Strychnine in the Well

We have been so amazed by people's support and love through this entire process.  Every time we announce another small victory, it seems like all of Facebook just erupts in joy.  It honestly has taken us very by surprise and has greatly humbled us.  We honestly expected more people like Rachel Lynde:

"Well, Marilla, I'll just tell you plain that I think you're doing a mighty foolish thing--a risky thing, that's what. You don't know what you're getting. You're bringing a strange child into your house and home and you don't know a single thing about him nor what his disposition is like nor what sort of parents he had nor how he's likely to turn out. Why, it was only last week I read in the paper how a man and his wife up west of the Island took a boy out of an orphan asylum and he set fire to the house at night--set it ON PURPOSE, Marilla--and nearly burnt them to a crisp in their beds. And I know another case where an adopted boy used to suck the eggs--they couldn't break him of it. If you had asked my advice in the matter--which you didn't do, Marilla--I'd have said for mercy's sake not to think of such a thing, that's what ... I hope it will turn out all right only don't say I didn't warn you if he burns Green Gables down or puts strychnine in the well--I heard of a case over in New Brunswick where an orphan asylum child did that and the whole family died in fearful agonies. Only, it was a girl in that instance."

And to be honest, we do have a couple Mrs. Lyndes in our life, but we don't blame them for being cautious.  We know they're only looking out for us and are trying to protect us from being hurt or harmed -- be it emotionally or physically.  And to be fair to them, there are a lot of horror stories out there.  It's important, however, to remember the context of these "horror stories."

Every child in the foster care system has gone, or is going through, trauma.  They've been taken from their homes.  Some of them have been abused and neglected their entire life up to this point.  Some haven't been neglected or abused; their parents may have done a good job of shielding them from their destructive behavior.  Regardless of the child's previous situation, they find themselves suddenly living with strangers.  How would you react if you were taken from the only home you've ever known and you were forced to live with people who may have absolutely nothing in common with you?

They may not be carrying any physical scars, but each and every one of them is carrying some emotional ones.  They're a little bit broken and it's our job to help them put those pieces back together.

We're supposed to meet them today.  They're supposed to come home with us today and sleep in the beds we've prepared for them.  Thank-you, everyone, for your words of comfort, encouragement, and caution.  We've appreciated it so much.

We can't wait for this next chapter to begin.

-S

Wait For It . . .

Waiting. It may be the word we use the most on this blog. "Why" is the word we use most at home, but mostly that is because Scott’s little dog insists on pottying in the living room, and we don’t know why. But that is an issue for another day.

Our home study was approved last Tuesday. A week ago. We were pretty excited. I was instantly nervous (I realized we didn't have a waterproof cover for the mattress or plastic cups or plastic plates or plastic eating utensils or enough Legos).  It struck us that placement is close. Impending even.  We are in a kind of scary limbo. We have put our employers on notice that we may need some time off sometime in the next week, month or year. It is hard to plan when you don't know what to expect.

We actually got our first call on Friday, July 6. It was for a 3 year old little girl. She had more medical issues that we could probably handle and she only needed a temporary placement.  So the coordinator basically made the decision that she was not a match for us. This was a new coordinator that we had not spoken with before. She was very nice and took the time to listen to me about what type of child we are looking for.  I am excited by the conversation and feel good that we have experienced our first call. Now we wait for the next call. Maybe it will be about our children.

So again we wait. This waiting feels more exciting than all the other waiting we have done before.  But it is also more agonizing.  It feels like every time the phone rings my heart skips a beat.  Each day we wonder, "Will we meet our child today?" "By bedtime tonight will we be three instead of two?" I think after we take a placement we will look back on this waiting time that feels so long right now and say "That was just a short time. Why were we so anxious?"  At this point we have waited three and half years; what is another week or month?

We are praying for our child and the other children too. We are praying that we say yes to the child who is ours. We trust that God will work it all out. Any impatience we feel is really excitement about the upcoming arrival of our child.

-K

Possible Nibble

Got a call from the attorney's office today. There is a mother who is due in April who is looking to put her child up for adoption. We don't know a lot about her. We know she's going to be having a girl and that she's coming from a biracial relationship. The biological mother hails (originally) from Kentucky but now lives here in Tennessee. The mother is interested in being able to visit her child once a year. The attorney's office called to ask if we were comfortable with that.

I never realized how strong the word "comfortable" is. Because to describe the idea of getting together, once a year, with a woman we don't know but gave birth to the child we now call "daughter" is just about the furthest thing from comfortable that I can think of. As soon as the question was asked, fears of the mother falling back in love with her child sprang to mind.

"There's no guarantee that the mother will follow up on this request," our attorney said, as if reading my mind.

"Comfortable is such a strong word," I said and she laughed.

But this process has never been about comfort. It's uncomfortable to admit to your spouse that you don't know why you're not getting pregnant. The word infertility is an awful, awful word to ever say out loud (maybe only trumped by hearing it). It's not comfortable telling your friends and family that you're considering adoption. It's not comfortable browsing for books on adoption. The only part of this process that is comforting is knowing that we are opening our hearts and our home to a child that needs us. And that thought leads to the comfort of knowing that God is with us on this and He has a long history of adoption and will help us through this -- including leading the right child into our home.

"Do it," I said. "Send her our letter."

She might not like us. She might take one look at our book and say, "they're not raising my child!" She might choose someone else -- someone who reminds her of her family or someone with slightly similar ideals and aspirations or someone richer. Or she might meet us and go, "those two people are the most opinionated people I have ever met. No. Way."

But that's her choice to make. I'm not going to take that choice away from her because of one uncomfortable detail. Many of these uncomfortable things have already gone away and many more of them will go away once we're on the other side of this. Either way, I haven't seen my comfort zone in about two years and I'm not making any plans to ever return there.

So that's where we're at right now. It's not quite a nibble, but it's a potential nibble. We'll see if she bites and then we'll go from there.

Don't pray that she chooses us. Pray that she makes the right decision and that her child winds up in the right home. Pray that the right child finds our home. I would love it if this was the one, because that would make this process so much quicker and easier than any of the books led us to believe it would be. But I'm more concerned for the child. I want her to find the right fit more than I want her placed in my home. But, if you're not, please pray for us. We'd really appreciate it. And if you already are, thank-you.