Feliz Navidad

Today, after church, my kids were eager to share the new song they'd learned.

Ariana:

"Hey, Mommy! Do you like the Police Duckie Duck song?"

Jesus Says So

Samuel's new favorite phrase is: "Jesus wants us to share." This was not something that Daddy or I taught him, although I wouldn't be surprised if an older sibling imparted such wisdom when Samuel had something they wanted...

Anyway, this phrase is awfully hard to resist when spoken in Samuel voice. It is hard not to hand over the keys to the family truck when faced with such obscene cuteness.

A few days ago, Samuel added another phrase to his repertoire.

Daddy was eating his breakfast when Samuel sidled up next to him. Leftover on the table from the night before was a half-eaten bag of popcorn. Samuel looked at the bag of popcorn, then he looked up at Daddy.

"Hmmm...that looks like popcorn," Samuel remarked, lifting one eyebrow in the dramatic way that I envy (I am unable to lift my eyebrows independently of each other).

"Mmmhmmm," was Daddy's reply.

Samuel looked at the bag, then back up at Daddy. "Can I have some?"

"Mmmhmmm."

Samuel happily began munching away. Honor came upstairs and sat down beside Samuel. Honor looked at the popcorn, then she looked at Samuel.

"Can I have some?" she asked her younger brother.

"Sure!" He reached in the bag and enthusiastically handed her one kernel, then he ate one.

"Can I have some more?" she asked again, holding out her hand.

"Sure!" He reached in, grabbed one kernel, handed it to her and then ate another one.

Honor was getting a bit impatient by that point. Rather than asking a third time, Honor simply reached in the bag.

"Hey!" came Samuel's outraged little voice. "Jesus says no more!"


I think I like sharing better....

She Just Wants to Be Included

It is Sunday afternoon, which equates to family naptime. The children have been tucked into their beds. Honor is lying between Mommy and Daddy in hopes that she might actually fall asleep. Mommy and Daddy begin discussing Samuel's potty training issue of the day:

Daddy: "Do you think he will poop his pants during naptime today?"

Mommy: "I don't think so. I put him in one of those cheap diapers just to be on the safe side. I think we are just going to have to cut out naps altogether until he starts pooping regularly during the day."

Daddy: "Yeah, but I really don't want to. He needs them."

Mommy: "I don't think it will be too long. He just needs to get into the habit of going after lunch."

Daddy: "Did we not praise him enough when he went those few times? Why hasn't he gone on the toilet since then?"

Mommy: "Yeah, we praised him enough...he's just got in the habit of going at naptime and we just need to break him of it."

...

Honor, throwing her blankie dramatically over her head: "UGH!!! Can we please talk about something else!?!"



She is such a teenager...

Our Adoption Story: Part 10...Adopting Connor and Ariana

(If you missed the beginning of our story, you may go back to it HERE)

Two and a half years after we began our journey through foster care, we started the adoption process--we were the only ones being considered. Once again, we had Aunt and Uncle to thank. Aunt called the GAL and Case Worker and told them that no one else should adopt the kids. From what they had witnessed, the kids were bonded to us. We were their parents in their eyes and it would be cruel to remove them from our care. Since Aunt and Uncle were number one on the adoption list, their opinion carried great weight. No one contested it.

We were told that we could change the children's names at that time if we would like. We felt it would be strange to suddenly call them by completely new first names, so we just changed the spelling. Conner became "Connor" and Airianna became "Ariana". Thankfully I already liked their meanings! (Connor means "wise counselor" and Ariana means "holy one"--or as I say, "set apart for God".) Shortly after we were told we could change their names, Ariana turned 3 and I wrote the following at the end of a birthday blog post:

When we finally adopt her, her middle name will officially change to Jane. She is very proud of her middle name which the case worker told me we could go ahead and start getting her used to. Because I never liked her middle name before, I never called her by it. I called Connor, Connor Owen; Honor, Honor Elizabeth; and Samuel, Samuel Ai...but she was always just Ariana. Within a few days of calling her Ariana Jane, she became very possessive of it. If I called her just Ariana, she would stand up straight and demand, "No. Not Iana! Iana JANE!" I love hearing her say "Iana Jane."

Jane means "God is Gracious". God has been so Gracious throughout this whole process. He graciously brought her out of a horrible situation where she had little hope of survival and even less hope of a meaningful future. He graciously helped her to thrive in our care. He graciously blessed our family with a daughter that loves to play with her siblings and is growing more and more fun every day. And He graciously blessed my life with a beautiful child who brightens my every day; from the "MOMMY!!" first thing in the morning, to the "I love you Mommy! Goodnight!" last thing every night and every second in between.

God is so Gracious!

The adoption process seemed to take forever! We had to get a new licensing worker for the adoption portion, and then once again it was necessary to fill out gobs of paperwork, redo homestudies, physicals, etc. Then we had to actually wait for an adoption hearing date.

Finally--nine months after Birth Mom's severance occurred--on tax day (and Steph's anniversary!) 2009, we officially adopted Connor Owen and Ariana Jane into our family. You can read about one of the best days of my life HERE.

From the start of our foster care experience to the day we adopted was three years and 1 month. Connor went from being an 18 month old boy who could barely walk and talk, to a handsome four year old who could read and run with the best of them. Ariana went from a baby who was practically starving to death, to a beautiful three year old who sang, danced, played and LOVED with the best of them.

God chose to reveal a lot to me in the last four...almost five years. (Boy time flies!) God is in control. He knows ALL, He sees ALL, He loves ALL, and He has a plan for each and every one of us. God loves my children more than I could ever dream of loving them. He created them. He knew them in their mother's womb. He knew then the plans He had for them.

And I can't wait to see what they are.

Our Adoption Story: Part 9... Severance...Sometime...

Two years after Conner and Airianna were placed in our home, it finally happened...the case plan was changed from reunification to severance of parental rights/adoption. Neither Birth Mom nor her boyfriend had done a single drug test, and she was no closer to providing evidence that she had completed any of the other requirements. This did not mean that severance had happened, just that the case plan had been changed. It was now up to CPS to prove that severance should happen.

For the next six months, visits would continue as normal. During this time, Birth Mom had the opportunity to make a deal with the state. If she would voluntarily terminate her rights, she would have a say in who adopted the kids and she could make bargains (i.e. she could ask to visit the kids during holidays, write letters, etc.). Birth Mom opted not to terminate her rights. This is a good thing, since I am pretty certain she would not have chosen us. I found out later that Birth Mom had called all of her family and attempted to feed them false information to try to vilify me. Some of the weirder things she told them were that I was a "dirty Mexican," and that I was a "hippie." Neither of which is even remotely true, but she thought if she could make her family think the kids were in a "bad environment," they would adopt them out from under me. Then she would have them sign them back over to her after it was all over (which is obviously illegal).

Thankfully Aunt was on our side. Aunt and Uncle had already formally declined with the specification that the kids should be adopted by us and if for some reason that is not possible, then they would adopt them. Then they contacted all of the other family members and set the record straight against the lies being told by Birth Mom. Aunt told them that they had met us in person and the kids were doing great. She also told them that Conner and Airianna were obviously bonded to us and that we should adopt them.

Have I mentioned that I LOVE Aunt and family???

Six months later, I was prepared to go to court. The GAL had asked me to speak on behalf of the children at the severance hearing. I wasn't to speak negatively about Birth Mom, I was only going to be there to talk about how well the kids were doing in my care. I was excited. It was the first time I would be allowed to be at one of the hearings.

The hearings were scheduled to last four days. I was supposed to go on the second day, but I didn't have to go. The court ordered severance on the first day of the hearing...Birth Mom did not show up at the trial--her lawyer did, but the lawyer could not get a hold of her all day to get her there. That typically would be immediate severance, but the judge wanted to give every opportunity to make sure all the loopholes were covered, so he listened to the three witnesses that were called for that first day (the Case Worker, the CPS worker who originally removed the kids, and the psychiatrist). It took the full day, but in the end, the judge ruled that because she did not show up, because of the original neglect with no real improvement in parenting skills, because she was not in compliance with any of the tasks she was assigned, because of the many lies the court had caught her in, and because of her borderline personality disorder, she was unfit to raise the children and her parental rights had been severed. Later I would find out just how far away from completing her assignments she had been--for example, she only had to work 20 hours a week. When the time sheets were subpoenaed from her supervisor, it showed that she was only working 13 hours...a MONTH. (Yet, she couldn't make up a visit any other day... yes, that still irks me, but then I remember how God used that... Once again God shows that He knows all and I do not.)

After the trial, she had 15 days to appeal, but unless she could prove that something really tragic had happened (like she was hit by a bus), they would not grant it. She did appeal, and it was declined. Then we still had to wait until Airianna's dad's parental ties were officially severed before starting the adoption process. He had proven abandonment already, but it went to court anyway three months later. Thankfully he did not contest severance. Once that was over, the court ordered severance for all John Doe's out there...just in case someone came out of the woodwork to claim paternity rights.

Once severance had occurred, Birth Mom was granted two more "goodbye" visits. These were supervised and took place at the CPS office. The last one was accompanied by a sheriff...just in case. It was very emotional and I allowed Birth Mom to have as much time as she needed with the kids. She cried quite a bit, but she didn't drag it out very long. I do not doubt that she loved Conner and Airianna--it is virtually impossible not to--but unfortunately she loved herself a little more at that point. Someday I pray she gets her life in order, but I hear from Aunt and Great Grandma that "someday" has not arrived yet. I will be praying for her. She is often in my thoughts.


Part 10

Our Adoption Story: Part 8...Blessings in Disguise

A little over a year and a half into our foster care experience, it appeared as if nothing was ever going to change. Despite the recommendation from CPS, the Foster Care Review Board, the Guardian ad Lidem, and the Birth Mom's refusal to cooperate with the judge's orders, he continually gave her more chances. It was frustrating to say the least. Aunt became increasingly more vocal on our behalf, volunteering information that she learned from other family members and Birth Mom's social network pages to help with the case for severance.

Then a visit was missed. One of the children got sick and the visit needed to be rescheduled. Except Birth Mom claimed that she couldn't make up a visit any day except our normal visit day. Ignoring all of the recommendations, the judge agreed that Birth Mom could have an 8 hour make-up visit--with only one hour supervised. To say I was scared would be an understatement. But my God is greater than my fears.

I got the kids ready to go for the visit, then took several pictures of them in their current outfits--just in case. We drove out to the visit and I dropped them off. Daddy would pick them up around dinner time at the CPS office. I brought Honor and Samuel back home with me and tried not to worry. At 6 pm, Daddy picked Conner and Airianna up. Although covered in food stains, both kids were fine. Conner came home with a pirate tattoo and a smile. When they got home an hour later, I fed them quickly and put them to bed. It seemed that the outing was a success. I breathed a sigh of relief. It came too soon.

The next morning Honor made the mistake of taking Conner's chair while I was in the kitchen making breakfast. I heard her screaming and ran to check out what had happened. My barely three year old son was sitting on top of my barely three year old daughter wailing on her with his fists with all the strength he possessed. I literally had to pull him off her. I was shocked. Conner was (is) a fairly mild-mannered boy. Yes, he would do typical kid fights--shoving when someone takes a toy, etc.--but I had never seen him act out this maliciously with so much rage. Even when we first got him and he bit, it was more to get a reaction than anything. This was completely unlike anything I'd ever witnessed from him (or any other three year old).

I called the Case Worker and told him what Conner had done. For me it was fairly obvious that something had happened at the visit. The Case Worker agreed and based off my phone call immediately revoked the unsupervised visits. Birth Mom would still have four hour visits, but they would be supervised from then on. Birth Mom was not pleased.

The following week I drove the kids out for their visit. When I arrived, I was told to drive around for a little while and the Case Worker would call me when they were ready. I saw Birth Mom and her parents arguing with the Case Worker outside the front doors and knew something was not quite right. Twenty minutes later, the visit had been canceled. If the visit had to be supervised, Birth Mom would not do it.

She skipped the following week as well.

The third week she finally agreed to the supervised visit, but she required that all four hours happen at McDonald's.

After the second supervised visit, the Parent Aid came out and had a talk with me.

"Um, I know that you don't watch movies with cursing in it, but have you been around anyone lately that has been cursing a lot?" The Parent Aid was a Christian and we had often talked about our faith while waiting for Birth Mom to show up. She knew enough about me to know that I wouldn't allow filthy language around the kids, but she had to ask.

I even laughed a little. "No. No one uses that kind of language around us."

"Maybe at the mall play area or the park or something?"

Now I was getting a little worried. "No. I'm around the kids at the park and the mall. If someone was cursing around them, I would have heard it. Why? What happened?"

"Well, while Airianna and Conner were playing in the play area, a little girl came by and pushed Airianna. Conner walked up to her, shoved her, and called her an 'F'in B' and then proceeded to use the F-word four more times in the correct context. [Birth Mom] claims that she has no idea where he heard it. I witnessed her telling her friend not to curse around the kids today, but I don't know what happened before I was here. She thought that he must have seen it at a mall play area (even she would not accuse you directly of cursing around him)."

My heart broke. To some this may not seem like a big deal, but for me this was akin to verbal abuse. That my son had heard the word was upsetting to me. I wanted him to remain innocent as long as possible. That he had heard the word used enough that he was able to use it in the correct context made me want to cry.

I told the Parent Aid that I had no idea where he'd heard that language, but I would let her know if he used it at home. He never did. Not once. To this day.

The following week I had his three year well-doctor appointment. I asked the doctor about it and he confirmed my suspicions. The doctor believed that Conner must have heard it used frequently during visits and thought it was appropriate to use it there, which is why he never used it at home. And it would also explain why, after that visit (when the Parent Aid told him not to say that word again), he never used it again there either.

I will never know what happened the day of the eight hour visit, but I would not be surprised to find out that Birth Mom got in a fist fight in front of the kids. I have seen pictures that she posted of her fighting for the fun of it. She confided in me that she cursed out a woman at McDonald's because her kid pushed Airianna out of the way before going down the slide. It is not very hard for me to imagine a scenario where fighting in front of the kids was "necessary" in her mind. But I am thankful for it. Finally she was forced into a situation where her actions would be recorded and she could no longer hide behind her manipulations.

Once the visits became supervised, the kids' disposition upon coming home changed. It was like night and day. No longer did they throw temper tantrums for an entire day after coming back from a visit. No longer did they come home dirty. In fact, visits *almost* became something to look forward to. The kids had fun and they were relatively safe. I trusted the Parent Aid.

The only real "negative" to having supervised visits was that the Parent Aid actually did her job. She encouraged Birth Mom to learn parenting skills--which was a wonderful thing. And she encouraged Conner to call Birth Mom "Mommy." I was conflicted about this. Up until that point, he hadn't called her anything. On one hand, she was his mother. On the other hand, I didn't want to confuse him. Surprisingly enough, he never seemed confused.

When Conner talked about the visits, he talked about Parent Aid. He would say he was going to "Parent Aid's" visit, (we just said he was going to "visit"). He would also say he was going to "Parent Aid's house" (which I thought was cute). He would talk about the activities that he did with Parent Aid. Even Airianna started doing that. Conner mentioned his grandpa and grandma often. But until the very end, I never heard him say anything about his mom (without her being right there). In fact, I can only remember him mentioning her a couple of times and only in the last few months before severance. When he did mention her, he would say, "the other Mommy gave me..." not, "my Mommy." It was as if Mommy was her name, not who she was.

At the two year mark, the judge finally ordered Birth Mom to take drug tests. The kids were not removed for drugs so it was not part of her program. The judge ordered tests for both her and her boyfriend because of some suspicious activity that uncovered--mostly because of her love of raves. He also requested another hearing in three months--two years is considered a very long time to wait for permanency for children that young. He wanted to see progress in three months or he would move for severance.

Birth Mom did not listen to his warnings.


Part 9

Toy Cars Are Dangerous

About a year ago, Honor was standing on one of her toy cars (despite being told over and over again NOT to stand on the cars), fell and bruised her tooth. Yes, you can bruise a tooth. It turned almost black, but came back just as white as the others.

I should have put those cars outside.

Today, Samuel was standing on one of the toy cars (despite being told over and over again NOT to stand on the cars). He fell. He did not bruise his tooth, but he did cut/bruise his cheek...right before family pictures tonight. Isn't that always the way it works?

I should have packed the cars away.

I had him put an ice pack on it and went to take a shower. Five minutes into my shower, Samuel was crying...again.

"Samuel! What happened!"

"I fell off my car!" This time the owie was on the back of his head...

"After you just fell and I told you NOT to stand on it???"

"I didn't stand on it!"

"Well, then how did you hurt yourself?"

"Because I didn't have wings to fly!"

...

"Mommy! It's not funny! Stop laughing!!!"

My Friend Doug

Please pray for my friend Doug. He just lost his mom. Doug is in prison. Because of this, he cannot attend her funeral service or be there for his family. Obviously this is a hard time for him. Here is his blog post about it: Mommsy.

I would greatly appreciate it if you would take the time to post a comment on his blog (anonymous comments are fine). He could use the encouragement right now...

That's Too Long

Samuel is very huggable. I've mentioned his cheeks before--super kissable. Well, he just grips you in hugs and I just don't want to ever let him go.

While receiving a giant bear hug from him, I tried to explain to him how much I loved it.

"Samuel, I want to hug you forever!"

Samuel looked up at me with his big brown eyes and said, "how about three evers?"

Yes, perhaps four-ever might be a little too long...

He's Such a Crack Up

Today in phonics we were discussing consonant digraphs. The particular consonant digraphs we were using were "gh" and "ck". Honor and Connor were asked to write out three sentences using several of the following words: brought, thought, crack, check, track, thick, bought, trick.


Here were Connor's sentences:

The robot had a crack in his head.

Love Man loved Crack Man.

I love you Mom said Crack Man.


------------

I held back my chuckles and told him to redo the sentences using more than "crack." He returned with this sentence:

Trick Man tricked Check Boy.

...

Sigh.

The Joy of Giving...or Not...

Today Honor and Connor got to buy their first...anything.

Honor and Connor had been talking about buying Christmas presents with their money, so today was THE day. I had Honor and Connor empty out their piggy banks and count out the change. They earn money by picking up rocks from the horse stalls...a penny a rock. They don't do it often since they have to have all of their "normal" chores done first (pick up toys, clean rooms, make beds)....and then they didn't really understand how neat it was to have money. They know now! Honor ended up with $10.53 ($2 from the tooth fairy...and she's an expert at finding "loose change"), Connor had $2.82. I exchanged the change for bills and off we went.

To give them the best "bang for their buck," we went over to the dollar store. Before going in, I told them that I would help them make the most use of their money so that they could get the most presents for the most amount of people. I reminded them that they could get whatever they wanted (for the most part--I still had veto power if it was inappropriate) since it was their money. Both were excited to buy Christmas presents. That changed when we got inside.

Once Connor saw the toy aisle, he no longer wanted the presents for other people. "Okay, Son, but you are going to miss out on the blessing of being able to wrap the presents and give them to someone else. You won't be able to see the joy on someone's face as you give them something you picked out just for them."

He thought about that for a moment as he looked at the glow-in-the-dark sword and robot in his hands. "Okay, Mom. I'll give this sword to Luke for Christmas. But I'm going to play with it until Christmas."

"Oh no, Son...if you want to give him that sword, you can't play with it first. We'll wrap it when we get home and you can give it to him another day."

"Oh...then I think I will just keep it."

Sigh.

Honor was the opposite. She wanted to get everything in the store...but she wanted it for other people. "Ashlynn will like this"..."Ariana will like this!"..."Hannah can have this!"..."Maya can have this!"

Eventually I had her narrow it down some. She put a lot of thought into it--getting just the "perfect" present for Daddy, Ariana, Samuel and her friends, Maya and Ashlynn. After that, she got a couple bags of candy, some candy canes, and some foam butterflies to decorate so she could give one to each of the kids in her Sunday School class. She had $1 left. Then she saw "the horse." A little porcelain horse that opened so she could hide something inside. She loved it. I could see it in her eyes that she treasured that thing. She wanted to think of the perfect person to give it to, but was having a hard time deciding on someone who "won't break it." I remembered what her Daddy had said to me before we left: "make sure they get something for themselves too...they worked hard for that money." I had told him that they could spend their money how they chose, but I decided to remind Honor that it was her money and she could use it however she wanted.

She held the horse close to her heart and looked up at me with big doe eyes. "Do you think it would be okay if I kept this one thing?"

"Yes, Sweetie."

So she did.

The kids happily paid the check out lady everything they had, and eagerly went back to the car. Honor talked the whole way home about how she couldn't wait to share her candy canes with her siblings. Connor talked about how his sword would glow in the dark.

There's a lesson in there somewhere...

Our Adoption Story: Part 7...You're Not Delayed

Shortly after Conner turned 3, we received a notice from our case worker that they may need to remove the children from our care (again). See, we were a licensed Developmentally Delayed home...and now that Conner was officially 3, it was no longer possible for him to be diagnosed as such. The state was trying to cut back on expenses, so the children would need to be moved.

"Can't we just change to regular foster care?" I asked my licensing worker.

"Unfortunately it doesn't just work that way. There is all sorts of red tape you have to go through. You would have to change licensing agencies. By the time the paperwork goes through, it will be too late."

"What can we do?"

"I'll talk to [the head of the licensing agency] and let you know what she says. Just hang in there!"

Later that day I received this e-mail:

We were wondering if you would be willing to write up a brief statement of some kind regarding your opinion on CPS possibly wanting to move the kids. [The head of the licensing agency] is compiling letters from anyone who is willing to write them, and is hoping to meet w/ the governor's office sometime this week to discuss this issue....[We] have all vowed to make sure this does not happen to you guys, or any of our other families for that matter (you guys definitely arent the only ones!!) So please dont worry about it.... I know hard to say but I know you have a super strong faith!! By the way you did great today at FCRB. :)

-------------------------

So I wrote this letter:

To whom it may concern-

I was recently informed that the foster children in my home were possibly going to be removed from my care because they do not have developmental delays. My foster children are currently 3 years, and 21 months. I have had both of these children for almost a year and a half (since the youngest was 4 months old). At the time they were given to me, it was unknown how the neglect that they had suffered had affected them. After they were tested, the eldest was deemed socially delayed and also slightly behind in some of the other tests as well. The youngest was physically delayed due to the neglect she had suffered. After working with both children diligently, the oldest one was considered on track before he was 2 years old, and the youngest is finally physically on track as well. I feel as if we are being punished for doing our job as a DD home. We are the only family the youngest has ever known--to remove her from our care to another foster family so close to some permanency being introduced into her life would be very damaging to a child who has already undergone so much. It saddens me that the best interest of the children is not being looked after, but rather the best interest of the money. Thank you for taking the time to listen to my case. Please feel free to contact me further with any questions.

--------------------------

As was typically the case...nothing came of this either.

Shortly after this, the case really took a turn towards severance...Birth Mom had an 8 hour unsupervised visit. It did not go well....


Part 8

Our Adoption Story: Part 6...Family

Up until this point, I've made it seem as if our Foster Care experience was all doom and gloom. Yes, it was a roller coaster ride of highs and lows, but mostly we just did our thing and waited. For two and a half years...we waited. The case worker later said it was one of his top 5 most frustrating cases--it should never have drawn on that long.

But, like I said, in the roller coaster ride there were "highs." Foster Care Review Board was a "high" for me. Every six months we were asked to submit an update on the kids' well-being either in person or via a letter. They wanted to know if the kids were happy, the activities they were involved in and their overall routine as well as how they acted at visits, etc. Birth Mom was also encouraged to attend these meetings, but she never did. The Board members were volunteers whose sole job was to make sure the kids were being treated well by everyone involved in the case. I often learned the most about the case from their "findings"--which were always sent to the judge. They were told things from the case worker that I wasn't always privy to. The FCRB advocated for us from the beginning-- even before we knew we should be advocated for. Every six months they recommended severance and adoption.

One of the many blessings throughout this process was the chance to meet and become friends with Conner and Airianna's biological aunt and uncle (well, Birth Mom's aunt and uncle). Originally they were the ones that would end up adopting the kids--if they had lived in the area, the kids would have went to them directly instead of to foster care. The Aunt and Uncle are actually a very good family--Uncle is even a doctor. They have two girls of roughly the same age as our kids. If we hadn't been able to adopt them, at least I know that in that home they would have been loved and cared for.

I spoke to Aunt the first time right after the 6 month hearing. Our case worker had told her that we would be interested in adopting and she wanted to speak with us. Aunt had known some really bad foster mothers and she was wanting to find out it the kids were in a loving home. We spoke for nearly 2 hours and at the end I had agreed to keep in touch via e-mail. By the second Christmas (a year and a half in), we had spoken often enough that it was time to meet.

We had planned a family vacation up to Iowa. Because of the long drive, we had scheduled it for two weeks during Daddy's slow season. Any time you take a trip out of state, you must clear it with the case worker--especially when you will be missing visits. At first we thought the case worker was going to deny the trip, but because Aunt and Uncle were going to be in South Dakota--a half day's drive from where we were going to be staying--we included them in our plans. Since at that time it looked like they would adopt the kids, the case worker agreed to the trip to give the kids an opportunity to know their potential family.

Aunt and Uncle and Cousins were pretty much what we expected and we enjoyed getting to know them better. We had planned a couple of outings together, unfortunately Cousin 1 got sick and had to go to the ER so that part of the trip got cut short. However, they were with us enough to know that Conner and Airianna were without a doubt bonded to our family.

Shortly after returning home, Aunt wrote a letter to the judge stating that Birth Mom's parental rights should be severed and that we should be allowed to adopt the kids as soon as possible. The case worker told us this was unheard of. He had never before had a suitable family member advocate for the foster parents to adopt. It carried a lot of weight in our case. It was also detrimental to their family relationships.

We are very thankful to Aunt and Uncle for their sacrifice. For their "traitorous" act, Uncle had to sever ties to his brother (the kids' grandpa). Aunt and Uncle did not think that Grandpa led a healthy lifestyle, however, Grandpa was the only one of his siblings that helped out when Cousin 1 was in and out of the hospital as an infant (she was a preemie). He did not make good life choices for himself or his family, however, Grandpa was loyal and Uncle felt horrible for hurting him. He still thinks he made the right decision, but it cost him a great deal.

We keep in close contact with Aunt and Uncle and Uncle's mom--great grandma. We do not distinguish between any of our aunts and uncles or grandmas...they are aunt/uncle/grandma to all of the kids and we are very thankful for the extended family.

Part 7

Encouragement

While the big kids were downstairs picking up their toys, Mommy thought she'd pull out an incentive: Wii Fit Plus. If they got their room done in time, they would get to play too (they didn't). Samuel got to play with me, but it was more fun to listen to him while I played:

"Good job, Mommy!"

"You can do it!"

and my favorite:

"That's my girl!"

Our Adoption Story: Quick Clarification

I just wanted to take a brief time-out to clarify two very important points.

In no way am I against the birth family. Even now I would permit the maternal grandparents visits with the children (with me present) if they so wished. They were not a suitable home, but we had no intention of cutting them out of the children's lives forever. We are in close contact with other family members...including the maternal great-grandparents. I would even send Birth Mom pictures and updates if she were willing. However, at this time, both Birth Mom and her parents have declined any interaction with us at all--e-mail or otherwise.

A second point to clarify...during all of this, the children had no idea what was going on "behind the scenes." We did not talk about their birth family at all--they never brought them up and neither did we. When I spoke with the case worker or anyone else about the case, I left the room. It was very important to me that the children not hear bad things about Birth Mom. One day they may read this, and I want them to know that in her way she did love them. She just didn't know how to do it responsibly--and at that time wasn't willing to learn.

I am thankful that I had the opportunity to teach Connor and Ariana what it means to truly be loved. To know that they are a valued member of our family and, more importantly, of God's family. That their worth comes from God and not from pleasing men. God has a magnificent plan for both of their lives and I cannot wait to see what it is.



Now...back to our story...


Part 6

Our Adoption Story: Part 5...When God Speaks, You Listen

After the 1 year hearing (where the case worker originally thought severance would happen), I wrote the following e-mail: (slightly edited for length...really...it was a lot longer, but you already have that background information...)

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Last week they had a permanency hearing for Conner and Airianna. I was told afterward that nothing much happened, that the hearing had been deferred because the judge that normally oversees this case was not there. I was told that the "substitute" judge didn't want to make any rulings because he was unfamiliar with the case. The only ruling he made was that the maternal grandparents do a home study. That phone conversation with my case worker was only 2 minutes...I should have known that was a bad sign.

I figured that the maternal grandparents would be ruled out through the home study and once and for all be ruled out as a placement--after all, how could they pass it if that was the home the kids were taken out of in the first place???

Well, I got a call from the case worker this morning and apparently he's "cooled down" enough to tell me what really happened. He was very angry. Apparently the Guardian Ad Lidum had a change of heart and decided that the kids could go with the maternal grandparents which is why the home study was ordered. (Up until this point, they had been ruled out by everyone as a placement due to past history and unsuitable living conditions). According to him, the home study is very easy to pass and since it is done by a completely independent consultant, they will not know the case to know the danger of passing them. Basically they will look at the structure of the home and tell them to fix whatever needs fixed and once that is done they pass. Apparently the interview is easier than what we had to do also since they are family and they are going into "regular" foster care instead of developmentally disabled. The case worker told me this morning that he thinks they will pass. If that happens, the kids will immediately be removed from our care and put into theirs.

There are a lot of questions on our end as to how this could happen: the kids were taken from those living conditions in the first place, the mom lives with them (although they could say she's moved out) the grandmother is clearly not mentally stable (but that is not part of the "impartial" home study interview), they are alcoholics, they have been ruled out for adoption but they are okay for foster care???? However if they pass, the kids leave. You can guess how I feel about this. No mother wants to hear that her children will be taken and put into harm's way and there is nothing she can do about it--except pray--which is what I need from you. PLEASE PRAY THAT THIS WILL NOT HAPPEN.

I was also told that at the first sign of any troubles (behavioral or health wise), the kids will immediately be removed and placed back into foster care, but that doesn't guarantee they would come back to us. The case worker will put a note in their file stating that it would be in their best interest to return here in that eventuality, but there are no guarantees. Part of the problem is that we are a Developmental home and they are clearly not developmentally disabled--the government has to pay us at the DD rate instead of the regular rate because that is what we are licensed for (I would gladly take a "pay cut" if it meant keeping our kids, but that isn't an option). Please pray that they will be returned to us if they are removed.

Please pray for us, but especially me, during this time. I break down in tears every time I think of them leaving. Even if they return to us, a month in that environment would completely mess them up (especially my sweet Airianna who is at the age where love and consistent discipline make all the difference). I remember when Conner first came to us--he was biting, hitting, throwing full out temper tantrums on the floor, and acted like no one had ever told him "no" before in his life. He has completely changed in the last year, but even 4 hours with the mom and grandma brings him home in a negative attitude. I don't want to see Airianna and Conner change their sweet personalities. And I can't bear the thought of losing them to a home that I know is unsafe and not knowing what will happen to them. Once they are out of my care, I am cut out of the loop. So please pray that I will be able to focus on the here and now. After all... the case worker was preparing me for the kids to spend Christmas with the family with reunification shortly thereafter as if it were a certainty and that didn't come to play. I know that nothing may come from this so please pray that I keep up hope and faith that God will take care of them (even if they do get removed...but I don't want to think about that).

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I was distraught (to say the least). I tried my best to hold myself together in front of the kids, but it was hard. Then the Lord literally brought me to my knees. Although I had been begging Him to keep the children safe, I had not "listened" to His answer. You know...you can't really get comforted by Him if you are not quiet enough to hear what He has to say.

And God had a lot to say to me at this time.

But as I said, He literally brought me to my knees first. I had awoken with a heavy heart. Trying to shake it off, I took a shower, during which the tears flowed freely. When I was through, I was sobbing so hard that it was difficult to stand. I fell on the floor...right next to my Bible. God is funny that way.

Picking up my Bible, I begged God to give me comfort and strength. I was allowing my mind to think of the reasons why Birth Mom ended up the way she did (we were able to learn a lot about her background from both her and other family members...scary stuff), and thinking about how the maternal grandmother would lead Airianna down those same roads (prostitution and early abortions being the least of the things she was involved with by the age of 14). I was being suffocated by my own fears. I needed God to clear my head--to make me useful to my children.

He "spoke" to me very clearly.

Here is the follow up e-mail I wrote later that day:

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As kind of an amendment to the long e-mail I sent out to you yesterday, I wanted to let you all know the lesson God taught me this morning. I have decided not to worry about the home study right now--BUT PLEASE KEEP PRAYING. Yesterday was VERY hard on me and when I thought no one was looking I would break down and cry about what would happen to the kids if they had to go back there. Even now it breaks my heart to think how they would "ruin" my sweet Airianna's disposition in just a month. I was thinking how Conner was when I first got him and imagining Airianna changing into those behaviors. It breaks my heart. He was 3 months older than Airianna is now. But I looked to God for comfort this morning and He pointed out that nothing has changed between Wednesday and yesterday except one man's opinion.

Before yesterday I had hope that this home study would rule out the grandparents once and for all and I knew that God would keep the kids safe. Then the case worker told me that he thought the grandparents would pass the home study and all of a sudden I believed that the kids would go to harm. God pointed out to me this morning that He didn't change, I did. And so I am not going to worry about it. God is perfect. He made these kids and He loves them more than I could ever love them. He also understands my pain, but to a much greater degree--He sent His Son, not only to a miserable home (earth), but where He knew for 100% certainty He would not only be harmed, but killed. God has ALWAYS had everything in His hands and now is when I really need to trust in Him and not despair because He knows all and I do not.

These two verses were the ones that really stood out for me:

Psalm 43:5
"Why are you cast down, O my soul? And why are you disquieted within me? Hope in God; For I shall yet praise Him, The help of my countenance and my God."

and

Matthew 6:34
"Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about its own things. Sufficient for the day is its own trouble."

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See what I mean? When God wants to speak clearly, He speaks CLEARLY. It was a lesson that I kept with me throughout the roller coaster ride that was the next two years.


Clarification

Our Adoption Story: Part 4...Six Months

By the end of the first six months, we had begun to form a sort of routine. Because of the distance I was having to drive, they consolidated the visits into one visit a week for two hours--only one hour supervised. Because she had missed so many visits, Birth Mom was required to call the parent aid an hour and a half before the visit to verify that she would be there, otherwise the visit would be canceled. She was averaging about 60% of the visits.

Visits always made me nervous for many reasons. I always felt like I was being judged by Birth Mom. I refused to give her any excuse to complain about her children's treatment. The kids were always freshly bathed and I generally put them in a new outfit--at least a new shirt for each visit. I cringed any time Conner tripped and scraped a knee or got a bruise anywhere. I felt like I should put him in bubble wrap for the days leading up to a visit just to be on the safe side.

Talking to Birth Mom made me nervous also. By this time I had realized that most of what she said was a lie, with enough truth to make it plausible. When she would make a comment that made me cringe, I simply smiled and said as little as possible (like when she told me how much 7 month old Airianna liked french fries--Airianna was not able to sit up on her own at that point and was still on stage 2 food). But I was doing my best not to offend.

I was worried about their health during visits--specifically Conner's. In October he got a cold. This cold immediately turned to pneumonia and he was returned to breathing treatments. The doctor told me that because of his previous treatment, he had developed a "cigarette allergy" and if he even smells smoke residue on a shirt when he has a cold, it could turn into pneumonia (I now realize he was trying to tell me that cigarette smoke was a trigger for his asthma, the point was the same). I had him write up a note to give to the case worker, who gave it to Birth Mom. At that time, she was back with Airianna's birth father. When we arrived at the visit, both of them were standing outside the building smoking. When I approached with the children, Birth Mom said, "yeah, we smoke and that isn't going to change." I smiled and nodded and walked away. And reported what she said to the case worker.

And of course I always worried about what the kids were seeing and hearing during their visits. I knew that Conner was getting spoiled at visits (and expected it), but I also knew he was being exposed to strange men and other weird visitors despite being specifically told the visits were supposed to be for family only. By the end of the six months, Birth Mom had introduced two new "Daddies"...they weren't the last.

After each visit, Conner would come home a different person. Every week I would have to "reprogram" him. I would send him off as mild-mannered Conner and he would return as the evil villain "NO Boy". It would take me a day before I would have to stop sending him to the "no fit corner" every hour. Also, Birth Mom spitefully messed up his clothes each week--did she really HAVE to give him cherry kool-aid at every visit? (I know...not that big of a deal, but EVERY week I sent him in new clothes and EVERY week he came home with kool-aid stains and ketchup and mustard all over them...sigh...)

I mentioned his disposition to his case worker and was told that the court would look at it in one of two ways: either they would see it as Conner getting whatever he wanted at visits and thus behaving accordingly when he returned to my house, or they would see it as Conner acting out because he missed his birth mom. I personally thought it was the first reason: Conner never talked about his birth mom. When I came to pick him up, he never cried (unless she buckled him in the car seat. On those times, she would give him something to play with and then take it with her when she left--like her iPod that she "found" at her work--then he would cry). When I dropped him off, he ignored her and went straight for the toys. He never called her by any kind of name. He never really knew her before so to him she was just the person watching him while he played for 2 hours...no different than the nursery workers at church.

The judge in our case would say the latter.

At the 6 month court hearing, the judge gave Birth Mom the warning that if she missed any more visits, the case plan would change to severance at the next hearing. She never missed another visit.

He also told the case worker that--despite the fact she had done nothing that the case plan had asked--he wanted to up the reunification process. Visits should be increased to four hours once a week--still only one hour supervised. She should also be allowed to take the children somewhere besides the CPS office as long as she had approved car seats (she claimed she had sold their car seats at a garage sale sometime in the first six months).

This was a hard pill to swallow, but it was just the beginning. Shortly after Thanksgiving, I received a phone call from the case worker stating that there was a plan for an overnight visit.

"Excuse me?" I asked, certain I'd misheard.

"Birth Mom has requested a weekend visit over Christmas and the GAL is thinking about granting it," the case worker restated.

"So, you're telling me that she is going from a 4 hour visit to 48 hours unsupervised? Over CHRISTMAS!"

"Look, you are going to have to get used to the idea. The judge is ordering that the reunification plan get moved forward. We will start with weekend visits every other week, then every week, then four day visits until they are moved back full time."

I almost dropped the phone. Prior to the 6 month hearing, the case worker had been certain that severance would happen at the 1 year mark (which is the earliest it would happen unless there was severe abuse). Now he was saying that reunification was inevitable. I wanted to strangle him. He got our hopes up for nothing!

And what about Airianna?

"Airianna can't handle that. She cries at every visit. She wouldn't be able to handle a weekend."

"Well, she'll just have to deal with it. Look, I have to go. I'll call you when I know more details." Click.

And that was it.

I hung up and cried.

And sent out prayer requests to every single person I knew.

The next day I received a phone call stating that the visit wouldn't be allowed because she has only had 4 hours unsupervised up to that point. I breathed a sigh of relief and continued hanging up their Christmas stockings.







I found this e-mail I wrote to a friend of mine who is also a foster parent...it sums up how I was feeling at this point in the process:

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The reason I'm writing (besides saying hi and seeing how you guys are doing) is I was just curious if any of your kids were ever seriously thought of for reunification. Birth Mom has been doing what she needs to do since September--before that (the first 6 months) she missed 60% of her visits (including Conner's second birthday) had not attended a single parenting class, was not doing counseling, etc. Then in September she moved back in with her parents and since then she's done everything she needs to do (she got a steady job as a waitress at a gogo night club for 3 months, is about to graduate her parenting class, has been attending her counseling and has been making it to visits) (Side Note: I found out later that she wasn't doing any of that stuff...she was just telling them that she was...) except she can't live with her parents (they have been ruled as unacceptable for a living place for the kids). So because she is doing everything she needs to do, they are moving forward on the reunification process. They will have their first completely unsupervised visit on Wednesday for an hour at the mall. They had originally requested Dec. 24th-26th for their first unsupervised visit, but were denied because they hadn't had a single unsupervised visit before then to have a 48-hour unsupervised. We were heartbroken they had even considered it!

Anyway, I was just wondering if any of your kids went so far as to have unsupervised visits. I personally still don't think she'll get the kids back if she has to move out on her own (her lawyer is fighting that she is in a stable place and she shouldn't have to move) because we feel her parents are making her go to her classes, the visits, etc. The kids don't like their visits--Conner has actually kicked her! He has never done anything even remotely like that to us (or anyone in the nursery). He ignores her and tells her no and throws fits the whole time. Airianna only does okay because it is a consistent place every week--the entire month of September (when the mom came back after a 6 week "vacation") she cried every visit. But we are scared that she will get them back because the system really works hard to put the kids back with their "family".

Conner has a severe smoking allergy because they used to blow smoke directly in his face as a baby--when we got him he was on breathing treatments that we have weaned him from--the allergy is so bad that if he has a cold and he even smells smoke on a shirt he will get pneumonia. I told this to his mom and she told me that they smoke and that is not going to change. I make them bring clean clothes to the visits or I won't let Conner go. A couple of weeks ago Airianna was vomiting (we didn't know why at the time, but it turns out she had a double ear infection poor thing!) I went ahead and brought her to the visit anyway because it was the week of Christmas, but I told the mom 3 times that Airianna had thrown up her pedialyte that morning (1 hour before) and that she shouldn't eat anything and she should only drink pedialyte that I provided. That afternoon I took her to the doctor and she threw up on me...couldn't figure out why until I called the parent aid to tell her about the ear infection and she told me that the mom had not only fed her, but had given her an entire "meal" despite the warnings from the parent aid that I had said the doctor said not to feed her--her response was 'she's fine...see she's not vomiting.'

Then there's the whole gothic world that she's apart of. She is actually registered online as a sex slave to 3 different men and wears her bar-code proudly. That really concerns me because if she isn't in control of herself, who's to say she won't hook up with a pedophile??? As you can see I really don't want reunification and I was just hoping that maybe one of your kids started the reunification process and it didn't go too much further...Any words of encouragement?

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CPS would talk about removing the kids from my care seriously at least 3 more times. The thought of Airianna being placed in a home with sexual deviants scared me beyond belief. Even now I tear up just thinking about it...

In my next post, I will talk about the words of encouragement I received from my friend and the lessons God chose to teach me during this time.


Part 5

I Can't Breathe

This morning I woke up with a tiny hand covering my mouth.

"Ariana, what are you doing?"

"I'm keeping you safe."

"By covering my mouth?"

"Mmmhmmm...I'm keeping the spiders out."

Oh. Okay. Thanks, Baby Doll.

Our Adoption Story: Part 3...Meeting Birth Mom

As I mentioned in the end of Part 2, we originally had no intention of adopting our children. Although I didn't quite think of myself as a glorified babysitter, I wasn't viewing them as "my" children either.

I tried my best to give the birth mother the benefit of the doubt. She must be young. She just doesn't know any better. Perhaps this is the wake up call she needs to get her life together. I truly wanted to help her and I wanted her to succeed in turning her life around.

I tried to place myself in her shoes. If my kids had been "taken" from me, I would want to know as much as possible about the people who had them. I wanted to give her the opportunity to ask me questions and put her mind at ease. So, I asked the parent aid (the person who monitors the visits), if there was any way I could get her phone number so I could talk with her. Birth Mom consented and I had my first conversation with her.

I don't remember most of the conversation (it was quite long), but I do remember bits and pieces. She told me that she was 21 years old and that this was the second time that Conner had been removed. The first time he was only taken for 2 weeks and that foster mom had cut his hair. It really upset her. Because of this, I didn't cut his hair for almost 2 months even though it was already fairly shaggy when I got him.

She also told me that the day care provider that called CPS was only 14 years old and was overreacting. She claimed that the bruises on Airianna's face were caused by Conner hitting her with a toy and that any "normal" person would have understood. Despite the fact that it didn't make sense to me that she would leave her 18 month old alone with her 3 month old long enough for him to completely bruise up her face, I tried to understand her point of view. Connor rarely wanted anything to do with Airianna at all (she was pretty stationary at that point--no fun!), but I tried to convince myself that he actually did it and did it out of jealousy. It didn't fit well with the (mostly) gentle boy I was beginning to know quite well, but again, I was trying to give her the benefit of the doubt.

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Birth Mom had missed her two week court date which automatically entered the kids into the foster care system. She would be evaluated again in six months. In the meantime, she was supposed to attend regular visits with the kids (at that time the visits were scheduled for one hour, twice a week); she was assigned a parent aid to assist with teaching her mothering-type skill sets during the visits; she was supposed to attend a 6 week parenting course; she was supposed to find a new place to live (she had been living with her parents and the courts ruled that was an unsuitable environment for the kids--CPS would help her find an apartment if needed); and she was supposed to work for a minimum of 20 hours a week (CPS would also help her find a job if needed). During those first six months, none of those conditions were met to the court's satisfaction. In the first two months alone, she missed 6 of her 16 visits.

Toward the end of the 2nd month, the parent aid determined that she could no longer transport the children. We lived about an hour from the CPS office where the visits were held. Transporting the kids meant 4 hours of her day were taken with just that one client. She asked for official transport to pick up the kids. My licensing worker told me that the transportation people weren't always very reliable, and they weren't always very safe. So, I asked if I could drive the kids. The request was granted and I got to officially meet the birth mom.

Birth Mom wasn't quite what I was expecting. Conner looks a lot like Honor so I guessed Birth Mom would look similar to me. It was possible that she did, but it was hard to tell under all the hair dye and make up. Birth Mom was very short, had lots of piercings, and carried an overall "goth" feel about her. Birth Mom was a skilled actress. My first impression was that she was kind and she seemed generally grateful for the care I was taking of her children. She would send home toys or other trinkets with the kids and would stop and discuss their well-being with me. It wasn't until months later that I found out that she had actually stolen many of those toys from the CPS office (Conner liked them so instead of saying "no" to him and putting them away, she just told the parent aid that she brought them from home--it took a while for the parent aid to catch on).

But I digress...

During this time, both children were showing substantial improvement. When we first got Conner, he could only say one word: "Woof"...which was a reference to the dogs. By the end of the first month, he was saying 2-3 word sentences. He was also calling me, "Mommy." I wasn't sure what to think of that at first. I worried that I would insult Birth Mom. I worried that it wasn't the "right" thing to do. I worried that I was causing irreparable damage to his psyche. But my licensing worker assured me that it was normal. "Mommy" was my "name," and unless I wanted to have Honor call me something else, I was just going to have to get used to him calling me Mommy too. When I began actually taking the kids to visits, I did my best to keep him from saying the dreaded "M" word in front of Birth Mom. It became quite the little game for me to try to make his references to me into some other comment he was saying to her.

In the second month, a therapist came to our home and did some testing. Conner was diagnosed with borderline developmental delays. We were told that he would need to be retested in a few months to determine if further treatment would be needed and we were given exercises to help him "improve" in the areas in which he was struggling. In the fourth month he was retested and determined to be "normal," however, they decided that he could remain in our home since he would not officially be diagnosed one way or the other until he was 3.

Airianna was also doing well. She could not sit up (that did not happen until around 9 months), but she was finally able to keep food down and was gaining weight at a good pace. She smiled and laughed a lot. She slept wonderfully. She was easy...as long as I was around. Apparently she cried throughout the visits from the moment I dropped her off to the moment I picked her up. She would also cry if I left the room for any great length of time. She tolerated Daddy, but she only had eyes for Mommy. How could I resist such devotion? She had wiggled her way right into my heart and firmly implanted herself there. She spoke her first word(s) at the age of seven months: "I love you"--I kid you not. It came out as "ILuvU", but it was recognizable and repeatable. I loved her too.

It was during the 4th month that we finally met the case worker. He was an interesting man. One moment I thought he liked us, the next he was very aloof...hard to read. It was he that first brought up the idea of adoption.

We had been told that standard procedure was for the case worker to get the names of five relatives from the birth mom who could take the children if severance happened. In her case, all but one of the families were deemed unfit or chose not to take the kids. So the case worker asked us point blank if we would be willing to adopt should severance happen.

"Um..." we seriously hadn't thought about it. We hadn't thought it was even an option. We had assumed they would be reunified in two more months. That was the goal, right?

But the case manager was pretty certain that would not happen...and he was pretty certain that severance would happen within the year. Birth Mom hadn't exactly been honest with me...ever.

"Um...Oh...Okay...Yes, of course we would adopt them--if the family wasn't able to take them for whatever reason." He jotted it down in his book and left it at that. But the thought was now firmly established in my mind and heart--there was a chance that these children could be ours forever. That changed things. A lot.

Two weeks later, I called the case worker back. "Um...I know I sounded a little unsure when we talked last so I just wanted to be very clear. We want to adopt the kids. If the family is hesitant at all, we really would like to adopt the kids."

I didn't realize at the time how difficult that process would turn out to be...


Part 4

It Has Not Been Connor's Week...Or Mommy's...

So, I have part 3 of our adoption story typed (I still have to proofread it), but I have another post that needs to happen before I forget it...bear with me. Unfortunately it is not a funny post, but it does have a happy ending...or at least not a sad one. (For those of you who know about the incident over the weekend, keep reading to the "then today"...he added a new adventure today...)


Saturday Connor woke up with a cough that lasted all day. Because of Connor's lung issues (you'll learn more about that during the adoption story), every time he gets a cold, he has to have breathing treatments. So, I started him on breathing treatments every 4 hours . I sent him to bed Saturday night with a humidifier, cough medicine, Vick's vapor rub and a breathing treatment. At midnight I went in and checked on him. His breathing was very rapid--40-45 breaths/minute (20 breaths per minute is normal). I gave him another breathing treatment and checked it again. No change. So I called the triage nurse and was told to take him to the ER.

In the ER, his O2 levels were at 88 (that is low--96 is low end of normal). They immediately put him on oxygen, gave him an extra long breathing treatment, and did x-rays to verify there was no pneumonia. No pneumonia...and his O2 levels did not improve. So he got to ride in an ambulance. It was the highlight of his life.

At the new hospital he was diagnosed with asthma. I was actually very happy with this diagnosis--at last I had the opportunity to prevent his "asthma-like symptoms". Before we could go home (on Tuesday), we had to watch videos and take a test about our knowledge of asthma symptoms, triggers, and medicines. Plus they gave me this wonderful tool called a "peak-flow monitor" so that I could know exactly when a breathing treatment was needed and when he needs to go to the hospital. I love it! I've been having him blow into that thing 8-10 times a day and charting away.

Connor actually had a wonderful time at the hospital. He got to play video games, watch movies on demand, eat jello and ice cream, color, play with playdough, and cuddle with Mommy 24 hours a day. The staff adored him. Anything they asked him to do, he did without complaining. They even asked if a couple of nursing students could take their assessment tests with him since he was so compliant--made for an easy test on their part. When it was time to leave he didn't want to go--except he missed his siblings.

We were sent home with 5 different medications to take. I've been giving him breathing treatments every 6 hours, then 2 inhalers morning and night, a singulair at night and another pill in the afternoon. Thankfully that last pill was done today, the breathing treatments should stop sometime next week...hopefully...leaving only the morning and night routine.

Then today...

We woke up, gave him his breathing treatment and went outside to do chores. We'd finished with the chicks and the kids started playing on the trailer we used for the hayride over the weekend. I figured there wasn't much they could hurt themselves on and so I left them there to let the ponies out into the pasture. I was wrong.

As I was closing up the gate, I heard a loud scream. I quickly locked the gate, kicked off my sandals and took off running down the gravel driveway. Connor was hunched over on the ground, holding his stomach....the gate on the back of the trailer was lying on the ground like a ramp.

I picked him up and carried him in the house to look for injuries. His knees were bleeding and he had a large scratch on his back, so I got the box of band-aids out and got to work. When I was done, he was still screaming--that is VERY unusual for him.

"Connor, does it only hurt on the outside or does it hurt inside too?"

"It hurts inside," he wailed.

I called Daddy. He didn't answer--he was in class. So I called Grandpa.

"Um...is the gate on the back of the trailer heavy enough to break ribs?"

"Yes."

"Okay. I have to take Connor into the ER."

I called Daddy again and this time he answered (since he knows I would only call back in an emergency). He left work to meet me in the ER (an hour from where he was). Trying not to panic, I loaded the kids into the truck and raced to the new hospital--the first one we went to on Saturday night before the ambulance ride...thankfully only five minutes away. Tears were streaming down my face as I listened to Connor's wails from the back seat. I expected to see blood pouring out of his mouth at any minute from internal bleeding...

When we got to the ER, I picked up Connor and ran inside...all three of the other kids following close behind. I was really proud of them...they followed without a peep and sat like shadows in the corner of his room without being told. Thankfully Grandma was able to come shortly after we got there and I was able to focus 100% of my attention on my still crying boy.

The hospital only opened a couple of months ago so few people know about it. We literally got right in, only stopping at the front desk to say, "His name is Connor...and I think he has broken ribs." As we were brought into his room, all of the nurses swarmed in. I told them he has asthma so they immediately hooked him up to the pulse ox machine--his O2 levels were fine thankfully. The room was very high-tech. I put him down on the bed and they weighed him--the bed was a scale. The doctor followed the nurses in and once he knew what the problem was, he had them bring him a laptop with cords...this was the ultrasound machine. The doctor performed the ultrasound right away and determined that he wasn't bleeding internally. Right behind the doctor came the X-Ray machine--which uploaded to the doctor's laptop. His X-rays looked good. Right behind the X-ray technicians came the CT scan man. He wheeled Connor down the hall to the CT scan room.

It was a new highlight of Connor's life.

Sometime in all those testings, the nurses found a way to give Connor some Motrin as a pain killer so he was only whimpering a little by the time they got to the CT scan. When he saw the "space ship machine" he was excited. The man told him to hold still (which he did because he is literally the best patient ever) and then we left the room. I could hear the robotic voice announcing for him to "Please hold your breath now"..."You may breathe normally now..." OH JOY! Connor was in much better spirits after the CT scan.

Finally I was able to find out exactly what happened. Apparently Connor saw the pins holding the gate up and got curious as to what they did. He pulled them out and the gate came crashing down on top of him. Thankfully his instincts kicked in and he curled into a ball. If the gate had smashed down on his stomach, there would have been a lot more damage. God has special plans for that boy!

The doctor told me right away that he looked over the scans and they all looked clear, but he had to wait to hear from the radiologists to be certain. My mind was at ease. The whole visit took an hour and a half. I think that is fantastic time for three major tests to be done and read. Connor will be fine--albeit quite sore for a few days.

And he learned why Mommy always says, "curiosity killed the cat..."

He'll be a little less curious...for a few days anyway...

Our Adoption Story: Part 2...New Additions

The first week after getting Conner was an adjustment period for all of us. Not only did we have a new little person in the house to "babysit", but I had to learn how to get all the foster care paperwork/procedures done. Appointments were scheduled for our primary physician, social worker, Guardian Ad Litem (GAL), case worker, licensing worker, CASA, and therapist.

The day after we got him, we had to take him to our pediatrician. Since I hadn't been prepared with new clothes, he had to wear some hand-me-downs from the neighbor that were a little big on him (I wasn't going to let him wear clothes that were too small for him and smelled like a pack of cigarettes--which was what was sent in his diaper bag). I remember sitting there with him in the waiting room of the doctor's office, thinking of ways that I could mention that he was a foster child to the other moms in the room lest they think that I was the one who had scratched up his face and made him look that awful (prideful much?). The doctor looked him over and, despite being underweight, pronounced him in fairly good health--except for some chronic bronchitis. He also sent us home with a breathing treatment machine...apparently having cigarette smoke blown in your face for amusement is bad for your lungs...who knew?

In the beginning, breathing treatments were horrible. We had to do it four times a day and he screamed the entire time. The doctor said that was actually a good thing since it meant it was being drawn into his lungs better, but it sure made it a miserable experience for us! Eventually he calmed down enough that we were able to use breathing treatment time as "story time" and he cuddled happily on our laps and took his "medicine".

The first few days was a honeymoon period. Every toy was new, the dogs were new, the food was new, Honor was new...he was as sweet as pie. But by the third day, it became evident that we had our work cut out for us. 18 month old Conner had a big problem with the word, "no" and if Honor made him mad...well...he was a biter.

So, the "no fit corner" was invented and worked wonders. Conner took well to consistent discipline and by the end of the first week, we began to get into some semblance of a routine.

Then our licensing worker called.

"How's everything going?"

"Pretty good. Actually, it's a lot easier than I was expecting."

"Well, that's good. Listen, Conner had a sister that was also removed."

"Yeah, the case worker mentioned that when she dropped him off."

"Oh. Well, the foster mom that took his sister is having a hard time with the baby. Apparently she cries all the time and the foster mom's daughter isn't getting enough sleep in order to be functional at her job. They want to find a new placement for her. Do you think you guys could handle having the baby too?"

I didn't even need to ask my husband...we'd already talked about how we wished they wouldn't have had to separate the two siblings. "Sure--we're used to babies here. But how would that work? We're only licensed for one."

"I'll talk to the case worker and if he agrees, we'll rush through a license. You should be able to get her by the end of next week."

And that's what happened.

The following week, the parent aid brought over Airianna--a tiny little bundle of 4 month old sleepiness. Airianna had been the reason for the removal in the first place. The day care provider had been concerned with the bruises on her face and her failure to thrive. The bruises were no longer evident by the time I got her, but she was swimming in our smallest 0-3 month outfit.

I immediately recognized that she was not eating enough formula for her age, nor was she eating often enough. They also hadn't taken into consideration her severe reflux other than giving her medicine. I called my licensing worker. "Um, I am reading the instructions that the other foster mom gave me for Airianna's eating schedule. Am I allowed to change them?"

"Yes. For the most part you are in charge of everything she eats, drinks and wears...unless the birth mom or the case worker tell you specifically otherwise."

"Okay."

I hung up the phone and introduced Airianna to a regular routine--something she had never had before. The first night we had her she slept from 9 pm to 5 am. She rarely cried. The next day I took her to the doctor. She was off the charts (negative) for both height and weight. By the end of the first week with us, she had gained a pound--she was still off the charts, but she was now headed in the right direction.

Airianna bonded to me immediately. I'm sorry to admit that I did not bond with her so quickly. When I first held Conner, he felt like "my" son because he was a boy version of Honor. Airianna was foreign to me. Did I dislike her? No. But she didn't feel like "mine". It was easier to imagine her has a child I was only babysitting. Which at that time I was.

I truly wanted to give these children back to their birth mom. I was prepared for that. After all, the case plan goal was reunification. We weren't in the "Fost-to-Adopt" program--after all, we had no issues having children of our own. I fully intended to get the kids "ready" to go home to their birth mom. At this point, I viewed my "job" as a daycare provider with perks. I was going to work through Conner's "no" issues and Airianna's eating issues--maybe even potty train Conner and get him to talk--and hopefully get to help the mom out a little before giving the kids back.

I was so very deceived.


Part 3

Our Adoption Story: Part 1...Licensing

Our story started back in Iowa almost 6 years ago. My husband's friend convinced him that he would eventually take over his dad's business and he wanted a partner. So we decided to move down to Arizona. Unfortunately, it would be five years before he would be ready to hand over his business and in the meantime, my husband would have to work doing construction in the business to learn how it was run. His income would not be enough to support our family.

We talked about me opening a daycare, but I really wasn't excited about that--with a daycare you have to pretty much stay home all the time and you have to deal with other people's kids who may or may not be well-mannered. Not my cup of tea.

My father-in-law owns a licensing agency for foster families for developmentally disabled adults. "Let's just get a mentally-handicapped adult. They go away for daycare during the day and the income would make it so you don't have to work outside the home." Um...no. His parents had adults in their home and they were limited on activities at times because they had to find respite (glorified babysitting).

But my husband had grown up with adults in his home and was convinced this was the solution. "We can choose the level of disability we will take. Some of the clients are very high functioning and can even help out around the house." Um...still no. I had a 9 month old Honor at the time and didn't want to risk her getting hurt by a strange adult who didn't know better. Besides...adults just aren't my thing.

"How about regular foster care?" I suggested. We had friends in Iowa who did foster care and I thought that would be better than day care...the kids were mine most of the time so I could influence consistent discipline. But then I remembered that they'd lost a few of their kids for various reasons. I didn't want to do that to Honor.

"How about Developmentally Disabled foster care for children?" My husband countered. "Those kids are in the system usually because no one wants them. They won't be taken."

And so it was settled. We would do DD foster care to enable me to be able to stay at home. Oh wait...that goes against the "selfless sacrifice" label that people like to give foster moms of DD kids. Well the truth is, although I would take any kid that needed a home for free and make it work somehow, it is nice that the state is willing to pay for it. Many of these kids have a lot of special expenses that require the additional income. And frankly, if they didn't pay for it, I could not have afforded to stay at home with these kids who really need that consistency--they've already been bounced around enough--no need to add in new daycare workers too.

But I digress...

Right after Honor turned one, we packed up and moved down to AZ. I didn't even see the home before we moved into it, but as usual, my husband made a good choice. I was very pleased.

We immediately began the process to get our license. To avoid a conflict of interest, my father-in-law suggested a different licensing agency. From the beginning, our licensing agency was efficient, friendly and professional and I will be forever grateful for their help. Then began the long process of homestudies, interviews, reference letters, Article 9 classes, CPR, First Aid, physicals, and endless stacks of paperwork. It took four months from start to finish, but that was actually pretty fast. We were then told that it would take a month or more for our license to be approved by the state, but we were okay'd for respite. So I did respite.

Our first consistent client was "Jamie". Jamie was 4 years old with the mentality of an 18 month old. When we took her for overnights, I had to rub her head until she fell asleep. She still took a bottle at bedtime and she was not potty trained. Changing a 4 year old's diaper is not fun--especially when you are used to "baby poops". Overall she was a sweet little girl, but she didn't communicate well and I was glad when we were no longer needed to watch her.

I prayed that our foster child would be either a baby or able to communicate better.

Only a few weeks later our license came through for one child, age 0-11 years. We were told it would be another couple of months before we got a placement. Two weeks later I received this call:

"We have an emergency placement. Would you be willing to take him?"

"Of course."

"Okay, he is currently waiting at the DHS building in Tempe. It looks like it will be after dinner before he can be brought to you. We don't know what, if any, developmental delays he has. All I know is, his birthday is August 17th, and his name is Conner."

"Thank you."

I hung up the phone and ran out to Walmart to get another crib and another car seat. I had no idea what Conner would be like, but I loved him already. How could I not? His name rhymed with my daughter's and they were exactly the same age! If this wasn't God-ordained, I didn't know what was!

Conner ended up coming to our home a little after 8 pm. We had already put Honor to bed so we were able to devote all of our attention to our new foster son. We waited anxiously as the case worker brought in his few belongings--a diaper bag filled with one change of clothes, and a some diapers. It smelled so strongly of cigarette smoke that I had to put it into the garage. The smell then permeated the entire garage so much that I had to take it outside.

Then the case worker went out to the car to get him. I had no idea what to expect. In my mind's eye, I had pictured a little Hispanic boy. I was completely unprepared for him. He was Honor's twin! Same sandy blond hair. Same brown eyes. Same chubby cheeks. She brought him in and handed him to me. Conner clung to me like another body part and he felt so natural there.

I wasn't told much information other than his mom would have a hearing in two weeks to have a chance to get her kids back--Conner had a sister that went to another foster home because we were only licensed for one. After two weeks, if the judge ruled against her, he would officially enter the foster care system. I needed to take him to the doctor within the next 48 hours to get him checked out. Someone from the office would be in contact with me sometime in the next few days.

And that was it. They left our house and we were left with a stranger that we were supposed to love as our own.

Conner, the day after we got him. That night we gave him his first bath.
Although the day care provider had cleaned him, he still left a ring round our bathtub from the layer of filth on him.

Honor and Conner...friends from the beginning.

Part 2

Happy National Adoption Awareness Month

It's National Adoption Awareness Month. What a wonderful month! A chance to celebrate second chances! So, in light of the theme of this month, I thought I would rehash some of the highlights of our adoption story.

(I would be remiss if I didn't tell you that the idea actually came from Emily...any other ideas for posts, Emily???)

First, I want to dispel the common misconception that people who adopt children do so because they are unable to conceive on their own. Although this may be the case for some people, we in fact have no problems in that area...and that is all that needs to be said there.

Second, those who do foster care or adopt, are not saints and we are not "child-stealers". We are normal, every day people who love children and feel called to serve in this area. We are definitely not perfect (as you can see from my blog!), but we do our best. Are there bad foster parents out there? YES. Are they the norm...in my experience, no. Please don't demonize us or paint halos around our heads--we don't deserve either.

Finally, a disclaimer. The story I am about to tell is limited by confidentiality agreements. I will not tell everything and much will be generalized. Also, this is OUR experience. Others may have a more difficult foster situation or an easier adoption. Every case is completely different and depends on many factors.

And now onto our story....

...in the next post. It's bedtime and I'm tired...

Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5
Clarification
Part 6
Part 7
Part 8
Part 9
Part 10