Something made me stop and think the other day about how the dates lined up. Were we foster parents yet when Crocodile was born? I thought through the timelines, and no, we were a couple weeks away from being licensed.
So, I thought more about April 2013.
Dinosaur was 4. Rhinoceros was 2. I didn't have a child in elementary school yet.
We were stressing over licensing details, even though the process had been pretty smooth. What on earth could we have found stressful in that? It's hard to understand now. I was teaching in the evenings and B was working at his old company.
Pterodactyl, Beetle, and Caterpillar were not born yet.
Cricket was a couple months old. Was her sister taking care of her? Her grandma that had her own issues? Had she met Gina yet, her fictive kin "granny" that would eventually adopt her? What did she look like? I never saw baby pictures of her.
Crocodile was born. It would reveal too much of his story to tell what I know about April 2013 and Crocodile. It was a hopeful time following tragedy, but some were still tentative about that hope. And unfortunately that hope was fleeting. I have seen baby pictures of him, true newborn pictures that I was quick to save from Facebook and would later send on to his adoptive family. He looks like your basic newborn, and his face changed a lot from his newborn face. Still precious, though.
Now it's April 2017.
Dinosaur is 8. Rhinoceros is 6. They're both in elementary school. They have been big brothers to five children and said five goodbyes. They have helped, fought with, taught, played with, ignored, cuddled, and loved those five children.
I am teaching part-time during the day and B works at a new company, similar hours.
Pterodactyl, Beetle, and Caterpillar, and Tadpole are all 3 or 4 years old. I assume Pterodactyl and Beetle were adopted by the families they moved to, but was never told for sure. I am even less sure about Caterpillar. Tadpole was adopted by his foster family he was with when we did respite, and I've seen him several times since.
Cricket is 5. She has been adopted with her sister. She'll be in kindergarten this fall.
Crocodile is 4 and is living with his new parents and five sisters, two that were there when he was that newborn in April 2013. Hopefully they will finalize adoption this year. I wonder and worry about those hopeful people in his life in April 2013. I pray redemption is still ahead.
Showing posts with label pterodactyl. Show all posts
Showing posts with label pterodactyl. Show all posts
Sunday, April 2, 2017
Wednesday, April 27, 2016
The twins we could have had.
Two years ago, I was praying for Pterodactyl's twin siblings. The siblings we said we would take if we had open bed(s), but we wouldn't stay empty for them, either. As it ended up, we had Caterpillar placed with us and they were placed in another foster home.
I later connected with their foster dad through our agency and got to see pictures of them, and later saw them in person. Precious, beautiful babies, one looking somewhat like Pterodactyl, but really they are their own little people.
Recently I got to see the announcement that this foster family adopted them. A lovely, happy family.
Of course, I wonder, what would our lives have been like? We would have had a family of six. We would have likely been done with fostering in our second placement. The newborn phase would have been intense, but it would have wrapped up a whole lot sooner. Sometimes we as foster parents are faced with the kids that need placement and we feel like we must be that home. Clearly since we're being asked, we must be the ones to say yes. But in the in the big picture, I know this is not true, especially for very young children in foster care.
I know this was not our story to have. Our story has Beetle, Caterpillar, Cricket, Crocodile, and more to come. In our hearts, we just absolutely knew there was another family for these twins, someone who longed for them, someone God prepared for them. It is so good to see their faces in their smiling announcement.
I still feel like a distant relative, however loose my connection might be to them. They aren't my babies, but they have a little place in our history, and in our history of prayers to do God's will.
I later connected with their foster dad through our agency and got to see pictures of them, and later saw them in person. Precious, beautiful babies, one looking somewhat like Pterodactyl, but really they are their own little people.
Recently I got to see the announcement that this foster family adopted them. A lovely, happy family.
Of course, I wonder, what would our lives have been like? We would have had a family of six. We would have likely been done with fostering in our second placement. The newborn phase would have been intense, but it would have wrapped up a whole lot sooner. Sometimes we as foster parents are faced with the kids that need placement and we feel like we must be that home. Clearly since we're being asked, we must be the ones to say yes. But in the in the big picture, I know this is not true, especially for very young children in foster care.
I know this was not our story to have. Our story has Beetle, Caterpillar, Cricket, Crocodile, and more to come. In our hearts, we just absolutely knew there was another family for these twins, someone who longed for them, someone God prepared for them. It is so good to see their faces in their smiling announcement.
I still feel like a distant relative, however loose my connection might be to them. They aren't my babies, but they have a little place in our history, and in our history of prayers to do God's will.
Thursday, March 17, 2016
When I met you
Some of my favorite, most therapeutic writing is writing about the kids themselves. I know part of it is because I have to keep so much confidentiality that I feel like I'm bursting to talk about them. Part of it is that I feel lonely in my deep love for them that doesn't go away, when it seems to me that they can be invisible to some of my family and friends. Some of it is just because it's amazing to watch them grow.
So, something made me think of the moment I met each little one, and I was itching to write them out, stories I may never get to tell the children myself.
Pterodactyl. You were in your bassinet, being checked by a nurse, and howling mad. I was trying to talk to your mother, who had asked to meet me, but now was crying and had nothing to say. I left the room and you were still crying. Later, you were wheeled into the conference room where I waited with the social worker, sleeping in your bassinet. I held you and we took pictures, though it was such a strange moment to take pictures. You had straight dark hair on your little forehead and looked so brand new.
Beetle. You were sleeping in your Mamaroo in your room in the NICU, a pacifier propped against your mouth. You weren't officially in our care yet, but I was allowed to visit. I remember being shocked at how tiny you looked, but actually you were a pretty average weight, just a tiny-looking guy. I think part of it was your huge eyes, still big and round in pictures I've seen of you as a toddler. I gave you a bottle and relearned bottle feeding to help you, trying to get as much in as I could. You definitely did not like having your diaper changed. The nurses helped me with your care and I said goodnight to you, leaving you in your room to see you another day.
Caterpillar. You were asleep in your infant car seat, little head of curls resting against the back. I remember my biggest concerns were some medical issues and getting information that was not being given to us, so my impression of you was fragility. This didn't last for long, as you were quite a content baby once you settled in a few days. But that first night, you woke up soon after CPS left and ate, but you looked tired and a little lost. It had been a long day.
Cricket. I picked you up, and when the door was answered, the person answering said, "this is her." You'd run up to the door, too, to greet me. You were busy, busy, busy while we got paperwork together. We unplugged a phone so you could pretend to call people. You had a toothbrush that played music, and you wanted to show me how you brushed your teeth right then, even though I didn't really know where to get a glass of water to help you. I didn't really know what to do and hadn't prepared myself for filling this time, but I followed your lead and you ran your little show for me. You were a driven little girl, right from the start. You fell asleep about two minutes after we drove away, exhausted from the night before, and I realized later a lot of the busy busy busy mode was really overtiredness.
Crocodile. You were terrified. I think about it and it still breaks my heart. You literally backed into a corner by the door, and then tried to leave with the social worker when she tried to leave. Your big brown eyes stared at us, chin lowered. We brought out some goldfish and fruit snacks, started up Daniel Tiger. You shook your little head no. We gently kept trying and finally you sat with me on the couch, kind of watching the show. Then you took the snack and relaxed a tiny bit, and the worker left. You wore a shirt with a saying on it that you still wear as much as possible, and though I can't stand the saying on it, I can't help but let you wear it. You slept only five hours that night, just quietly awake for long periods. With these first moments, I thought you would have a very hard time adjusting to our home, but you actually settled in quite well within a few days.
Every time, it was the start of a remaking of our family.
So, something made me think of the moment I met each little one, and I was itching to write them out, stories I may never get to tell the children myself.
Pterodactyl. You were in your bassinet, being checked by a nurse, and howling mad. I was trying to talk to your mother, who had asked to meet me, but now was crying and had nothing to say. I left the room and you were still crying. Later, you were wheeled into the conference room where I waited with the social worker, sleeping in your bassinet. I held you and we took pictures, though it was such a strange moment to take pictures. You had straight dark hair on your little forehead and looked so brand new.
Beetle. You were sleeping in your Mamaroo in your room in the NICU, a pacifier propped against your mouth. You weren't officially in our care yet, but I was allowed to visit. I remember being shocked at how tiny you looked, but actually you were a pretty average weight, just a tiny-looking guy. I think part of it was your huge eyes, still big and round in pictures I've seen of you as a toddler. I gave you a bottle and relearned bottle feeding to help you, trying to get as much in as I could. You definitely did not like having your diaper changed. The nurses helped me with your care and I said goodnight to you, leaving you in your room to see you another day.
Caterpillar. You were asleep in your infant car seat, little head of curls resting against the back. I remember my biggest concerns were some medical issues and getting information that was not being given to us, so my impression of you was fragility. This didn't last for long, as you were quite a content baby once you settled in a few days. But that first night, you woke up soon after CPS left and ate, but you looked tired and a little lost. It had been a long day.
Cricket. I picked you up, and when the door was answered, the person answering said, "this is her." You'd run up to the door, too, to greet me. You were busy, busy, busy while we got paperwork together. We unplugged a phone so you could pretend to call people. You had a toothbrush that played music, and you wanted to show me how you brushed your teeth right then, even though I didn't really know where to get a glass of water to help you. I didn't really know what to do and hadn't prepared myself for filling this time, but I followed your lead and you ran your little show for me. You were a driven little girl, right from the start. You fell asleep about two minutes after we drove away, exhausted from the night before, and I realized later a lot of the busy busy busy mode was really overtiredness.
Crocodile. You were terrified. I think about it and it still breaks my heart. You literally backed into a corner by the door, and then tried to leave with the social worker when she tried to leave. Your big brown eyes stared at us, chin lowered. We brought out some goldfish and fruit snacks, started up Daniel Tiger. You shook your little head no. We gently kept trying and finally you sat with me on the couch, kind of watching the show. Then you took the snack and relaxed a tiny bit, and the worker left. You wore a shirt with a saying on it that you still wear as much as possible, and though I can't stand the saying on it, I can't help but let you wear it. You slept only five hours that night, just quietly awake for long periods. With these first moments, I thought you would have a very hard time adjusting to our home, but you actually settled in quite well within a few days.
Every time, it was the start of a remaking of our family.
Thursday, January 14, 2016
They're all toddlers.
It suddenly occurred to me that all our current and former foster kids (except the respite placement) are in the age range of 2 to 3-years-old right now. It just happened that way, with short-term placements, infants first and then toddlers.
What if they were all in a toddler room playing together? Caterpillar would likely be the most chill, just watching the action. I'm pretty sure Cricket, Pterodactyl, and Crocodile would be having some serious drama over a toy. Lots of shouting from at least Cricket and Crocodile, with some getting in each others' faces. I don't have a good sense about Beetle, so maybe he can just chill with Caterpillar, look at some books, play with some cars. If they all had a race, Crocodile would win, but Cricket would be close behind, or possibly win if she could somehow distract Crocodile.
Now I'm picturing the year 2029, and by some magic imagination miracle, they're in high school together. Maybe it's a high school musical. Caterpillar can sing the lead, but Crocodile would have the best dance moves and could choreograph. Cricket would direct the show, possibly do costumes. Beetle works on the script.
These are fun thoughts to distract myself in a month that I'm trying not to worry about Crocodile's case.
What if they were all in a toddler room playing together? Caterpillar would likely be the most chill, just watching the action. I'm pretty sure Cricket, Pterodactyl, and Crocodile would be having some serious drama over a toy. Lots of shouting from at least Cricket and Crocodile, with some getting in each others' faces. I don't have a good sense about Beetle, so maybe he can just chill with Caterpillar, look at some books, play with some cars. If they all had a race, Crocodile would win, but Cricket would be close behind, or possibly win if she could somehow distract Crocodile.
Now I'm picturing the year 2029, and by some magic imagination miracle, they're in high school together. Maybe it's a high school musical. Caterpillar can sing the lead, but Crocodile would have the best dance moves and could choreograph. Cricket would direct the show, possibly do costumes. Beetle works on the script.
These are fun thoughts to distract myself in a month that I'm trying not to worry about Crocodile's case.
Sunday, December 13, 2015
Maintaining relationships with former foster kids
We went into fostering knowing that we would have goodbyes. We hoped they would not be forever goodbyes, but we couldn't really know for sure. I think we knew it wasn't within our control, but some stories made me hopeful. Before our first placement, I think I pictured that we would have some kids who would reunify, then depending on the relationship with the birth parents, we could possibly stay in their lives. What I didn't picture is a move to a relative or another foster family, which has been every case we have had. It's similar that the relationship is not ours to control, but also different.
So, who have we seen? I saw Pterodactyl once and received pictures of her as a toddler. We haven't seen Beetle again, though his foster family did send pictures once. We have seen Caterpillar, but not in a planned sort of way. I've posted some about how I've gotten to see Cricket for play dates after she moved from our home. And though he was just here for respite, we've seen Tadpole, and I recently went to his adoption celebration. Looking at this list, we have had contact after kids moved, and I am grateful, sometimes for our sake and sometimes for theirs. However, it has not been simple and easy.
Sometimes new homes make promises that they don't keep. This has been especially hard on me. I really thought we were going to be a regular part of some of the kids' lives based on what new caregivers were telling me. I have had to work on forgiveness. I have had to put myself in their shoes, knowing they have a lot of their plate and are just busy. I'm not a fan of the phone, so I sometimes let slip those phone calls I know I should make. I'm not perfect either. Or maybe there's just something I don't understand that's a factor. I need to let those promises go, forgive and forget them.
Sometimes new homes do not even try for contact. I don't know if it's because they're busy. I don't know if it's because they have judged us in some way. I have to forgive and let this go.
Sometimes new homes do try, and it's still a bit messy. Every boundary has to be drawn differently for a former and new family of a child. I read stories in blogs of families taking kids for weekends, picking them up to give the new family a break, all celebrating together. This also set up high expectations in my mind, but in reality, the new family may decide that's not good for the child. Or even the therapist may get involved and suggest boundaries. I hoped we could have Cricket back at our house at some point, or take her for outings, but Gina and Cricket's therapists have been very cautious, as she is having a hard time understanding permanency and trust in Gina as a permanent caregiver. Thankfully, they also recognize that a continued relationship with us is still a good thing, but it has been different than I imagined.
It's hard to accept after all I've poured into a child that my eagerness to love and care for her could have a negative impact. I want to get defensive. I want to feel hurt. But I am grateful that we are still connected, that I get the chance to tell Cricket how special she is, how happy I am to see her. That Rhinoceros and Cricket can play together, with Cricket cheerfully barking orders at him, and Rhinoceros just thrilled to have his buddy.
I wonder if some of this is preparation. Maybe we will be the new home drawing boundaries someday, and I can tell the foster parents this: "I know how you feel. I know how wrong it feels to see someone else taking care of the child you have loved and poured into. I know how wrong it feels not to be the one who gets to say what the child needs, when you've met her needs minute by minute. We all love this child, and we should be gracious to each other, but mostly we need to just keep loving this child, even if loving this child looks different than it did before. And thank you for loving him."
So, who have we seen? I saw Pterodactyl once and received pictures of her as a toddler. We haven't seen Beetle again, though his foster family did send pictures once. We have seen Caterpillar, but not in a planned sort of way. I've posted some about how I've gotten to see Cricket for play dates after she moved from our home. And though he was just here for respite, we've seen Tadpole, and I recently went to his adoption celebration. Looking at this list, we have had contact after kids moved, and I am grateful, sometimes for our sake and sometimes for theirs. However, it has not been simple and easy.
Sometimes new homes make promises that they don't keep. This has been especially hard on me. I really thought we were going to be a regular part of some of the kids' lives based on what new caregivers were telling me. I have had to work on forgiveness. I have had to put myself in their shoes, knowing they have a lot of their plate and are just busy. I'm not a fan of the phone, so I sometimes let slip those phone calls I know I should make. I'm not perfect either. Or maybe there's just something I don't understand that's a factor. I need to let those promises go, forgive and forget them.
Sometimes new homes do not even try for contact. I don't know if it's because they're busy. I don't know if it's because they have judged us in some way. I have to forgive and let this go.
Sometimes new homes do try, and it's still a bit messy. Every boundary has to be drawn differently for a former and new family of a child. I read stories in blogs of families taking kids for weekends, picking them up to give the new family a break, all celebrating together. This also set up high expectations in my mind, but in reality, the new family may decide that's not good for the child. Or even the therapist may get involved and suggest boundaries. I hoped we could have Cricket back at our house at some point, or take her for outings, but Gina and Cricket's therapists have been very cautious, as she is having a hard time understanding permanency and trust in Gina as a permanent caregiver. Thankfully, they also recognize that a continued relationship with us is still a good thing, but it has been different than I imagined.
It's hard to accept after all I've poured into a child that my eagerness to love and care for her could have a negative impact. I want to get defensive. I want to feel hurt. But I am grateful that we are still connected, that I get the chance to tell Cricket how special she is, how happy I am to see her. That Rhinoceros and Cricket can play together, with Cricket cheerfully barking orders at him, and Rhinoceros just thrilled to have his buddy.
I wonder if some of this is preparation. Maybe we will be the new home drawing boundaries someday, and I can tell the foster parents this: "I know how you feel. I know how wrong it feels to see someone else taking care of the child you have loved and poured into. I know how wrong it feels not to be the one who gets to say what the child needs, when you've met her needs minute by minute. We all love this child, and we should be gracious to each other, but mostly we need to just keep loving this child, even if loving this child looks different than it did before. And thank you for loving him."
Wednesday, December 9, 2015
Christmas gifts and foster kids
This is our third Christmas as foster parents, though our first year Pterodactyl moved right before Christmas. I've been thinking about the complex issue of gifts and foster children.
We were asked back in September what the foster kids would like for Christmas. An organization works with our agency to donate gifts for foster children to make sure they have a very special Christmas because they are going through so much. It is a good idea, but it does have some unintended consequences at times.
To begin with, we feel the need to fight the way Christmas gifts seem to spiral out of control. A grandparent was only going to get one thing, but then they saw something else, and then they wanted this for stocking gifts. So, we simplify with only giving three gifts to our children, biological and foster. But then that clearly is going to be off-balance when the foster child is receiving gifts from the donations, and possibly gifts from his or her biological family. I don't really want to buy more just to balance the number. Last year we opened them separately so the "balance" wasn't really noticed, but I'm wary of doing that as one biological child is having a very hard time understanding the giving is better than receiving concept. Yes, he needs to learn, but he's young, and he is going through a lot as a foster sibling. So, I think this year I'll pack up the donated gifts in one box and I think it might go under the radar.
Then there is planning for shared gifts. If we buy this for all the kids, but it's for the foster child to open, will it go with the foster child? The answer is yes, and that is completely how it should be, but it just adds a layer to planning things out.
Then there is the gift opening and how it can be overwhelming. With Cricket, she shut down around too many people, too many presents. She was awesome at telling me this and we got through it fine. Crocodile is not as communicative about his feelings, but just tends to rev up the energy to be wilder and wilder. I'm hoping for a mild Christmas so we can run outside.
But there are nice parts to opening gifts. We get gifts for a foster child's biological siblings, and the foster child and our biological children pick out small gifts for each other (notebooks, toothbrushes, etc.) Sometimes it's nice to have the excuse to buy a high-quality toy you know your foster child will love. I'm not much of a shopper throughout the year, so we have some stipend money to spend on Christmas beyond our little $25 Christmas gift allowance.
How has fostering affected your gift giving around the holidays?
We were asked back in September what the foster kids would like for Christmas. An organization works with our agency to donate gifts for foster children to make sure they have a very special Christmas because they are going through so much. It is a good idea, but it does have some unintended consequences at times.
To begin with, we feel the need to fight the way Christmas gifts seem to spiral out of control. A grandparent was only going to get one thing, but then they saw something else, and then they wanted this for stocking gifts. So, we simplify with only giving three gifts to our children, biological and foster. But then that clearly is going to be off-balance when the foster child is receiving gifts from the donations, and possibly gifts from his or her biological family. I don't really want to buy more just to balance the number. Last year we opened them separately so the "balance" wasn't really noticed, but I'm wary of doing that as one biological child is having a very hard time understanding the giving is better than receiving concept. Yes, he needs to learn, but he's young, and he is going through a lot as a foster sibling. So, I think this year I'll pack up the donated gifts in one box and I think it might go under the radar.
Then there is planning for shared gifts. If we buy this for all the kids, but it's for the foster child to open, will it go with the foster child? The answer is yes, and that is completely how it should be, but it just adds a layer to planning things out.
Then there is the gift opening and how it can be overwhelming. With Cricket, she shut down around too many people, too many presents. She was awesome at telling me this and we got through it fine. Crocodile is not as communicative about his feelings, but just tends to rev up the energy to be wilder and wilder. I'm hoping for a mild Christmas so we can run outside.
But there are nice parts to opening gifts. We get gifts for a foster child's biological siblings, and the foster child and our biological children pick out small gifts for each other (notebooks, toothbrushes, etc.) Sometimes it's nice to have the excuse to buy a high-quality toy you know your foster child will love. I'm not much of a shopper throughout the year, so we have some stipend money to spend on Christmas beyond our little $25 Christmas gift allowance.
How has fostering affected your gift giving around the holidays?
Monday, June 1, 2015
Our role as advocates
I attended the first meeting of a foster parent advisory board for our agency. It has me thinking again about how I can do more than just be a foster parent. I started getting distracted by hopes of adoption during our first placement. It's not to say that it's bad to hope for adoption. I hope that children who are adopted are deeply wanted and hoped for. But we realized we wanted to be "career foster parents," maybe not quite the 30-year type, but get a number of years and cases under our belts. Be able to see more of what is going on as a whole and make a greater impact. I pray that instead of being run down by the system, we will have much more to give by hanging on and hanging in there. I pray we will be able to consistently speak up for justice for kids, to get what we need to better care for kids.
The meeting was mainly about foster parent recruitment, support, and retention. I'm very encouraged by the agency employee that is starting this group. She is exactly who we need. It was a small but good group to start things off, then the next meeting will invite any foster parents who want to be involved. Should be interesting. I do feel a little silly about having two years of experience and being in an "advisory" role. It's still really not that much experience. It was a good meeting, though.*
There's also a statewide group of foster parents connecting to speak to legislature, to do more advocacy. I've written my senator about one issue since becoming a foster parent.
What have you done advocacy-wise that wasn't about particular case, but the system?
*Bonus: I figured out one of the other foster parents at the meeting has Pterodactyl's younger siblings. I got to chat with him and see a picture of the babies. The one that looks quite a bit like Pterodactyl also has the same ultra-serious personality. Love it.
The meeting was mainly about foster parent recruitment, support, and retention. I'm very encouraged by the agency employee that is starting this group. She is exactly who we need. It was a small but good group to start things off, then the next meeting will invite any foster parents who want to be involved. Should be interesting. I do feel a little silly about having two years of experience and being in an "advisory" role. It's still really not that much experience. It was a good meeting, though.*
There's also a statewide group of foster parents connecting to speak to legislature, to do more advocacy. I've written my senator about one issue since becoming a foster parent.
What have you done advocacy-wise that wasn't about particular case, but the system?
*Bonus: I figured out one of the other foster parents at the meeting has Pterodactyl's younger siblings. I got to chat with him and see a picture of the babies. The one that looks quite a bit like Pterodactyl also has the same ultra-serious personality. Love it.
Wednesday, May 20, 2015
A bit of the future, a bit of the past
I got an e-mail asking about a respite placement in June for a week, and we said yes. Baby time! When we did respite for Beetle for a week, he was at a similar age. I'm really looking forward to it.
In the meantime, we're a bit on the fence on whether or not to take placement calls. I, as usual, want to just see what happens and say no if it's a placement that's beyond our experience. I feel like we can make it work for a week, especially since I'm off work in June. B is more hesitant, doesn't see why we don't take as many breaks as we can. But for me, the breaks are not fully breaks. Even though I'm not waiting on the phone to ring, I know there are kids that need us. I try to fill up my empty days but I really just want a new case to dive into if we're needed. I've appreciated breaks, but after having one when Cricket left the first time, now another after she left the second time, I'm not hoping to extend this one by our own planning. Now, if we happened to get no calls, great. We have a few more days to decide.
In the meantime, I got to talk to Cricket last week. Rhinoceros bounced upstairs when he heard she was on the phone, and their little conversation was hilarious and of course heartbreaking for me, as I miss hearing them talk together so much. It sounds like she's doing well, and we hope to have a playdate sometime next month.
I reached out to my connections to other past placements as well, hoping for something. I got a response from Pterodactyl's caseworker (or former caseworker now, of course), and two pictures! Oh, it is amazing to look at that little face, now a toddler. To see those same expressions grown up a little. It was the first I had seen of her in a year and a half. Somehow the pictures gave me the connection I longed for and helped me accept that I may never see her in person.
In the meantime, we're a bit on the fence on whether or not to take placement calls. I, as usual, want to just see what happens and say no if it's a placement that's beyond our experience. I feel like we can make it work for a week, especially since I'm off work in June. B is more hesitant, doesn't see why we don't take as many breaks as we can. But for me, the breaks are not fully breaks. Even though I'm not waiting on the phone to ring, I know there are kids that need us. I try to fill up my empty days but I really just want a new case to dive into if we're needed. I've appreciated breaks, but after having one when Cricket left the first time, now another after she left the second time, I'm not hoping to extend this one by our own planning. Now, if we happened to get no calls, great. We have a few more days to decide.
In the meantime, I got to talk to Cricket last week. Rhinoceros bounced upstairs when he heard she was on the phone, and their little conversation was hilarious and of course heartbreaking for me, as I miss hearing them talk together so much. It sounds like she's doing well, and we hope to have a playdate sometime next month.
I reached out to my connections to other past placements as well, hoping for something. I got a response from Pterodactyl's caseworker (or former caseworker now, of course), and two pictures! Oh, it is amazing to look at that little face, now a toddler. To see those same expressions grown up a little. It was the first I had seen of her in a year and a half. Somehow the pictures gave me the connection I longed for and helped me accept that I may never see her in person.
Friday, November 14, 2014
Fears of feeling
Sometimes I don't want to make contact with the families that Pterodactyl, Beetle, and Caterpillar are with now, because I don't want to fully feel how much I miss them. I think about them often, and it feels strange, like I've locked them away somewhere and I'm not fully letting myself remember them and love them. Even when I try and look at their pictures, it's a swirl of mixed emotions as I almost want to look away, to stop as soon as I can. I feel the pain of missing them, but it's the tip of the iceberg.
Sometimes I just feel helpless as Cricket asks again and again for her mom, her sissy. She used to talk about her granny, but does less now. Asking for them less just shows the loss in another sad way. These moments happen coming home from the grocery store, getting ready for naps. She tells me she wants them to come with us in the minivan at the end of the visit. I address the moments lovingly with Cricket, but my own heart stings. I bury these away, too, and it's just the tip of the iceberg again.
B says he wouldn't change how deeply I feel things because I makes me who I am. But I'm afraid of how I feel things. I'm afraid it will lead me to give up. I'm afraid it will turn me into someone I don't recognize because I haven't fully dealt with it all.
I just pray, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus. Help me, Jesus. Please don't waste this pain. And don't let me waste away in it.
Sometimes I just feel helpless as Cricket asks again and again for her mom, her sissy. She used to talk about her granny, but does less now. Asking for them less just shows the loss in another sad way. These moments happen coming home from the grocery store, getting ready for naps. She tells me she wants them to come with us in the minivan at the end of the visit. I address the moments lovingly with Cricket, but my own heart stings. I bury these away, too, and it's just the tip of the iceberg again.
B says he wouldn't change how deeply I feel things because I makes me who I am. But I'm afraid of how I feel things. I'm afraid it will lead me to give up. I'm afraid it will turn me into someone I don't recognize because I haven't fully dealt with it all.
I just pray, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus. Help me, Jesus. Please don't waste this pain. And don't let me waste away in it.
Monday, July 28, 2014
God showing up at the red light
I've been a bit emotional about Caterpillar leaving. Last night was his first overnight visit at the relative's home. He decided to cut his first tooth at the same time. There was lots of crying, and even though I know it was probably mostly about the tooth, that's so hard to hear about literally the most chill and happy baby I've ever parented.
I know I'm going to miss him. Not seeing him grow up sucks. I love that we're doing what we're doing, but sometimes I hate doing it.
Add to that, I was leaving for work at 5:30 when I realized I had totally forgotten to print something I needed. I turned back around, scrambled to find the file on our computers, failed, headed to work in a ball of resigned stress. I was waiting at a red light when I heard a voice from the lane to my right.
It was Pterodactyl's grandma.
Our conversation was shouted across the noise of the street and in Spanish, so I'll just summarize it that I tried to ask about Pterodactyl, she said she's getting so big. I said something about calling, and she said she'd lost my number. One of Pterodactyl's brothers was peering out the window at me. The light turned green and she drove on.
For months I've been debating calling her. I decided asking to meet up to see Pterodactyl is a perfectly reasonable thing, but I haven't made myself do it. I'm held back by wondering if I can handle my emotions of how much I miss Pterodactyl. I'm held back by my general phone phobia, which is multiplied when in Spanish. I'm held back by second-guessing myself, wondering why I would inconvenience her just because I wanted to see her granddaughter again.
I let myself be held back with some things like this. It really gets to me when it keeps me from encouraging others. I've prayed about it, a weakness I want to surrender to God so He can use me more.
It was like God was in the background behind her at the red light, looking me in the eye and saying "no more excuses now."
I know I'm going to miss him. Not seeing him grow up sucks. I love that we're doing what we're doing, but sometimes I hate doing it.
Add to that, I was leaving for work at 5:30 when I realized I had totally forgotten to print something I needed. I turned back around, scrambled to find the file on our computers, failed, headed to work in a ball of resigned stress. I was waiting at a red light when I heard a voice from the lane to my right.
It was Pterodactyl's grandma.
Our conversation was shouted across the noise of the street and in Spanish, so I'll just summarize it that I tried to ask about Pterodactyl, she said she's getting so big. I said something about calling, and she said she'd lost my number. One of Pterodactyl's brothers was peering out the window at me. The light turned green and she drove on.
For months I've been debating calling her. I decided asking to meet up to see Pterodactyl is a perfectly reasonable thing, but I haven't made myself do it. I'm held back by wondering if I can handle my emotions of how much I miss Pterodactyl. I'm held back by my general phone phobia, which is multiplied when in Spanish. I'm held back by second-guessing myself, wondering why I would inconvenience her just because I wanted to see her granddaughter again.
I let myself be held back with some things like this. It really gets to me when it keeps me from encouraging others. I've prayed about it, a weakness I want to surrender to God so He can use me more.
It was like God was in the background behind her at the red light, looking me in the eye and saying "no more excuses now."
Friday, June 13, 2014
Triggered by a onesie
Other foster parents told me that when a foster child moved, it could feel like the death of a child. I don't know what a death of a child feels like, but I grieved quietly and without tears when Pterodactyl left. I didn't always feel sad about her goodbye. I figured it was because I always knew she would likely leave us.
But it settled in more deeply than I knew. I cried months later. I watched her birthday creep up. I watched the anniversary of when she came to us creep up. Now I'm starting to do the same activities as last summer, but without Pterodactyl. That's the part that is like grieving a death: going through the first time that you're experiencing things you did last year without that person. And it didn't kick in until we got to one year after she came to us. Baseball practices with a baby in the wrap. Splash pads while giving a baby a bottle. Having another baby placed with us now is an even stronger reminder that she's not here, because I'm doing baby things, but with another baby. It's all a bit surreal.
Tonight at a moms' group at church, a mom brought her sweet 2-week-old baby girl with her. I had a baby girl around that age this time last year. But it wasn't just that, it was that she was wearing one of the onesies I had for Pterodactyl, one of my favorites. Striped in pink, red, and aqua, bright and cheery.
I couldn't stop looking at that sweet baby girl, and when I tried to throw in a quick comment about how I missed Pterodactyl lately, I lost it in tears. These women are wonderful and it was a great place to have a good cry.
And you know what meant the world to me? A friend who said how she remembered me carrying her around this time last year in a wrap, seeing her for the first time at church. It means the world to me when others remember her. Because otherwise, it really does feel like she's gone from this earth, even if that's not true.
I asked for prayer that either I would be able to see her, or that I would be able to accept not seeing her.
Also, tonight we watched this poem Esther Generation, and this is the part that gripped me:
And let's redefine comfort zone because wherever He takes you
You are with the comforter
Wherever He calls you
You are always in His comfort zone
It brought me back to our decision to foster, that we felt called to leave our comfort zones and complacent lives. But this turns that idea on its head and shows me what it's really about. It's not about leaving my comfort zone to love and care for these kids and help bring families back together. It's about depending on the Comforter as I do so, and knowing He is with me wherever He takes me. He is with me in this strange and lonely grief. Our comfort zones as we imagine them are illusions built by the world. He is our true comfort.
But it settled in more deeply than I knew. I cried months later. I watched her birthday creep up. I watched the anniversary of when she came to us creep up. Now I'm starting to do the same activities as last summer, but without Pterodactyl. That's the part that is like grieving a death: going through the first time that you're experiencing things you did last year without that person. And it didn't kick in until we got to one year after she came to us. Baseball practices with a baby in the wrap. Splash pads while giving a baby a bottle. Having another baby placed with us now is an even stronger reminder that she's not here, because I'm doing baby things, but with another baby. It's all a bit surreal.
Tonight at a moms' group at church, a mom brought her sweet 2-week-old baby girl with her. I had a baby girl around that age this time last year. But it wasn't just that, it was that she was wearing one of the onesies I had for Pterodactyl, one of my favorites. Striped in pink, red, and aqua, bright and cheery.
I couldn't stop looking at that sweet baby girl, and when I tried to throw in a quick comment about how I missed Pterodactyl lately, I lost it in tears. These women are wonderful and it was a great place to have a good cry.
And you know what meant the world to me? A friend who said how she remembered me carrying her around this time last year in a wrap, seeing her for the first time at church. It means the world to me when others remember her. Because otherwise, it really does feel like she's gone from this earth, even if that's not true.
I asked for prayer that either I would be able to see her, or that I would be able to accept not seeing her.
Also, tonight we watched this poem Esther Generation, and this is the part that gripped me:
And let's redefine comfort zone because wherever He takes you
You are with the comforter
Wherever He calls you
You are always in His comfort zone
It brought me back to our decision to foster, that we felt called to leave our comfort zones and complacent lives. But this turns that idea on its head and shows me what it's really about. It's not about leaving my comfort zone to love and care for these kids and help bring families back together. It's about depending on the Comforter as I do so, and knowing He is with me wherever He takes me. He is with me in this strange and lonely grief. Our comfort zones as we imagine them are illusions built by the world. He is our true comfort.
Wednesday, May 28, 2014
Pterodactyl is 1
"It's Pterodactyl's birthday today!"*
This was the first thing Dinosaur said when he woke up. B asked if he missed her sometimes, to which Dinosaur replied he did, and B said, "I... think about her sometimes, too." Haha, B is not the sentimental type with babies, which is fine, because I'm sentimental enough for the both of us.
She's also a big sister. I heard through the grapevine that the twins were born. I wonder how things might have been different if her grandma had decided to stop accepting placement of her daughter's children before Pterodactyl rather than after. She would still be with us and we would be in some sort of long-term case. We wouldn't have had Beetle or Caterpillar.
I think about Pterodactyl a lot lately. Maybe it was the upcoming birthday, or thinking about this season last year when she came to us, or that Caterpillar is at a similar developmental stage as Pterodactyl was when she left.
I can't decide if it's been too long since I've talked to her grandma to ask if we could do respite sometime or a visit at a park. I just want to give her a hug and see that serious little face.
*Posting this not actually on her birthday for confidentiality.
This was the first thing Dinosaur said when he woke up. B asked if he missed her sometimes, to which Dinosaur replied he did, and B said, "I... think about her sometimes, too." Haha, B is not the sentimental type with babies, which is fine, because I'm sentimental enough for the both of us.
She's also a big sister. I heard through the grapevine that the twins were born. I wonder how things might have been different if her grandma had decided to stop accepting placement of her daughter's children before Pterodactyl rather than after. She would still be with us and we would be in some sort of long-term case. We wouldn't have had Beetle or Caterpillar.
I think about Pterodactyl a lot lately. Maybe it was the upcoming birthday, or thinking about this season last year when she came to us, or that Caterpillar is at a similar developmental stage as Pterodactyl was when she left.
I can't decide if it's been too long since I've talked to her grandma to ask if we could do respite sometime or a visit at a park. I just want to give her a hug and see that serious little face.
*Posting this not actually on her birthday for confidentiality.
Tuesday, April 22, 2014
Pterodactyl update
I am usually sensitive to the fact that people are busy. Probably oversensitive, and assuming people don't have time to talk to me when really they would enjoy it. I rarely chit-chat unless it's clear that the other person has nothing else to do. But my heart that has loved and bonded to these kids just might be overriding that tendency, because I found myself keeping Pterodactyl's caseworker from using the bathroom while I drew updates out of her.
I didn't mean to. But she opened the door just a tiny bit in asking about our family, and I might have swooped in a little too eagerly. Then I apologized a lot for delaying her.
It was so good, though, to hear that Pterodactyl is doing well. And though still the queen of serious babies, she laughs more, though with the same low-pitched "heh heh heh" that she had started when she was with us.
Her twin siblings might be born any day now. I have a feeling they need prayer for good health and few complications, and prayers for the family they will be with.
I told the caseworker what I had planned to e-mail this week, a reminder that we would love to see Pterodactyl and/or do respite. I still hold a little hope this might happen sometime, but since it's been three months since I've seen her, and knowing how difficult it is to schedule things with her grandma, I know I should probably just let go.
It's hard. I miss her, especially in these times when we're a family of four. I know she was never meant to be mine, but she's pretty solidly mine in my heart.
I didn't mean to. But she opened the door just a tiny bit in asking about our family, and I might have swooped in a little too eagerly. Then I apologized a lot for delaying her.
It was so good, though, to hear that Pterodactyl is doing well. And though still the queen of serious babies, she laughs more, though with the same low-pitched "heh heh heh" that she had started when she was with us.
Her twin siblings might be born any day now. I have a feeling they need prayer for good health and few complications, and prayers for the family they will be with.
I told the caseworker what I had planned to e-mail this week, a reminder that we would love to see Pterodactyl and/or do respite. I still hold a little hope this might happen sometime, but since it's been three months since I've seen her, and knowing how difficult it is to schedule things with her grandma, I know I should probably just let go.
It's hard. I miss her, especially in these times when we're a family of four. I know she was never meant to be mine, but she's pretty solidly mine in my heart.
Wednesday, March 12, 2014
Blessed by Pterodactyl
I mentioned that I had a few reasons for wanting the twins as a placement. One reason was to have a connection to Pterodactyl. I realized that wasn't a very important reason when there were other things to consider, but I couldn't help but picture monthly sibling visits and getting to see her. I haven't seen her for about two months, and though I don't think about her constantly, I miss her. I tried suggesting that her grandma call us for respite, but it hasn't happened.
So, I'm going to connect in my own way and write up the same thing for her that I just wrote for Beetle.
What I Learned from Pterodactyl
So, I'm going to connect in my own way and write up the same thing for her that I just wrote for Beetle.
What I Learned from Pterodactyl
- I learned that the time after a baby's birth can be heartbreaking instead of joyous. Even though my first days with my biological babies were not perfect, I will not take for granted the happy memories.
- I learned that foster care is full of awkward situations.
- I learned having birth parents at doctor's appointments can be a great thing. Even when it's awkward.
- I learned my biological sons love babies and have big hearts.
- I learned that some birth parents will disappoint us, and that it's important to assume the best even when it's a stretch of the imagination.
- I learned that the future is never certain. I learned this about Pterodactyl's future with us, but I see my children's future differently now. I realized how easily and readily I imagine future days that are not promised to me, that I'm not entitled to.
- I learned that I'm more selfish and judgmental than I thought I was.
- Concerned expression. Pterodactyl is by far the most serious baby I've ever met, and Dinosaur was not a particularly smiley baby. Even when she smiled and laughed, within seconds she went back to this look of "What do you think you're doing exactly?" It was so much a part of her that it cracked us up.
- Cheeks. I'd never had a baby with cheeks!
- Hair. She was born with lots of silky hair, which took on a life of its own. It did make me nervous at times that I wasn't caring for it properly despite my best efforts to be informed, but how much fun to have a baby with a full head of hair.
- Baby girl clothes. If I never have a girl again, a selfish little part of me is happy that I had the chance to enjoy shopping for baby girl clothes. And I'm not usually much of a shopper.
- Her love for baths. It was a nice time to be just the two of us.
- Her low-pitched little baby voice. At 7 months by the time she moved, she wasn't talking, but when she made little noises, they were these quiet little things. Her (very rare) laugh was like "heh heh."
- Her name. I can't share it, of course, but her mom picked a name that I had never heard before and may have never chosen for my own child because pronunciation difficulties, but I thought it was just beautiful all the same. I loved saying it. I'm dying to know what she's going to name the twins.
Wednesday, February 12, 2014
Foster brother love
This week is craaaazy with little sleep and lots of appointments. Plus I'm teaching 3 nights this week, whereas when Pterodactyl arrived, I was off work. It's not going to get easier, as we have 6 hours of training to complete this month, too. Couldn't that have been offered in January, guys? But we're doing okay, and I'm remembering that it's not about us, and not about getting recognition/pity that we're inconvenienced by this or that.
Now, on to a little story about each of my bio sons reacting to Beetle.
Rhinoceros likes to identify lately. "This is a coffee." "This is a sun." Heaven help you if he's wrong, and you wish to correct him. So, he saw Beetle tucked into my Moby wrap and identified, "This is a baby. This is Beetle." Later that evening, I was helping him with his pants and he patted my chest and looked down my shirt. I reminded him that this area is private, and he finally said, "This is a baby?" I figured out he thought I was somehow hiding Beetle down my shirt or inside my body.
Dinosaur loves babies, apparently not just Pterodactyl. He talks about how cute Beetle is and that he loves him. I had a few minutes before work and told him I had time to read him a book. He asked, "Can we read the book about Pterodactyl? I want to show it to Beetle." It was comforting to me to know that he's processing that the two babies have something in common: they come here, they're cute, and they leave, but we can still remember them. Maybe he hasn't connected all of that yet, but it seems he's working on it.
Dinosaur has also made a Mii on our Wii for both Beetle and Pterodactyl, joining about 50 others, as creating Miis is his favorite hobby right now.
Now, on to a little story about each of my bio sons reacting to Beetle.
Rhinoceros likes to identify lately. "This is a coffee." "This is a sun." Heaven help you if he's wrong, and you wish to correct him. So, he saw Beetle tucked into my Moby wrap and identified, "This is a baby. This is Beetle." Later that evening, I was helping him with his pants and he patted my chest and looked down my shirt. I reminded him that this area is private, and he finally said, "This is a baby?" I figured out he thought I was somehow hiding Beetle down my shirt or inside my body.
Dinosaur loves babies, apparently not just Pterodactyl. He talks about how cute Beetle is and that he loves him. I had a few minutes before work and told him I had time to read him a book. He asked, "Can we read the book about Pterodactyl? I want to show it to Beetle." It was comforting to me to know that he's processing that the two babies have something in common: they come here, they're cute, and they leave, but we can still remember them. Maybe he hasn't connected all of that yet, but it seems he's working on it.
Dinosaur has also made a Mii on our Wii for both Beetle and Pterodactyl, joining about 50 others, as creating Miis is his favorite hobby right now.
Monday, February 3, 2014
Multiplying before our eyes
There's one bit of news about Pterodactyl and her mom I didn't blog about yet. Before she moved, we learned her mom was pregnant. What seems like impossibly soon to be pregnant.
So, we knew when that baby was born, or shortly before, the agency would probably want to match us up. We decided we wouldn't stay empty just to wait on that placement, but if it all fell into place, that would probably be a good thing. We know the family, and while I wouldn't say we had a positive relationship with her mom, it wasn't clearly negative either, which is better than her relationship with some others at the agency. The grandma who has the siblings knows us and actually said she wanted this baby with us.
So, we're ready, waiting on the next placement, come what may.
Then I got an e-mail from our licensing worker that there are BABIES due in June, Pterodactyl's siblings. Twins. Would we consider taking them, if they came into care?
Sooo... we were only planning on taking one child at a time. Maybe reconsidering in the future, but we weren't there yet. And oh man, twins. I have friends and family with twins. It's insane, especially as newborns. And have I mentioned that B is not a newborn person? I'm like 50% a newborn person. I can do it, but I'm a much more cheery person when they get to 6 months or so. But poor B is in near misery. And TWINS. And he kind of just wanted 2 or 3 kids originally.
So, we asked some questions about whether the agency is hoping we would stay without other placements to wait on the twins. We're trying to figure out what the need is. Figure out what this "if they come into care" is about, because it really seems unlikely they wouldn't. Lordy, if Pterodactyl's mom was in a good place to try out parenting, it doesn't seem like twins would be the best bet. And B, bless his heart, says of course we would take them. He had his head in his hands and swore a bit first, though.
B: "This is how it starts! Then you turn around and you have 10 kids!"
Me: "They are literally multiplying before our eyes."
Oh, foster care. It's true we wouldn't write these stories this way. I did feel led to pray for Pterodactyl's mom Sunday night with our small group. This must have been why.
So, we knew when that baby was born, or shortly before, the agency would probably want to match us up. We decided we wouldn't stay empty just to wait on that placement, but if it all fell into place, that would probably be a good thing. We know the family, and while I wouldn't say we had a positive relationship with her mom, it wasn't clearly negative either, which is better than her relationship with some others at the agency. The grandma who has the siblings knows us and actually said she wanted this baby with us.
So, we're ready, waiting on the next placement, come what may.
Then I got an e-mail from our licensing worker that there are BABIES due in June, Pterodactyl's siblings. Twins. Would we consider taking them, if they came into care?
Sooo... we were only planning on taking one child at a time. Maybe reconsidering in the future, but we weren't there yet. And oh man, twins. I have friends and family with twins. It's insane, especially as newborns. And have I mentioned that B is not a newborn person? I'm like 50% a newborn person. I can do it, but I'm a much more cheery person when they get to 6 months or so. But poor B is in near misery. And TWINS. And he kind of just wanted 2 or 3 kids originally.
So, we asked some questions about whether the agency is hoping we would stay without other placements to wait on the twins. We're trying to figure out what the need is. Figure out what this "if they come into care" is about, because it really seems unlikely they wouldn't. Lordy, if Pterodactyl's mom was in a good place to try out parenting, it doesn't seem like twins would be the best bet. And B, bless his heart, says of course we would take them. He had his head in his hands and swore a bit first, though.
B: "This is how it starts! Then you turn around and you have 10 kids!"
Me: "They are literally multiplying before our eyes."
Oh, foster care. It's true we wouldn't write these stories this way. I did feel led to pray for Pterodactyl's mom Sunday night with our small group. This must have been why.
Friday, January 24, 2014
"Is she your baby?"
I saw Pterodactyl today, for the first time since before Christmas, when she moved out.
I had some things to give her grandma, which I could have passed on through the agency, but I called her, hoping that I could just bring them by and then I could see Pterodactyl for a moment. I was initially going to go yesterday, but her grandma asked that I come today, since the caseworker was coming for a home visit anyway. I think she thought we would carpool, but I just went with it. I tend to communicate poorly on the phone and even more poorly when it's in Spanish, and agree to almost anything.
For awhile yesterday, I just felt like a mess. I was anxious, tense, jittery, building up more and more throughout the day. Then the plans were postponed until today, and I felt sudden relief. I hadn't realized it, but I have had this underlying tension of knowing that I would see Pterodactyl again sometime and not knowing how I'd feel. I miss her, more than I actively realize. Saying goodbye wasn't the heart-ripping devastation that I expected, but it affected me. Talking about this out loud with B helped me a lot, and I felt much better today, though still anxious as I drove there, and as I waited, as bad weather delayed her grandma. I feel a little guilty that I didn't cancel because it seemed like she'd had a really long day, but I really needed to do this today and move on. I only stayed 5 minutes, so hopefully I wasn't too much of a pain.
She looked the same as she did one month ago to me, just a little bigger. She is still the most serious baby I've ever seen, and stared at me, with her mouth a little open. It felt good to hold her and talk to her. She didn't smile (serious baby), but she did lift up her hand to touch my face. She did this once before, when I had her in child care during a foster care training, and she had been just miserable for them. I went to get her and brought her up to join me for the training in a baby carrier, and she just stared at my face, stared and stared, then lifted her hand to touch it. Like she was saying, "Oh yeah, you!" Maybe not an exclamation point; she's a little too serious for that.
What I hadn't considered is how my visit would affect her biological brothers, who also live with her grandma. The older asked me, "Is she your baby?" I can't quite remember the tone, if it was afraid that I'd say yes, or if it was challenging me. I reassured him that she was staying there, and I had just come to visit because she doesn't live with me anymore. Then the younger brother, who is 2 or 3, looked me in the eye and said something in toddler speak, but I believe the intended message was "Lady, she's ours. She stays here."
We talked about how she could come stay with us for an afternoon or evening sometime. I would like my boys to see her, too, but I didn't mention that. I got out of their way and gave her one more kiss, and drove home. Dinosaur and Rhinoceros were in bed but awake, and I gave them each a kiss. A kiss to the child that's not here anymore, kisses to the children that are.
I had some things to give her grandma, which I could have passed on through the agency, but I called her, hoping that I could just bring them by and then I could see Pterodactyl for a moment. I was initially going to go yesterday, but her grandma asked that I come today, since the caseworker was coming for a home visit anyway. I think she thought we would carpool, but I just went with it. I tend to communicate poorly on the phone and even more poorly when it's in Spanish, and agree to almost anything.
For awhile yesterday, I just felt like a mess. I was anxious, tense, jittery, building up more and more throughout the day. Then the plans were postponed until today, and I felt sudden relief. I hadn't realized it, but I have had this underlying tension of knowing that I would see Pterodactyl again sometime and not knowing how I'd feel. I miss her, more than I actively realize. Saying goodbye wasn't the heart-ripping devastation that I expected, but it affected me. Talking about this out loud with B helped me a lot, and I felt much better today, though still anxious as I drove there, and as I waited, as bad weather delayed her grandma. I feel a little guilty that I didn't cancel because it seemed like she'd had a really long day, but I really needed to do this today and move on. I only stayed 5 minutes, so hopefully I wasn't too much of a pain.
She looked the same as she did one month ago to me, just a little bigger. She is still the most serious baby I've ever seen, and stared at me, with her mouth a little open. It felt good to hold her and talk to her. She didn't smile (serious baby), but she did lift up her hand to touch my face. She did this once before, when I had her in child care during a foster care training, and she had been just miserable for them. I went to get her and brought her up to join me for the training in a baby carrier, and she just stared at my face, stared and stared, then lifted her hand to touch it. Like she was saying, "Oh yeah, you!" Maybe not an exclamation point; she's a little too serious for that.
What I hadn't considered is how my visit would affect her biological brothers, who also live with her grandma. The older asked me, "Is she your baby?" I can't quite remember the tone, if it was afraid that I'd say yes, or if it was challenging me. I reassured him that she was staying there, and I had just come to visit because she doesn't live with me anymore. Then the younger brother, who is 2 or 3, looked me in the eye and said something in toddler speak, but I believe the intended message was "Lady, she's ours. She stays here."
We talked about how she could come stay with us for an afternoon or evening sometime. I would like my boys to see her, too, but I didn't mention that. I got out of their way and gave her one more kiss, and drove home. Dinosaur and Rhinoceros were in bed but awake, and I gave them each a kiss. A kiss to the child that's not here anymore, kisses to the children that are.
Tuesday, January 7, 2014
Introducing Dinosaur
Since we don't have any foster kids in our home right now, I thought I'd take a little time to write about my biological kids and how they've done with fostering. I'll start with Dinosaur, our five-year-old.
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5 Things about Dinosaur
1. He loves music and dance. One of his favorite things is to turn on some music and make up his own dance moves. Many of these are inspired by Dance Dance Revolution, another favorite of his.
2. He loves all things silly. If you will rough house with Dinosaur, he will be glued to you for the rest of the time you're in his presence. He is also big into silly rhymes and nonsense lately. I'm a sucker for his big grin.
3. He knows his dates and times. At age 2, Dinosaur became obsessed with clocks, finding them wherever we went and making clocks at home. Before he was 4, he could tell time accurately, and he loves to live by a schedule. If you need something to happen by 8:15, just tell Dinosaur to remind you when it's 8:15. He remembers and focuses on dates as well, remembering when we visited family or what day his preschool started in Sept. 2012. His memories are always expressed in his sweet and peculiar way, reciting how old people were and what day it was.
4. He loves school and reading. Dinosaur did not look back when he went to preschool or kindergarten. He likes the activity of it all, and I think he thinks it's all for him. He has a fantastic kindergarten teacher and has just flourished there, reading far beyond what I expected him to at this age.
5. He is not big on empathy and conscience. If I'm going to brag on my kid with most of these, I'll throw in a weakness. I'm pretty sure no punishment or consequence has ever made Dinosaur feel bad for something he did wrong. He is also pretty unaffected by others feeling bad, and has never been one to try to make people feel better. Some of this is normal 5-year-old self-centeredness, but I really do think it's part of his personality as well. I have a double dose of empathy and B has a... meager dose. It's a good balance, so I hope Dinosaur finds his double-empathy match some day.
Dinosaur and Fostering
Dinosaur welcomed Pterodactyl eagerly and was enamored with her babyness. He would baby talk to her constantly, sometimes in his own odd way ("It's so dark in your mouth!"). Every time someone came from the agency to our home or we dropped her off for a visit, he would inform all social workers, "She is such a cute baby." This was a bit of a surprise to me, as when his biological brother was born, he ignored him as much as possible and acted out to get attention. With Pterodactyl, he adjusted quite easily and happily. He was a little too happy at times, and getting millimeters from her face and just not leaving her alone.
Pterodactyl is black/Hispanic and Dinosaur and Rhinoceros are white with white blond hair and blue eyes. Dinosaur processed a lot about skin color through Pterodactyl being a part of our family. He attends a school with more than 50% non-white students, and our church is more racially diverse than most, but the immediacy of having her in our home brought up more conversations. I think this was very positive, and while it wouldn't be a reason alone for us to foster, I'm grateful we had many opportunities to talk about race and people who look different than us. He hasn't seemed to pick up the lessons we try to teach him about taking care of others and sharing what we have, but I'm hoping they will stick with him over time.
Probably the hardest part of foster care for Dinosaur was the ambiguity. We tried to prepare him for our first placement, but we couldn't tell him on what day a baby or little boy or girl would come to our house, which doesn't sit well with his calendar obsession. We tried to prepare him for when she would move, but first we thought that would be in June, then September, then October, then November, and finally in December we had one day's notice. While I think that made it difficult for him to understand what was going on, he wasn't upset by it.
Saying goodbye wasn't emotional for him, and he's been hard to read in this transition. I've had to intentionally ask him how he's doing, or I don't know if he would have talked about her at all. For the week after she left, he said he was sad a few times, and confused once. This was all matter-of-fact, no tears, though the one that broke my heart was, "I want to give her a kiss." He did love kissing her so much and she brought a little extra joy to his life.
He is looking forward to a new little one in the house (and of course wants to know WHEN), though there was still some confusion if this was a baby in my tummy and why we weren't getting a kid his age. We've had lots of time for me to focus attention on him and his brother, as we had a week in Canada for the holidays, a week home during school break, and now school has been cancelled two days due to weather. Then today he came down with a fever as well, so maybe I'll have extra time again with him tomorrow. We may start to drive each other a little batty, but I think there's a reason God is giving me some extra time with my big little guy.
5 Things about Dinosaur
1. He loves music and dance. One of his favorite things is to turn on some music and make up his own dance moves. Many of these are inspired by Dance Dance Revolution, another favorite of his.
2. He loves all things silly. If you will rough house with Dinosaur, he will be glued to you for the rest of the time you're in his presence. He is also big into silly rhymes and nonsense lately. I'm a sucker for his big grin.
3. He knows his dates and times. At age 2, Dinosaur became obsessed with clocks, finding them wherever we went and making clocks at home. Before he was 4, he could tell time accurately, and he loves to live by a schedule. If you need something to happen by 8:15, just tell Dinosaur to remind you when it's 8:15. He remembers and focuses on dates as well, remembering when we visited family or what day his preschool started in Sept. 2012. His memories are always expressed in his sweet and peculiar way, reciting how old people were and what day it was.
4. He loves school and reading. Dinosaur did not look back when he went to preschool or kindergarten. He likes the activity of it all, and I think he thinks it's all for him. He has a fantastic kindergarten teacher and has just flourished there, reading far beyond what I expected him to at this age.
5. He is not big on empathy and conscience. If I'm going to brag on my kid with most of these, I'll throw in a weakness. I'm pretty sure no punishment or consequence has ever made Dinosaur feel bad for something he did wrong. He is also pretty unaffected by others feeling bad, and has never been one to try to make people feel better. Some of this is normal 5-year-old self-centeredness, but I really do think it's part of his personality as well. I have a double dose of empathy and B has a... meager dose. It's a good balance, so I hope Dinosaur finds his double-empathy match some day.
Dinosaur and Fostering
Dinosaur welcomed Pterodactyl eagerly and was enamored with her babyness. He would baby talk to her constantly, sometimes in his own odd way ("It's so dark in your mouth!"). Every time someone came from the agency to our home or we dropped her off for a visit, he would inform all social workers, "She is such a cute baby." This was a bit of a surprise to me, as when his biological brother was born, he ignored him as much as possible and acted out to get attention. With Pterodactyl, he adjusted quite easily and happily. He was a little too happy at times, and getting millimeters from her face and just not leaving her alone.
Pterodactyl is black/Hispanic and Dinosaur and Rhinoceros are white with white blond hair and blue eyes. Dinosaur processed a lot about skin color through Pterodactyl being a part of our family. He attends a school with more than 50% non-white students, and our church is more racially diverse than most, but the immediacy of having her in our home brought up more conversations. I think this was very positive, and while it wouldn't be a reason alone for us to foster, I'm grateful we had many opportunities to talk about race and people who look different than us. He hasn't seemed to pick up the lessons we try to teach him about taking care of others and sharing what we have, but I'm hoping they will stick with him over time.
Probably the hardest part of foster care for Dinosaur was the ambiguity. We tried to prepare him for our first placement, but we couldn't tell him on what day a baby or little boy or girl would come to our house, which doesn't sit well with his calendar obsession. We tried to prepare him for when she would move, but first we thought that would be in June, then September, then October, then November, and finally in December we had one day's notice. While I think that made it difficult for him to understand what was going on, he wasn't upset by it.
Saying goodbye wasn't emotional for him, and he's been hard to read in this transition. I've had to intentionally ask him how he's doing, or I don't know if he would have talked about her at all. For the week after she left, he said he was sad a few times, and confused once. This was all matter-of-fact, no tears, though the one that broke my heart was, "I want to give her a kiss." He did love kissing her so much and she brought a little extra joy to his life.
He is looking forward to a new little one in the house (and of course wants to know WHEN), though there was still some confusion if this was a baby in my tummy and why we weren't getting a kid his age. We've had lots of time for me to focus attention on him and his brother, as we had a week in Canada for the holidays, a week home during school break, and now school has been cancelled two days due to weather. Then today he came down with a fever as well, so maybe I'll have extra time again with him tomorrow. We may start to drive each other a little batty, but I think there's a reason God is giving me some extra time with my big little guy.
Wednesday, January 1, 2014
Our fostering year 2013 in a timeline
I've decided to recap the year of our fostering journey, a journey I didn't really know we'd be on a year ago. Plus, I just know the process and fostering experience is so different for different people and locations that I thought it may be an interesting to share my year in foster care.
Early January 2013 - I bought five matching Christmas stockings in after-Christmas sales. We had added to our stockings haphazardly and I wanted them to coordinate. But what's the funny part about this? We hadn't decided yet that we would have three kids. This was still up for debate, though we decided for sure in the next couple of weeks. I smiled as I put them up this year. We're not a permanent family of five, but even in our in-between waiting phases, we're a family of five.
January 13 - B and I heard a sermon that strongly confirmed our feeling that we needed to do foster care out of obedience to God. Read more here.
January 29 - We got our first response to an inquiry on foster parenting from the agency that we ended up getting licensed with.
February 14 - We had a one-on-one orientation session in our home with our agency.
March 8 - First half of training
March 14 - First home visit
April 4-11 - B and I took a fantastic 10th anniversary trip to the Dominican Republic. It was an excellent combination of relaxation away from kids as well a bit of exploration and adventure. And I'm so glad we made it happen before we got licensed.
April 20 - Second half of training
April 23 - Second home visit (I'm re-reading old e-mails to find these dates and I wrote to the licensing worker "I'm looking forward to the home visit tomorrow!" I'm such a geek.)
May 8 - Licensed! We were licensed for one child, 0-2. It all felt so fast, with the few issues we encountered being very minor.
Late May - First placement call at 10:30 pm for a 2-year-old boy, and we are a nervous WRECK on the phone. I asked his birth date and it turns out he was almost 3, which made him older than Rhinoceros. We decided that was a dealbreaker.
Late May - Second placement call mid-morning for a newborn girl still at the hospital. They are not 100% sure she is going into care as there is a relative that may be able to take her. We say yes, and wait.
Late May - The next day, we get a call around 10 am that we need to be there to pick up the newborn girl by discharge at 11. I meet her and her birth mom. I bring home 3-day-old Pterodactyl. Case prediction: she will move to her grandma soon.
Sometime in July - The move to her grandma is not happening. We settle into this being a longer-term placement.
Late July - First time to court for adjudication. I don't want to go into much detail here, but I thought I'd mention when it was just to give an idea of "a year in fostering."
Late September - The move to her grandma IS happening after all, but we're not sure when.
Late October - Second time to court, review. Uneventful.
Late October - Family team meeting about Pterodactyl's move to her grandma. The goal is set that the transition would be complete within a month.
Late November - The transition was slowed down by daycare issues. We took Pterodactyl with us out-of-state for Thanksgiving.
Dec. 12 - I start making waves because the transition has no defined end still. A deadline is set for her grandma to set up daycare.
Dec. 18 - Her grandma has not set up daycare. Pterodactyl will stay with us indefinitely.
Dec. 19 - Her grandma HAS set up daycare.
Dec. 20 - Pterodactyl moves to her grandma at least for Christmas while we travel to Canada.
Dec. 26 - We get word that her move is official.
Whew. Well, I couldn't have predicted any of that. I wouldn't have guessed we would have a newborn. I wouldn't have guessed we would spend more than half of the placement planning for an any-day-now goodbye. But I don't write our story, or Pterodactyl's. God is doing more than we can imagine. For reasons I don't entirely understand, Pterodactyl needed our love and care in our home for 7 months, and now she needs to be with her grandma.
And 2014? Who knows besides God. We're taking another week and a half off at least before going on the call list. Slowing down as a family of four has felt very, very nice. But I've got a nursery with an empty crib, and five stockings ready for next Christmas.
Early January 2013 - I bought five matching Christmas stockings in after-Christmas sales. We had added to our stockings haphazardly and I wanted them to coordinate. But what's the funny part about this? We hadn't decided yet that we would have three kids. This was still up for debate, though we decided for sure in the next couple of weeks. I smiled as I put them up this year. We're not a permanent family of five, but even in our in-between waiting phases, we're a family of five.
January 13 - B and I heard a sermon that strongly confirmed our feeling that we needed to do foster care out of obedience to God. Read more here.
January 29 - We got our first response to an inquiry on foster parenting from the agency that we ended up getting licensed with.
February 14 - We had a one-on-one orientation session in our home with our agency.
March 8 - First half of training
March 14 - First home visit
April 4-11 - B and I took a fantastic 10th anniversary trip to the Dominican Republic. It was an excellent combination of relaxation away from kids as well a bit of exploration and adventure. And I'm so glad we made it happen before we got licensed.
April 20 - Second half of training
April 23 - Second home visit (I'm re-reading old e-mails to find these dates and I wrote to the licensing worker "I'm looking forward to the home visit tomorrow!" I'm such a geek.)
May 8 - Licensed! We were licensed for one child, 0-2. It all felt so fast, with the few issues we encountered being very minor.
Late May - First placement call at 10:30 pm for a 2-year-old boy, and we are a nervous WRECK on the phone. I asked his birth date and it turns out he was almost 3, which made him older than Rhinoceros. We decided that was a dealbreaker.
Late May - Second placement call mid-morning for a newborn girl still at the hospital. They are not 100% sure she is going into care as there is a relative that may be able to take her. We say yes, and wait.
Late May - The next day, we get a call around 10 am that we need to be there to pick up the newborn girl by discharge at 11. I meet her and her birth mom. I bring home 3-day-old Pterodactyl. Case prediction: she will move to her grandma soon.
Sometime in July - The move to her grandma is not happening. We settle into this being a longer-term placement.
Late July - First time to court for adjudication. I don't want to go into much detail here, but I thought I'd mention when it was just to give an idea of "a year in fostering."
Late September - The move to her grandma IS happening after all, but we're not sure when.
Late October - Second time to court, review. Uneventful.
Late October - Family team meeting about Pterodactyl's move to her grandma. The goal is set that the transition would be complete within a month.
Late November - The transition was slowed down by daycare issues. We took Pterodactyl with us out-of-state for Thanksgiving.
Dec. 12 - I start making waves because the transition has no defined end still. A deadline is set for her grandma to set up daycare.
Dec. 18 - Her grandma has not set up daycare. Pterodactyl will stay with us indefinitely.
Dec. 19 - Her grandma HAS set up daycare.
Dec. 20 - Pterodactyl moves to her grandma at least for Christmas while we travel to Canada.
Dec. 26 - We get word that her move is official.
Whew. Well, I couldn't have predicted any of that. I wouldn't have guessed we would have a newborn. I wouldn't have guessed we would spend more than half of the placement planning for an any-day-now goodbye. But I don't write our story, or Pterodactyl's. God is doing more than we can imagine. For reasons I don't entirely understand, Pterodactyl needed our love and care in our home for 7 months, and now she needs to be with her grandma.
And 2014? Who knows besides God. We're taking another week and a half off at least before going on the call list. Slowing down as a family of four has felt very, very nice. But I've got a nursery with an empty crib, and five stockings ready for next Christmas.
Friday, December 27, 2013
Goodbye traditions: plans and reality
Merry Christmas! A week ago we said our goodbyes to Pterodactyl, then left the next morning for Canada. We spent Christmas with B's family, busy with the boys' little cousins, a little playing in the snow, a lot of church. Pterodactyl never came with us on a trip there, so it felt mostly normal to be there with just the two boys. I did miss her, and felt an emptiness at the way it sometimes felt like she had never been a part of our family. We came home to a message that all was well with her placement with her grandma, and she will stay there as an official move. So, I'm relieved that she won't have the back-and-forth I'd feared, but it's still a little unreal. I kept thinking today that I should be taking her to her Friday morning visit. Last night I found myself almost asking B if he had brought up the bottles for nighttime feedings. It was a seven-month-old habit.
I thought I'd write up some ways we were intentional about our first goodbye, the plans and the reality.
Visual Reminders
I wanted to have visual reminders that Pterodactyl was a part of our family and borrowed two ideas that I liked. A good friend of mine that's a foster parent made small canvas squares painted bright colors with a handprint done in white. I had all the supplies ready back in November when I thought she was moving, and there they sat for two months. So, last Friday I rushed to get it all ready, and Dinosaur wanted to be involved in the painting and choosing of colors. Maybe I should have asked my friend what paint she used, as ours turned out a little more rough and sloppy. I still like them, though now I'm thinking of redecorating the nursery so that a random selection of colors blends in a little better. Left is Dinosaur, middle is Rhinoceros, and right is Pterodactyl.
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Our other visual reminder idea comes from Karen at Nuggets from the Nut House: buying two Christmas ornaments, one to go with the child and one to decorate the tree for years to come to remember each foster child placed with us. Hallmark happened to have the perfect ornament this year for Pterodactyl and her lovely chocolate skin. I found it sometime in November and planned to get around to going to a store and picking it up, only to find that one should not wait for Hallmark ornaments. Suddenly they were out of stock online, and as I called around, five local stores were sold out. I found one with two remaining ornaments and made sure the clerk put them aside for me to pick up ASAP. What I didn't expect with this tradition is how it would help my bio kids process the goodbye. I showed Dinosaur how we wrapped up one ornament to go with Pterodactyl and open with her grandma. Then I told him when Pterodactyl is older and asks about the ornament, her grandma could tell her about us and how we loved her and took care of her. I can't promise that this will actually happen, but Dinosaur soaked it up and seemed very comforted by the possibility.
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Pictures
I planned to have a photobook of Pterodactyl to give to her grandma (and print an extra for us to keep), and a family picture of us including Pterodactyl taken close to when she moved. Well, the book is mostly up-to-date, but since we only had a day's notice she was going to her grandma and then went out of town, I still need to finish it and print it. We did manage a family picture by the Christmas tree, but we had to use the camera on a timer and ended up with one with the flash that makes us look a bit washed out and scary, and one without the flash in which I'm blurry. Oh well, they'll do.
Goodbye Celebration
We hoped to invite friends and my brother and sister-in-law (the only family that lives nearby) over to have a little goodbye open house with dessert and a chance to see Pterodactyl before she moved. Yeah, this didn't happen due to short notice. I've had to just send e-mail updates with pictures and that will have to be enough. Most did know that anytime they saw her in the past two months could be the last, so I don't think anyone was blindsided by it. I think a party would have been good for Dinosaur and Rhinoceros to understand what was happening, though.
Taking a Day Off
We had hoped that we would be able to take a day off when a foster child moved, so that we could all be there for the goodbye and just to make sure we had enough family time. By coincidence, B had taken the day off because he had some paid days off to use up before the new year, I didn't work that day, and Dinosaur's school was closed because of an ice storm. So, that made it easy! We were all there to say goodbye, though I had the boys just say goodbye from the minivan. Everyone got to give a kiss, and we drove home. Then the power went out at our house shortly before bedtime, and instead of drowning my mixed emotions in internet and TV, I finished wrapping gifts by lantern light and read with candles and silence. I didn't know I needed that silence, but it was peaceful. And I liked imagining that the house was acknowledging something had changed and decided to shut things off for awhile.
I thought I'd write up some ways we were intentional about our first goodbye, the plans and the reality.
Visual Reminders
I wanted to have visual reminders that Pterodactyl was a part of our family and borrowed two ideas that I liked. A good friend of mine that's a foster parent made small canvas squares painted bright colors with a handprint done in white. I had all the supplies ready back in November when I thought she was moving, and there they sat for two months. So, last Friday I rushed to get it all ready, and Dinosaur wanted to be involved in the painting and choosing of colors. Maybe I should have asked my friend what paint she used, as ours turned out a little more rough and sloppy. I still like them, though now I'm thinking of redecorating the nursery so that a random selection of colors blends in a little better. Left is Dinosaur, middle is Rhinoceros, and right is Pterodactyl.
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Our other visual reminder idea comes from Karen at Nuggets from the Nut House: buying two Christmas ornaments, one to go with the child and one to decorate the tree for years to come to remember each foster child placed with us. Hallmark happened to have the perfect ornament this year for Pterodactyl and her lovely chocolate skin. I found it sometime in November and planned to get around to going to a store and picking it up, only to find that one should not wait for Hallmark ornaments. Suddenly they were out of stock online, and as I called around, five local stores were sold out. I found one with two remaining ornaments and made sure the clerk put them aside for me to pick up ASAP. What I didn't expect with this tradition is how it would help my bio kids process the goodbye. I showed Dinosaur how we wrapped up one ornament to go with Pterodactyl and open with her grandma. Then I told him when Pterodactyl is older and asks about the ornament, her grandma could tell her about us and how we loved her and took care of her. I can't promise that this will actually happen, but Dinosaur soaked it up and seemed very comforted by the possibility.
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Pictures
I planned to have a photobook of Pterodactyl to give to her grandma (and print an extra for us to keep), and a family picture of us including Pterodactyl taken close to when she moved. Well, the book is mostly up-to-date, but since we only had a day's notice she was going to her grandma and then went out of town, I still need to finish it and print it. We did manage a family picture by the Christmas tree, but we had to use the camera on a timer and ended up with one with the flash that makes us look a bit washed out and scary, and one without the flash in which I'm blurry. Oh well, they'll do.
Goodbye Celebration
We hoped to invite friends and my brother and sister-in-law (the only family that lives nearby) over to have a little goodbye open house with dessert and a chance to see Pterodactyl before she moved. Yeah, this didn't happen due to short notice. I've had to just send e-mail updates with pictures and that will have to be enough. Most did know that anytime they saw her in the past two months could be the last, so I don't think anyone was blindsided by it. I think a party would have been good for Dinosaur and Rhinoceros to understand what was happening, though.
Taking a Day Off
We had hoped that we would be able to take a day off when a foster child moved, so that we could all be there for the goodbye and just to make sure we had enough family time. By coincidence, B had taken the day off because he had some paid days off to use up before the new year, I didn't work that day, and Dinosaur's school was closed because of an ice storm. So, that made it easy! We were all there to say goodbye, though I had the boys just say goodbye from the minivan. Everyone got to give a kiss, and we drove home. Then the power went out at our house shortly before bedtime, and instead of drowning my mixed emotions in internet and TV, I finished wrapping gifts by lantern light and read with candles and silence. I didn't know I needed that silence, but it was peaceful. And I liked imagining that the house was acknowledging something had changed and decided to shut things off for awhile.
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