"Blessed" by Infertility

Roughly a year ago, I had an individual try to use my infertility to challenge my religious beliefs. This is a person who is supposed to be close to me. We grew up together, attended church together, and still to this day see each other regularly at functions. Somewhere along the line we parted denominational lines.

I promise that I will do my best to not CRAM or preach to you on this site, it is for support. It is for education, but I needed to lay this out to give reference to my story. I do not have problems with Atheism, Buddhism, or individuals of the Muslim faith. I believe what I believe and I know where I stand. 

Going back to the title of this post. In a HEATED discussion in an attempt to trap me or sway my beliefs, this individual stated, "So God blessed you with infertility right?" My response was, "Not blessed." This is a natural "in the moment" response. Honestly when I began this post it was in anger and I was going to use this forum to tell that person OFF! But if I stop and think of the blessings I have had through infertility, I cannot help but weep. My marriage is stronger (yes, I know this is not always the case); I have made life-long friendships that I never would have; and I have a BEAUTIFUL son.

I shared with you previously the struggles early in our marriage. My husband shut down, he would see me weeping and leave the room. I now know it was because he hurt and couldn't "fix" me. He had no clue how to handle his own emotions let alone mine. Through infertility we grew. We battled this side by side, and learned how to handle each other in our darkest times. Are we perfect, no. Are we UNIFIED, yes. We became two soldiers, fighting an invisible enemy named "infertility." Often my husband will tell friends, "If we can survive those days, we can survive anything." I believe he is correct.

There have been posts about my friend. The one who has suffered miscarriages, and gone on to adopt not one but (now) FOUR beautiful children. We met through our eldest children's foster mother. She is the one who brought us together, and honestly another close friend who I would never had if not for infertility. Both of these women have shaped me as a wife and mother. They have taught me to fight for children. They have held me as I have sobbed the loss of a foster child. If not for infertility, I would not have the relationship that I have with either woman. I wouldn't know many of you either.

Lastly, and most importantly is my son. Does he make me crazy? YES. Does he test my boundaries? ALL THE TIME. But, he is MINE. Without infertility I couldn't guarantee that I would have him. We planned on adoption, both of us telling our mothers as children that someday we would adopt. It was always the plan to adopt one child, but without infertility would it have been this one? I don't know. Maybe we would have had our four in our early 20s and stopped. I CANNOT IMAGINE NOT BEING HIS MOTHER. He is my biggest blessing that has come from infertility.

You see, I was wrong. I am BLESSED by infertility. Just not in the way that most people would take it. Now, does this post mean that those of you who have never experienced infertility should go pointing out "blessings" as your infertile friends sob? NO. Let them come to these conclusions in their own time, just listen and hold them (emotionally or physically if they want). Does this blot out the error of that individual trying to use my infertility as a tool to convert me to their beliefs? HELL NO! (sorry Mom) No one has that right. NO ONE, and I will say this once (okay, lying I will say it as many times as it takes to get it through people's thick skulls) USING ANOTHER'S PAIN TO PAINT YOUR BELIEFS AS RIGHT IS NEVER ACCEPTABLE. This goes for Christians, Buddhists, Muslims, and Atheists (sorry if I left more than a few religions out).

You Don't Know Me

Okay, so maybe you do. Maybe you are getting to know me. Maybe we are related. But let's assume you don't know me.
Last night I was leaving a public space with my son. We had finished our event and were headed home to wind down. A mom who sees me there regularly asked if K was our only child. I replied, "Yes for now." She then inquired about timing for another. Who hasn't asked this question? I know I have.
Yesterday it hit me out of no where. You see right now this is a rough subject for me. I would adopt again tomorrow, but I have to consider my whole family in this. I have to think about my husband's work/travel schedule. My son's school schedule. My work schedule. Could it work? Yes. Are we all in the same place? Honestly no.
I also debated how much I wanted to share with this woman. Laughable, isn't it? I post here for all the world to read and yet I hesitated with this acquaintance.
I did tell her we were waiting for timing, things to settle, and for our whole family to be ready for this. She looked puzzled and said something that no one has said to me..."I guess people are spacing their children further apart these days."
I was shocked by this. I felt slightly judged because I didn't have the 2.5 kids all two years apart. I told her the truth. I told her that we planned to adopt a child closer to K's age.
Her next reaction I laughed at inwardly. She told me how hard it is to adopt. She mentioned friends who struggled to conceive and then were told it would take a long time to adopt. I told her babies do take longer, but was cut short by my impatient five year old headed for the door.
I may take up this conversation again when I see her at the next event. I may wait for her to bring it up. I hope when I do that I have the appropriate words to say.
I am torn between two paths. I never want to hide K's history. Adoption is not shameful. I also don't want to parade him around as a charity project. I sincerely despise being told that I am such a good person for adopting. We did not adopt to save kids. We did so to have a family. For our benefit. We are selfish.

In closing, these commercials put on by the AdCouncil crack me up, and are absolutely true. Don't take someone's friend's cousin's experience as the truth. "There ARE thousands of kids who would LOVE to put up with you." 
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C3bPoQQyjZ8&feature=youtube_gdata_player

Out in the Open

So, I was wrong...things don't slow down with a Kindergartner. Soccer, swimming, and trips to visit family. We pretty much run non-stop. I apologize. Maybe I will make this blog part of my list of New Year's Resolutions (does anyone actually follow-through on those?), maybe this time I can stick to it. Now to post what I really wanted to share. 

I promised to share the next stop in our fertility journey with you. Nearly two years ago, I went under the knife. Some of you are friends and thinking, "Wait a minute, when did this happen?" It did. I am confessing. I had exploratory surgery to see if my tubes could be untangled in April 2012 and I kept it a secret.

Some of you are thinking, wait she said she'd be honest. I am being honest, just not at the moment. See, even with educating the public (which is what I believe this blog to be) about infertility, people still question. I didn't want to get your hopes up that I would be carrying a baby soon. Honestly, I didn't want to get mine up either.

So the results? I am still not pregnant. As a matter of fact my doc told my husband (as I was in recovery) that she "wouldn't call the surgery successful". She had to literally hunt through scar tissue to find my ovaries, then untangle my fallopian tubes to examine them. She also told him that we need to be thankful that I am alive. Which I am.

What does this mean for building our family? We essentially have two choices, IVF (or I think IUF could work too) or adopt. We have never shut the door on adoption. Honestly, I think that will be our next step when the timing is right. We always knew that we would adopt at least once more. We are also more open to the idea of IVF or IUF. It just will take more time (and resources) to get there.

In all, we are not swayed nor dismayed because we know our challenges are light and momentary.

Mother's Day 2013

Recently some mommie-friends of mine shared (via facebook) a blog post on Mother's Day. I have to admit it hit home for me on so many levels.

First of all, I cannot tell you how many Mother's Days (lying, it was EIGHT) that I either avoided church and spent the rest of the day in tears or went and spent the rest of the day in tears. To cope with this pain my husband and I lovingly coined the term "Woman's Day" and "Man Day" to be able to celebrate each other.

Secondly, I have been thinking a lot about our son's "Tummy Momma" (and all mothers who have children that they do not raise because of adoption) as of late. I have considered how hard this holiday, which coincidentally was the day of our son's birth five years ago, may be for her and how it may give her mixed emotions.

She may think of him on Mother's Day as the son she gave life to, but I raise. She may remember the joy of having him, so small and perfect, and the pain of letting him go nearly two years later.

Does her heart ache when the pastor of her church asks all Mothers to rise? Does she get up? Does she avoid church as I did? I can't tell you a straight answer about it, but my heart aches for her.

If my son's "Tummy-Momma" were reading this today, I would love to tell her thank you. Thank you for birthing such a dear sweet boy. Thank you for giving him his big eyes and unruly hair. Please know, that today (and many others) I am praying for you. Thank you.

P.S. After sharing the "Open Letter to Pastor's" post with my friends (and also a dear friend who is a pastor) this was our church's pastors response. I hope it touches you in the same way it touched me. Much love and prayers for you today.

Made for TV Drama

In some ways I feel like our journey is a made for TV drama. I feel like I should be on Lifetime or the Hallmark channel. I feel like the "Happily Ever After" should happen any moment, but life isn't like that. We chose to live our lives, we make our choices, and we chose what our happily ever after looks like. Mine isn't perfect, but its mine.

However when I stop to think about my TRUE happily ever after, I see a cherub faced almost five year old eating PB&N (peanut butter and nutella), who loves his "bideo" game (Lightning McQueen racing), Spiderman, and his Daddy. He sneaks sips of coffee and on more than one occasion has been guilty of guzzling nearly $5 worth of a white chocolate mocha!

My goals for my happily ever after are (as one friend succinctly put them) "cautiously optimistic". I have dreams of him following in his Daddy's hooks. I want to see him climb power poles and steel structures, but I also know that he may never get to that level. I encourage him to be whatever he wants to be. I pray for his future wife (if he has one). I look toward his future with optimism, but at the same time realistically.

You see, our son has delays in communication. We have made some GREAT strides, and he has come a long way, but many people still don't understand him. Often we wonder if he really understands us all the time. I dream of raising the next Albert Einstein (who also has been credited with slow language development) or at least seeing him grow into a pair of climbing boots, but also must work on today. With those dreams in mind, my happily ever after and I work towards age-appropriate communication.

I challenge you, in your journey, to take time to consider what your happily ever after may look like. I challenge you to look forward to it, and meet the challenges head on. Do not get frustrated with road blocks, but overcome them.

The Princess and the Giant

I had a friend today who asked if we had ever fostered any little girls. We have. Our long-term fosters were all boys, but there were two princess. One stayed with us just a week until a space opened in her old foster home and another was with us just three weeks. Both offered challenges unique to girls, and to themselves.
The one I am thinking of today was nearly two when she came to us. She had so much SASS!
The first day we had her, I realized that we were lacking in little girl clothes. I had one pair of corduroy overalls and a red onesie in her size. But that was it! Not exactly the pink frills and bows that a Princess needs. I dressed her in those clothes that first day, and as soon as nap time for my son and other foster son hit, I left them with my husband. Then I asked her if she wanted to go shopping. The sassy walk to the door and "YES!" was my answer.
At the store, I was browsing the clearance and sales sections for a deal when she approached me with a pair of skinny jeans trimmed in pink stitching. I shuddered at the price, but she was insistent THIS was what she wanted. Laughing at her fashion sense, I made the purchase, figuring that she was worth every penny. Let me tell you she ROCKED those skinny jeans!
My next lesson from this little girl was not so much fun. See at this time I was working part-time (for some wonderful employers) to keep our health insurance benefits. We had a system worked out where my husband would come home and "relieve me" of momma duties so that I could go to work. I hugged the kids and left. Once I got to work I got a call from him that our Princess hadn't stopped crying since I had left. He had called his mom to come and help get her in jammies since she was pacing out of arms reach from him sobbing. I am so thankful for the fact that my mother-in-law was able to come help and stay with him until I got off of work and home four hours later, but she cannot do this every time I have to go to work.
It was the next day at Costco that I devised a plan. I grabbed a Costco sized bag of gummy bears, and informed Princess that these were "Daddy L's" and if she wanted some, she had to ask. I figured that in time she would see that he was safe. When he got home, she came to me and asked for some candy. I told her that they weren't mine, and she walked to L pointing at the top of the fridge. This was a start, so he gave her some...within time she began using her words to ask. Then within a week I walked around the corner to see him sitting cross-legged on the floor reading a book with her in his lap!  SUCCESS!!!
I still don't know what happened to this Princess to make her fearful of men, even my kind-hearted husband. I have my assumptions, but won't share those here. I guess the moral of the story is that each child, whether a foster placement, an adoptive placement, a student in church or school, or a kid on your sports team has their own back story and their own challenges. They are worth it. Figure out how, with time you can meet and over come those challenges with them. I promise, they are so worth it.

Foster Care Goals: Adoption

The final goal is adoption by either the foster parents or a general applicant. IF the parents cannot be reunited with or there are no appropriate relatives, then the child will be placed for adoption with the current foster parents being given priority. This only happens after all other options have been exhausted. This is not a situation to place your hope in. More often than not, you will be sorely disappointed.

In our state this is begun with the foster parent applying for “Current Caretaker” status. This gives you an equality with relatives and places you above general applicants. They view your attachment to said child as being valuable and valid. In some states this status is “gifted” after you have had the child in your home for 6 or 12 months (depending on the state's statute. DISCLAIMER, I am not a lawyer or an expert on your state's laws, educate yourself or contact a lawyer to help you through this). In my current state of residence, it must be applied for. My recommendation would be to not take NO for an answer. Fight for this child as if they are your blood. If you do not, you may second guess that decision for years to come. 

The latter option is a general applicant adoption. In these instances the children's parent's rights have been (or will be) terminated. There are no relatives who are certifiable who have an interest in the child. Lastly, the foster parents do not desire to adopt the child (this maybe because they do not feel called to adopt, there are WONDERFUL FOSTER FAMILIES whose calling is just to be foster families).

Our son was a general applicant adoption. He was published in "the book" for applications from all over to be placed for him. In our instance we were blessed because we had a “significant relationship” with him. Therefore we had an advantage over others applying for him. Our circumstance is rare, it happens infrequently, and honestly is by the very definition, a miracle!

Today I saw a photo shared on WACAP's Facebook page. They quote that 30% of Americans have considered adoption...2% of Americans have actually adopted. There are over 115K kids available for adoption in the United States alone. We all have to start somewhere. Where is your miracle? I know that our son will not be our last child that we adopt. I know that we will adopt again. We are praying that it will happen sooner than later. But we all have to take that first scary step...will you?

P.S. Grab a tissue, this video from the Dave Thomas Foundation will bring tears to your eyes. I'll tell you there is nothing more amazing that the day you meet your child. 

He's Mine

I am a bit behind on this post, but here it is...Three years have gone by since we got that beautiful phone call letting us know that we were selected to be our son's FOREVER FAMILY. I won't lie and say its been all gum drops, jolly ranchers, and laffy taffy. We (like bio-families) have had our ups and downs. I was informed today, while receiving some sass from my son, that my husband doesn't know "WHERE he gets that from." I think he was being sarcastic, but I know where and even though it drives me CRAZY when he gets sassy with me...I can't be prouder of him.
You see, I am a strong-willed individual. I am a fighter, a prayer, and learning to be a "give it up to God"-er. I realize more and more each day that my little sponge is learning from me. The good and the bad. He says some of the same one-liners that I do ("ARE YOU KIDDING ME?"). He stomps his feet and gives me the same looks that I give him. He is also loving and nurturing. When I cry, he runs for the tissues and climbs into my lap. He asks what is wrong, and kisses my cheeks.
I am blessed beyond measure to have him. WE are blessed to have him. He is becoming a bit of each of us and I am proud. We (our son and I, slowly we are converting my husband) are country music fans. I love Rodney Atkins songs, mostly because they speak to me and remind me of who I am and where I came from. (Farmer's Daughter?) One of OUR favorites is "He's Mine" it was my ring tone for a while, and I think it might be time to use it again. I know its written to be about a Dad being proud of his son, but when it plays I sing it to our son. Because he is MINE. He acts just like me. He's stubborn. He's witty. He's sensitive. HE'S MINE.

If you haven't heard the song, check it out HERE.

Also, have you seen the new ad campaign put out by the Dave Thomas Foundation for adopting foster children? Please watch it. I promise it will move you, but grab some tissues before you click HERE.

Bitter Sweet Words

I have been dealing with a lot of heartache lately over not being able to provide a sibling for our son (4 1/2). He has asked, like most kids his age, for a brother or a sister. For some families this is no big deal, you talk about it, try (or don't), and give an answer. Obviously, you don't give the GRAPHIC answer, however I think many kids his age would get the where do babies come from talk, knowing our son he wouldn't. As parents who are infertile, its not an easy answer. We could try to adopt again, however at this point in our lives we have been told that is not an avenue we can go down with out some living arrangement changes. Even with the most basic of changes, it would be difficult. We could try to conceive on our own, which is always an option, however at this point not an affordable one.

Lately, my heartache has been exasperated by five little words. "Will you play with me?" They are bitter sweet. Sweet because he still wants me around! However, our child is lonely. He asks my husband and myself regularly to get down on his level and play with him. Whether it is Lincoln Logs, Thomas, GI Joe's, or just a simple sword fight (thank you He-Man and Peter Pan), he is looking for a playmate. Some of you are saying, "Take advantage of this! And we do, however we also know that at some point (and on some level currently) he wants someone he can relate to. Someone who gets him. Someone who can play make-believe and REALLY get into it. Someone who isn't jaded with the stress of being an adult on their shoulder.

Our son is looking for his Peter Pan. His playmate, someone who hasn't grown up yet. Won't grow up for some time. Who can invent imaginary worlds with green tigers who change into Battle Cats. Who can see the swing-set as a castle to defend. Where rugs are islands in an ocean filled with sharks or a river of lava. This is my desire for him too. I DO CHERISH every moment of snuggles, playing, and learning with him. But I know in some ways I am not enough.

I have also watched him play this past week with cousins and friends. My son has no concept of sharing. See what you want and take it is his idea of sharing. Taking turns is foreign to him. This is another way that I would love to bless him. I want him to grow into that person who understands how to share. I don't want him to be selfish. I don't want him to struggle with having a roommate in college, or sharing an apartment.

To be honest, I also want a second best friend for me. Our son is my best friend. He is my day in and day out, but the joy of having a second child to love and cherish...I've had it before, and I miss it. I know someday we will have another, at least I PRAY that we do. For our son's sake I pray it is sooner than later. He deserves a best friend who can keep up with him.  

Building a Family

When we began this journey we had been told that we would be better candidates for adoption once we became foster parents. Which we did, then we were blessed to adopt our son because of our foster parent certification and our existing relationship with him as his respite care providers. What we didn't realize was that with my husband's recent career change (shortly after we adopted our son), we would be traveling all over the Northwest. It is that lifestyle that has made it harder to adopt other children.
Currently our goal is to spend three weeks per month as a family on the road. Then one week apart, meaning my husband stays to work, and we go home to visit family and friends. In discussing this arrangement with our Adoptive Certifier, we have been told that since they cannot visit us on the road, we cannot adopt.
Our alternative is to spend the majority of every month at home, and "visit" Daddy on the road. Even this will pose a problem as I have been informed that our situation is just "weird" and out of the norm. So when a committee looks at us, they will see a "broken family". Their goal will be to place a child with a "complete family" and so a two-parent living in the same city/county/state family will be more appealing to them.
I have to admit, this is heartbreaking for us. Especially as our son seems to be obsessed with babies. He gets excited when he sees them, and asks all about them. We know our God is bigger than DHS, and we pray and wait for his perfect plan.

Yes, our son has a chocolate milk mustache. ;) Adds to the character of the photo. 

A Day of Highs and Lows

 March 1, 2010 was a rather emotional day for us. This was the day that we got our call confirming that we would be adopting our son. That he would be joining us forever in a matter of days (technically a week). We finally got our gift. The child that we desired for so long. We were going to be a FOREVER FAMILY. See this was the high of the day. The ray of sunshine on a day that was also filled with grief.
 As I have mentioned, we have LOVED every child that has been in our home. This was also the day we said good-bye to our first foster baby. He left our home to be reunited with a relative. A couple who truly love him. A couple who cares for him 100% and gives him everything a little boy needs.
 We packed him into the agency van and said good-bye. I wish we had done this differently. We should have taken him to the office ourselves, met his family, shared with them face-to-face, and said our good-byes. Instead a van came to our home, we loaded his belongings, placed him in a car seat, and kissed him good-bye. I had already e-mailed them his schedule, his likes/dislikes, and the signs he used to communicate with us so that they would be prepared for his arrival. What I wasn't prepared for was his face. I will never forget his face as he realized all his belongings were with him in that van. The look of confusion and hurt. I couldn't handle being with him. I ran. I sobbed. I grieved the loss of him.
  As much as I resent the agency for screwing up what should have been the most joyful moment of my life, I am also thankful. As I mentioned our son came home within a few days (we had a planned "respite" visit for him with us). I redecorated the nursery, set up a toddler bed (we agreed with his foster family to transition him to a bed during the transition to our home to make it less painful). We were able to essentially fill our home with our child and focus 100% on him. In hindsight, I see a blessing in disguise.
  I still miss our first baby. He is special and he is being raised by special people who share stories, updates, and photos with us. In turn, I share stories back about our son. Who is also special, and the best gift we've ever gotten.

The Blessings of Being Foster Parents

There is so much good that I can say about our experience as foster parents. We had five beautiful infants and children. They ranged in age from two weeks to two years when they arrived with us. They were each special, and each face is framed in a collage frame on our bedroom wall so that we can pray for them nightly.  

We have fun memories of taking them for their first swim, their first 18 hour road-trip (okay for some this was NOT fun, but still fond memories), first plane ride, first train ride, first vacation, first words, first steps, and first birthdays. One we have his photo of the trip home from the hospital. Another his first time seeing a horse. I have fond memories of a pretty little girl who enthusiastically yelled “YES!” and headed to the door when I asked if she wanted to go shopping. This same princess also picked out her own clothes, I have yet to mother another with such distinct style opinions. I also have pictures of first black-eyes and stitches (thanks to our son and a die-cast train).

These children conditioned and trained us as new parents. They gave us experiences that we might not have had otherwise, like the joy of waking several times a night to feed a newborn or the time you rush in at 2am to lift a crying 15 month old from a crib and have him vomit down your back only to realize he also vomited in his crib. Or the baby who climbs EVERYTHING, who requires you to be in the hallway to remind him to go to bed and not climb out of his crib. I also practiced my pig-tail and braid skills on a couple of princesses.

You see these are unique experiences that we did not have with our son. Things that we would have “missed out on” had we not fostered. Don't misunderstand, we have just as many (probably more) beautiful memories with our son, and so many more to come.

Each was a true blessing to our family, and these stories represent just a fraction of the joy they brought to our lives. Yes, loving kids was the best part of being foster parents. I cannot complain even a moment about them, they were all a gift. I would never trade these memories, or my time with these kids, not for anything.  

A Letter to Our Son: Two Years

Dear Son,

Two years ago today, I received an amazing call. Our adoption worker called to tell me that our adoption had been finalized. You would be our son forever. I can't begin to tell you how happy this made us. See, we have dreamed of the day of having our own child for years, 10 years to be exact. To have someone to love, spoil, and leave a legacy behind to. I know we tell you this daily, but YOU are special.

Not going to lie, we have had our ups and downs. You are a "normal" toddler. You squeal, scream, and push buttons. You are hard-headed like your momma, and fearless like your daddy. The combination of the two is sometimes VERY scary. Like the time you tried to climb over the edge of the slide halfway down, and five feet in the air! Or the time you tried to go up the ladder, across the platform, and swing out over the slide all BACKWARDS! But we have survived.

We have succeeded at loving and spoiling you. I don't know many boys who have as many matchbox cars or Thomas Trains as you have. Don't get me started in on your collection of DVDs. But more than physical possessions, you are spoiled with love (if that is possible). You can climb into our laps at anytime. You get to talk to daddy uninterupted every night, and have a short-order cook at your disposal every day.

There are some things that we hope for you for the future. We hope that we as parents can guide you to be loving. You are naturally good-natured, and accepting of everyone, our prayer is that this never leaves you. We want you to be successful in whatever you do. Last week you told us that you want to be a dentist and last night you told us that you want to work on the wires with Daddy. Your love for building makes us think you might just do that, or be an engineer or carpenter. Whatever you do, we pray that you succeed and are happy. Lastly, we want you to love learning. Whether it is learning more about God, the world, your line of work, or your hobbies. Never quit thirsting for knowledge.

Two years has taught us so much. It has caused us to grow as a family. We cannot wait to see how you grow, who you become, and how you succeed. We know that there will be failures, we will be here for you, and love you no matter what. Our Dear Son, always remember, YOU are SPECIAL.

Love,

Momma and Daddy

I didn't give you the gift of life,

but in my heart I know.

The love I feel is deep and real,

as if it had been so.

For us to have each other,

is like a dream come true.

No, I didn't give you the gift of life,

life gave me the gift of you.

-Author Unknown

Broken

I had a conversation with a friend recently, we talked about our different struggles with fertility. I cannot conceive and she can. I know, your minds are whirling with thoughts of, "If she can conceive, then she's not infertile". WRONG! You see, while she has seen the plus sign or two lines or the word "pregnant" on a pregnancy test, she hasn't held a brand new baby from her body. In that way we are the same. She has had the heartbreak of multiple miscarriages. During our conversation, she explained to me our bond, WE'RE BROKEN.
I am broken because of a doctor's scalpel that saved my life at the age of ten. She is broken by genetics. Neither of us can look at the other and say, "I have it harder" or "you have it harder". We don't even try. Its invalid to our lives.
What is valid is our friendship and our journey. We travel this road side-by-side. We rejoice with every triumph, we discuss options and specialists, and we have cried together at every "failure".
At the same time that we recognize our brokenness, we also see strength. We are each wonderful wives, great mothers, and best friends. Brokenness does not define us, but it is part of what makes us stronger.

Are These ALL Your Kids?

As a foster parent you often get kids of all ages, its really by divine intervention the children you get and when you get them. We have had multiple placements from multiple families on a few occasions, and this is the question that I get a lot. It usually follows "What are their ages".

One particular occurance happened when we were blessed to have our son, before he was our son, overnight in addition to our foster child. We had received a midnight call for an additional foster child, "Just until Monday". So our home had grown by one. We had family in town this same weekend, and had to get out of the house. See, there were four adults and five children (ages six to one) in our 900 square foot condo, we needed a break.

We walked down to the park to play. While there another family was also playing with their toddler at the same time. The dad asked the, "What are their ages" question, and we could see the wheels turning when we responded. He was doing the math...9 month gestation for each child...it didn't add up, as there was 12 months between the youngest and oldest.

I explained that none of them were "ours" genetically, but our foster children. Which didn't make the situation any more bearable for him. I don't fault him for this. People rarely know how to respond, so typically we just smiled and nodded when we were told that "our" children are beautiful. We do this because they are beautiful. We also do this because we know that we were blessed with "our" children.

You'll also see, I put quotes around "ours" because, in that moment they were ours. Maybe not genetically, and for two of them only for a time, but they were ours to love. Ours to comfort. Ours to nurture. This is our duty, and our responsibility to these kids. In return we are blessed by them ten-fold.  

(Photo taken of our son AFTER our adoption was finalized)

When You Least Expect It

 In July of 2009, we had made arrangements to take our Little Buddy home to visit my WHOLE family for the first time. We had our paperwork to leave the state in order, and were counting down the hours until he would be dropped off. I had just one shift left until my Holiday Weekend off from the hotel, and on that Thursday at 3pm I received a call. We were asked to take our first foster baby. They were not sure when the child would come into care. I was told, “it could be today, tomorrow, or a month from now”.

Since there was no definite boundary, I left for work, as my shift started at 4pm. At 3:45pm, I received another call. They had located the child and would be at my home within the half-hour. I arrived at work, arranged for my co-worker to stay late, called my husband, and ran home. The baby was waiting for me with two caseworkers. Within minutes I was handed a baby and a diaper bag. There was an outfit, maybe two, in the bag and enough diapers and formula to get us through the first 24 hours. I now know that this is more than one usually gets with a foster child.

My husband was home by 5pm, and I handed over this confused baby. I left for my shift at work, but was barely able to focus...how could I? In an hour we had become parents!

Remember that we were scheduled to leave for my parents' home the next day? Well, thankfully someone was working late at our Child Welfare office. This angel of a worker stopped at our home at 10pm to drop off the necessary paperwork to show that we were the child's placement and could leave the state with him. The child had been asleep for a few hours by this point, and our Little Buddy had been dropped off hours before so that we could leave first thing in the morning. **First thing, being relative with two infants in our home.  

Livin' on Love, Buyin' on Time

In February of 2009, I had to privilege of introducing this amazing vampire-toothed bundle of joy to my sisters and niece. They had come down for a weekend at the beach, and I had (purposely) double-booked myself with the baby and with them. They immediately fell in love with him, which I knew that they would, and were happy to help me with feeding, changing, and entertaining him. I have many precious photos from that weekend, especially from our walk on the beach, photos that I will cherish forever.

As time wore on, we got to the point where instead of waiting for a call to ask us to babysit, we would call to “borrow the baby”. He was such a joy, that we would make up excuses to have him or to keep him longer than agreed upon. By June we knew that we wanted him, that if he went up for adoption, we had to have him. We thought we would have that answer soon.

In June there was a “permanency hearing” held in regards to him. The name in and of itself, is really deceiving. You would assume that a permanency hearing would decide to future of a child, however in reality the hearing is to ensure that DHS is moving forward (at least in a minimal fashion) and to check on the parents progress in complying with the court's orders. If the parents have done anything then the court can (and often will) extend the amount of time that the parents have to meet the court's requirements. At this point this little boy was 13 months old, and had been with his foster family since he was released from the hospital. By federal mandate, parents of foster children are given 12 months to get it together, or longer if they have made some progress. Since they had made some progress, they were given more time, three months to be exact.

We could wait however. We had our paperwork completed for both adoption and for foster care certification. We had gotten our physicals done, required to adopt any child, to ensure that we were both in good health. And lastly we had our “nursery” set up, complete with a farm-theme! As “expectant parents” went, we were ready...or so we thought.  

I Release You

Today, for whatever reason, a memory came flooding back to me. It was a point when we were young, maybe 23 years old, when I told my husband, "I release you". I don't think on this often, because it was in the midst of my darkest days. The period of my life that I'd just rather forget than remember.
For those of you who aren't familiar with the Bible, there are passages that speak of the joy of having a children. Psalm 127:3-5 says, "Behold, children are a heritage from the Lord, the fruit of the womb a reward. Like arrows in the hand of a warrior are the children of one's youth. Blessed is the man who fills his quiver with them! He shall not be put to shame when he speaks with his enemies in the gate." I had felt like I was a failure of a wife, how could I hold my husband back from this blessing?
Even though we had no confirmed answer as to why we couldn't have children, I knew then that it wasn't his problem, it was mine. So, out of pity (for him or for me, I couldn't tell you), I told him that he could divorce me to find a wife that could give him a child. He was free to leave.
Thankfully, I am blessed with a wonderful husband, and one who was wise beyond his 23 years. He told me that he had no interest in leaving me. That if we lived childless forever, he would be happy just being my husband.
Now that I am older (nearly a decade!) I can look back on that moment and realize that it doesn't matter how your family is built. Or if you have children at all. What matters is that you, as an individual or a couple, have support. You have someone who loves you, and chooses to stand by you regardless of the circumstances. I pray that you have the same.

Falling In Love

For several months we would babysit this little man. We'd take him on weekends, take him for an afternoon, and we'd have him OVERNIGHT. Talk about scary...here we are adults who have NEVER had children, and we have a baby sleeping in a cradle next to our bed! 

I don't think I slept at all that first night. The baby, on the other hand, slept 12 hours. I was awake for every breath, coo, and squeak while this four-month old bundle slept peacefully. He was perfect. 

A few months later, I got sick, REALLY sick. I couldn't hardly move my body was so exhausted. Doctors poked and prodded me. I was on a first-name basis with my phlebotomist, since we were seeing each other ever other day. In the end I was diagnosed with an auto-immune disorder. My immune system decided that an organ needed to die, I might add it is a necessary organ! 

This two month period put a hold on spending time with our little buddy. It was heartbreaking especially as we were supposed to have him for a FEW days during this period. We saw him at church, and soaked up every possible snuggle moment that we could. We had inadvertently fallen in love. We were in love with a not-so-little baby whose smile resembled a vampire (his front teeth came in after the rest) and I believe that he was falling in love with us also. 

A Perfect Moment

While in the midst of attending these classes, I approached my friend who has been a long-time foster parent. She had a little boy, who was roughly three months old. I knew this from attending church and being a member of the 'baby snatchers' family. You see when this foster family has a new baby, our family offers to take the baby so that they can enjoy church. ;) This gives us the time to get our 'baby fix' since at this time there were few grand-babies and not enough to go around. Sorry, followed the rabbit trail. I had approached her since we had taken a class or two I felt like we were 'nearly certified' and offered to babysit him for them, if they needed help. She told me that she would keep that in mind.
A few weeks later she took me up on that offer, and I brought home a baby boy for the afternoon. We cuddled him, snuggled him, fed him (probably too much), and LOVED on him. It was an afternoon that I will remember forever. At one point he got fussy, probably because I was all up in his face with a bottle, and my husband took him. He held him in the crook of his arm and they 'played video games' together. The baby was content, like he belonged there.