, but apparently something was amiss with the family's lawyer, so they are extending the hearing to 30 days. Which means he'll be with us at least that long. Which also means he will probably go into respite for the two weeks I'm doing my Reserve tour. Since we don't know what the outcome of that hearing will be, we don't know how long he'll be with us after that. So, lots of unknowns, but a few more knowns with more to come.

Even with all the drama brewing, the little man and I are having a great time. He is so intense, which translates to louder, more urgent "communication" when he needs something, but also many glorious smiles and his strong little hands always seeking to grab mine. We're soaking up every bit of it!

(Speaking of soaking up, I switched his diaper brand, too. I had been using Pampers, but now they have this new Dry Max, which was causing little bumps and redness on his skin. I read online that this was happening alot, so I knew it wasn't just us. I'm trying Target brand right now, but am open to suggestions.)

Finally, here's the little cutie wearing a little Earth Day green.

Ain't he worth saving the earth for?

Bundle of Blue

With Plumb's "Blink" playing softly in the background and my husband, my dog and the new addition napping on this chilly afternoon, I have a few minutes to write about said new addition.

Two-week old Baby Z came on Friday to stay for a while. I don't know much of his story. The social workers who dropped him off didn't know either, since his actual social worker was in court with a different case and couldn't make it. I'm hoping to find out more from her on Monday. Part of the "fun" of foster care is the ever-unpeeling onion of information about the cases. I'm cautious to even share what I know because it's so spotty and pieced together from different sources, so I don't know what's accurate. Here is what I think is ok to tell you.

He is in foster care, as opposed to the non-custodial respite status of Baby F. That means he is in state custody and is covered by Medicare (or Medicaid, I can't remember which) and we can apply for WIC to buy his formula.

We don't know how long we'll have him, but if he's still with us May 4, he will go into respite with another family since I have to go do two weeks of Reserve time. Remember, babies under six weeks have to stay at home. After that two weeks, if he's still not home with his family, he'll come back to us.

Though I don't know much about his first two weeks of life, here's what I know about him. He is FEISTY! It'll be interesting to see if he's this way naturally or as a survival mechanism, and if he changes the more stable he becomes. He's little; I don't know his birth stats, but they said he was early. He's a busy little guy. Even when he's sleeping, he's twitching and squeaking. He has the best little pouty lip that usually comes out right after a gassy smile. He's scrawny, but strong and very alert to what's going on.

And he's stinking adorable!

Since he's a little darker than we are, I think we'll get a different response in public than we did with Baby F. I've already seen questions in people's eyes, but so far everyone just says he's really cute. I  can only say "Thank you," though I'm thinking, "but I obviously had nothing to do with that!"

I've been experiencing a mix of confidence in my baby skills, thanks to Baby F, 9 nie-neps and years of babysitting, and some minor almost freak-outs, thanks to him being different from all those babies. I have a great community- a village, if you will- of advice-givers to keep me from fully freaking out, so I'm thankful for them. It's fun to post a question on Facebook and see all the various responses I get. It  shows me that there's no one perfect way and no major way I'm gonna mess him up.

In Baby F news, I watched her for the last half of the week as her mom was in a class. It was fun having her here. She's smiling alot and sleeping so much better, a real joy that little one. She had just gone down for a nap when Z came, but her mom came to get her early so we took a picture of them together. She's happy she isn't the smallest one around anymore!

So, what have you been up to this weekend?

The Stubborn Side

This won't come as a surprise to most of you, but I have a very strong stubborn streak. I would say it borders on rebellious, but the Bible says rebellion is like witchcraft, so I'm sticking with stubborn.

I'm sure I'm not the only one who does this. When advised to do something, I want to do (and sometimes do) the opposite, just because I don't want to get told what to do. Funny that I picked a career in the military. Anyway...

The most recent manifestation of this was over the movie The Blind Side. As soon as it came out, everyone who knew we were foster parents told us we should go see it. Everyone. As time when on and we still hadn't seen it and more and more people told us we should, I pretty much decided I would not ever see it just because everyone said I had to. Then, after Sandra won the Best Actress award at the Oscars and her speech made me cry, "to the moms who take care of the babies and the children no matter where they come from," I thought maybe I would see it after all.

This week it was playing at one of those eat-in theaters for $1, so we went to see it with the family we have visiting. I liked it. It was a good movie. It's a beautiful story. I don't think it deserved an Oscar nomination, nor did Sandra play a role that deserved the win, but I'm still glad she got it. 

Now, please don't get mad at me for this, but I think it's a little odd that people thought we should see it because we are foster parents. I understand it, I guess. They saw this family taking in a kid off the streets and welcoming him into their family and were emotionally moved by it, much like they feel when they hear about us taking in foster kids. But to me, I'd want people who aren't foster parents to see it, because then they'd be inspired to do something similar. And to me it also wasn't a tribute to foster parents, maybe to adoption, working with the homeless, addicts or at risk kids. If anything, it highlights the failure of the foster care system in Memphis at the time to provide a safe and nurturing environment for young Michael Oher. 

I'm interested to see what the Tuohy family does now. Will this be a one-time deal for them or is the change that Michael made in their lives permanent? I'm definitely happy for any story that moves us beyond where we are comfortable and inspires us to do something for other people. That's kindof what I'm trying to do here on this blog.

The best part about going to see The Blind Side? Letting someone else win. My refusal to see it was really worth nothing, but letting the family talk me into it was worth the satisfaction they got from me enjoying it.

How about you? Do you ever do this with movies or other things people over-recommend?

This one is for the Moms

Hi everyone. I know what you're thinking.

"Shouldn't you be doing something with Baby F, since she is going home tomorrow and you need to soak up every last minute you have with her?"

So I want you to know that she is helping me write this blog. She is doing that by sleeping quietly so I can write, and that is helping.

I have been so amazed and grateful at the outpouring of support for us as we've jumped on the foster care wagon. Not only have friends brought by all the supplies we've needed, we've received meals, free baby sitting and plenty of oohs and aahs over the cuteness of the baby, which we had nothing to do with, but enjoy the compliments just the same.

I've also enjoyed getting more readers and feedback for my writing. I'm not gonna lie, it's nice to get compliments on your writing when you want to be a writer.

But there are a few things that some have said that I don't want to leave unaddressed. I seem to get it mostly from mothers, so this is for you. I hope it helps.

When you think about Baby F going home, I think you imagine what it would be like to give up your baby, the one you carried for 9 months, bought clothes for, dreamed of names for, felt kick and hickup and tried to guess the personality of. You think of spending those first mind-numbingly exhausted but elated hours, connecting with the tiny babe, feeling the fingers curl tightly around yours and marveling at the perfection of toes and ears. And then you think about handing that part of your heart over to someone else, and it's really quite unbearable for you. And this is probably about right.

But it's not what I'm going to go through.

I think you're actually empathizing more with E than you know.

On Feb 2, E's life changed with the arrival of the baby girl she had been told was a boy. She held Baby F in her arms and felt like she had been given a second chance. She could keep this one, raise her right, give her everything she needed, everything she never had. Then, that dream was shattered. Yes, it was a consequence of her own bad decisions, but it was a reality she had never prepared for. Her baby girl was taken from her arms and handed over to someone else.

Tomorrow, her dreams get reset. For the first time in 27 days, she gets to be completely in charge of her own baby. She gets to pick out her outfits, she gets to rock her to sleep, she gets to take pictures for hours if she wants. She doesn't have to worry about next time she can see her baby. She doesn't have to steal kisses as her heart gets toted off in someone else's car.

For us, what's going to happen is not shattering or dream-quenching. This reunification is exactly what we've been hoping and praying for from the moment we knew of Baby F. Yes, I love her and am attached to her and would do anything for her, and for that very reason I am going to put on my big girl panties and live that moment with joy. I am going to put this baby in her arms, pray over her, hug her and leave with my heart full, knowing God used me in all my imperfections and selfishness.

God thinks my tears are precious, so I'm not going to be ashamed of crying, but I'm not crying for the same reason E has for the past month. The reason that any of you mothers would. It's going to be hard, but it's a hard that we signed up for, one that E didn't.

So, like I said in my FB status- don't be sad for me. Rejoice and celebrate this homecoming with me. This is the whole point and I for sure am not going to miss it over a pity party!

(PS- please also don't be upset or worried if I don't answer the phone. I know you love and care for me and want to make sure I'm ok. I just don't think I'm up for saying the same thing 400 times a day! Does that make sense? Don't be mad, ok? :-))

Storm Clouds on the Horizon

(Cue the theme music: du, du, duh!)

What kind of crazy, out of their minds people get into a boat when they know a storm is on the horizon? And not only get into it, but actually set sail and intentionally set course for the middle of the storm?

Well, me and John, actually.

So here it comes. The moment we have been praying about and I've been writing about, trying to encourage my readers to join me in the pure desire to see Baby F and E restored as a family the way God intended. I don't know the exact time, but it looks like she'll go home this week.

And even though I am so, so excited that a mommy will get to know her baby, will get to kiss the ever-pudging cheeks that get cuter every minute, will get to soothe her cries and learn her favorite cuddling positions, my heart is also breaking.

I am so blessed that my relationship with E gets better every time we talk. Tonight she called to tell me about a movie she saw this weekend (the same one John and I went on a date to see, coincidentally?), to ask about Baby F's feeding/sleeping schedule and to ask if she can come to church with us (!!!). She offered her compassion to me, expressing how hard she knew it would be for us to say goodbye to Baby F and to reassure me that we could see her whenever we wanted to. I mean, who gets a birth mom like her?

God's hand has been with us through every step of this process. I know He will be with me this week. On that day when I send this baby home where she belongs, and come back to a house smelling of formula and baby wipes, with mounds of pink clothes and burp cloths to pack up, He will be there. On those nights when I wake up every 3 hours listening for a cry that's probably going to be coming from me, He will be there.

I am NOT looking forward to this storm. But if I've learned anything from the Gospels' stories of storms and Jesus, it's this:

He's in the boat with me.
He's in control. Of everything.
He hears my cries.
He'll save me from my fear and doubt.
And people will be amazed watching Him work this situation out for His glory.

If you feel you're in the boat with us, or in a boat of your own, let's hold on tight. We'll make it through this together.

(PS- thanks in advance for your prayers this week, I need every one of them!)

Five for Friday

Today I decided to be like my friend The Toddler Whisperer and do a Five for Friday list. These are the five things I think every foster mom for newborns should have. My list might be different in a week or so, but this is as of today, with all of my three weeks of experience.

In no particular order:

This chair, brought over by a friend has been a lifesaver. It's the only place Baby F will sleep other than in our arms. (or the carseat in the moving car)

We got several of these Kiddopotamus wraps in the bags of donated clothes from our mom friends. They work like sleeping pills for Baby F. (not that we'd know how sleeping pills would work on her...)

Soothies! Modeled by our very own Baby F (wearing the oh-so-stylish cap her friend Katy brought her). If the baby had a mute button, this would be it. God bless you, soothie inventor!

We don't have a changing table, per se, but with a couple of these in every room and in the diaper bag, I can turn any surface into a changing surface. They are so soft, the aforementioned Katy likes to steal borrow them as blankets. And they are definitely waterproof as advertised!

And finally, no new mom's (foster or otherwise) collection would be complete without:

 

What other things should be on my list? I know you can't post pictures in the comments, but send me links! Hook a sista up!

Courtside seats

Today I took Baby F to go be with her mom at her court hearing. I wasn't sure what the hearing was for exactly, but knew that some jail time for E was a possible result. I went because I was very curious about the process and also because I wanted to show my support for E and for her to get to be with her baby in case the jail time was immediate.

Like most things governmental, it was hurry up and wait. Well, mostly just waiting. After about an hour of us waiting outside the court room, her court-appointed attorney came out and pulled her aside and chatted with her some. She told us it was about the deal he was going to propose to the prosecutor. Then, about 30 minutes later, he came out, went over some legalese with her, then took her into the court room. They came out a few minutes later and disappeared around a corner as she mouthed something about a blood test. Then I had to leave to go to another appointment.

I was a little disappointed, because I didn't get to go in and find out what the outcome was. I think she's going to do some jail time over the next 3 weekends, but I'm still not really sure what for. I guess it's none of my business.

I'm proud of her for owning up to her mistakes and taking responsibility. I'm sad that she will have this on her record. I know how society looks at people who have criminal records, because I am part of that society. I wish I had spent more time in my life around people like this. I think I would have more compassion. I am getting it now, but the raw humanity of these people smacked me in the face today, and it wasn't pleasant.

People-watching outside this court room was not nearly as fun as people-watching at a mall or airport. These people aren't getting what they want and they're not going anywhere good. They were mostly minorities, wearing desperate faces, every shoulder tensed and every brow furrowed.

I tried to bury my face in the book I'm reading about a guy who made a difference somewhere else in the world (Stones Into Schools, the follow up to Three Cups of Tea- very, very good!), but I couldn't escape the screech-like desire to get out of there.

People are giving us alot of praise and adulation for doing this foster care thing, and I probably would do the same if it was someone else. But, the truth is, we are just a tiny link in the chain. I'm not minimizing the effect we're having on Baby F and E, but there are people who are out there all day long working in the trenches for thousands of people like them. Social workers, police officers, guidance counselors, therapists, court appointed attorneys, court appointed special advocates, and so on and so on. We've got nothing on them. And I am so proud of those of you, my friends, who are in these types of careers.

Thank you.

Though my relatively short experience in my courtside seat left me with a bitter taste in my throat, it was good for me. It was what I needed to snap out of this fluffy-pink induced haze I get into cuddling with Baby F on my comfy couch in my warm, well-decorated home.

If I don't have the stomach to be around people exactly as they are and love and accept them as such, I don't have the heart to help them get someplace better.

Ok- tomorrow I'm going to write something fun or funny, cause this one was depressing, but it's just another part of the journey we're on. Thanks for coming along.

Baby Mamma

I spelled it that way so you don't get confused with the awesome movie my two pretend BFFs made in 2008. And so you don't think this blog is about surrogacy or juice shops.

I want to tell you a little bit about Baby F's mommy, E. The thing I have to be sensitive to here is that I hope that I get to be friends with her for a long time and someday she might read this blog, and I want to honor her in what I say. Maybe someday, I'll get to help her tell her whole story.

For now, I'll tell you this. She is a sweet girl (she's 24, but I can call her girl because I'm soooo much older) and really loves her baby. She wants to be the best mom she can and is making all the right decisions so far. We got so lucky/blessed having her as our first birth mom in our foster care journey. The children you can kind of prepare for, but the parents are a different story.

In the time I've gotten to spend with E -- two doctor's appointments, two visitations and one church mom's group-- I've so enjoyed getting to know her and hearing her open up about her life.

She is the oldest of 5 daughters her mom had by several different men. She spent a year in foster care as a child and unfortunately had a terrible, heartbreaking experience. She came to this area to get over the difficult breakup she had with her first baby's daddy (the baby stays w/ him), only to fall into a crowd that influenced her in very negative ways, leading to the bad decisions that led to Baby F being placed with us.

She is proud to say that Baby F has changed, even saved her life. She said that when she first held her, she decided she was going to turn her life around and make a better life for her baby. I think that if she had never had Baby F, or if CPS hadn't gotten involved when they did, she would've fallen through the cracks of society and never had a chance. Now she has people helping her get into programs, like WIC, food stamps, Section 8 housing, etc., that give her this chance. She has people like her CPS workers, her cousin who practically raised her, and us to encourage and help her make good decisions. Best of all--and this is nothing new, but perhaps new to her--she has a God who is crazy about her and has good plans for her and Baby F.

She is working on taking a test to get her GED. She is spending her days applying for jobs or at the library. She has completely cut off all connections with bad-influencing friends. She is thinking about and planning for Baby F's future.

She is experimenting with different colors of blonde for her hair, but I'm encouraging her to go back to her natural brown to match her daughter's. She loves jewelry and painting her nails bright colors. She looks amazing for having had a baby 3 weeks ago.

She soaks in every inch of her baby's skin, delights in every squeak and squeezes every moment she has with her to the last drop. Just as any mother should.

I know this is just skimming the surface, but I hope you get a picture (even without a face to go with it) of the kind of person on the other side of foster care. Though the news can't help but publicize parents-gone-wrong, she represents the best of what the system can do. Sometimes a child ends up in foster care, not because their parents want to hurt them, but because they aren't equipped to care for them. Many parents are like E. They embrace the help available to them and get to take their children home. They might not be perfect parents (but who is?), but they are better parents, and that's all we can ask.

We're blessed to be a part of E's story now. We're determined to see her succeed. We're excited to see her break free from her past and start a new chapter.

So, as excited as many of our friends and family are for us to have a sweet, pink, tiny human in our arms, I hope they (you) will be as excited for E to have her permanently in hers.

Oh- I just can't leave you without this amazing picture from our visitation today. I think Baby F was trying to show off for her mommy. 3 weeks old, this one! She just keeps getting more amazing!