Look at this, I'm finally unfrozen

It has been too long.  But almost all my writing mojo dried up (along with my eggs, I guess) and I really didn't know what I wanted to do with this spot.

But I kind of need it right now.  Because I'm sitting here reading over paperwork from attorneys for the second day since I'm in the incredible category of CHOSEN by a birth mom.

Y'all.  I just have no words.  After I said I need this space for words, I know!

Anyway, let me finish up this last contract read over, send off another retainer, and I'll try to at least update the timeline of my IF/Adoption journey. 

In case anyone is still out there following along.

Love,
Your Pregnant-On-Paper Blogess

Frozen

No, not the movie, though I do still have yet to watch it.  More me and the prospect that seems to strike fear in every adoptive parents soul: writing the "Dear Birth Family" letter.

• Homestudy done?  Yep
• Agency chosen? Yep
• Lots of money already paid? Yep
• Letting months going by because you are to terrified to answer questions about yourself?  Oh yeah.

So this is my unthawing.  I completed my nearly already completed supplemental questions.  I managed a cover photo for my "brochure" (self-portrait, thankyouverymuch, as all photog friends were MIA...).

And I am emailing them off to the agency tomorrow!  dammit.

And I am even opening the file from the brochure expert I'm working with which has all the questions and subjects to cover for Dear Birth Family laid out to make it all so EASY!  E-a-s-y.

That is, as soon as you slay that giant Dragon o' Fear you have inside that now one will see you as a match or a mom, and make yourself unthaw.

It is May, not April, that is the cruelest month

(journal entry for AJ)

It is full of important days. Mother’s Day. Birthdays. Anniversaries of when we first met. It is heartache piled up around me, a new gauntlet for me to walk through every year. There was one wonderful year when all those days were happy days; I have to remember that year in those that follow when they are sad.

At some point we passed that dreaded marker I didn’t want to pass: That day when you would have been gone from me longer than you were here. I don’t know what date that was, and my brain refuses to figure it out. It is enough for my heart and soul to know that it happened. All I can do is pray that I did enough for you. That someday you will hear about me. That you will want to know. That some small precious part of you could will remember.

It seems fitting today that I finished up listening to a book I was grudgingly reading, upon the recommendation of a very dear and well-meaning friend. I made judgments the whole time, about the immaturity of the author’s voice, about the constant quoting of Bible verses. About evangelical callings and how I felt I was being insulted that my quiet, soul-centered and personal spirituality that has carried me through everything, was lacking because it is not Christ centered. But the last chapter that was delivered to me today was unexpected and dealt a hard blow. There was our story being played out halfway around the world to someone else. A sweet baby girl being taken from her loving foster mama and 13 foster siblings, the only home she had ever known, because birthing a child with your body counts more than birthing her with one's soul. Even when that child is abandoned, thrown away to starve and die. And as I listened, I realized that perhaps I had to be not truly enjoying the writing in this book or the author or the focus on scripture in order to build up my armor for what was going to hit.

Because what happened was truth.

I always said, especially when it came to us, there was no such thing as coincidence. We were brought together for a reason. But we were also torn apart for a reason. I knew the answer would have to come later, that there would have to be so much pain and hurt and sorrow first before I could start to see things.

And today, I saw even more clearly the truth behind much of what I had come to accept in these 18+ months.

What I realized today was that I had asked for this. Not just a child, a little girl to hold and love and call my own. But I asked for transformation, to be made a better, more loving, more giving person. I wanted my path, my purpose to be shown to me. And I wanted others to see it as well with no doubt.

The Universe granted that to me so fully in all of this. There is no doubt in my heart that my soul, for as long as I can remember had been asking for this: to be a mother. This is the passion and calling that I have to be, it is what I have to be, and we showed everyone around us how true that was. I thought I had already fought for it to happen, but I did not know struggle; I did not know pain. I did not know the face of grief and the darkest pieces of myself

I had to pay a price if I was truly going to transform. I am a different woman, a different person walking in the world now. I know things not everyone else does, but because of what I have gained, now I can show that much more compassion for others. I can understand trauma, loss and grief on different levels. This will come into play in my nursing career.

But that career will always be secondary, secondary to what this heart was created to do, which is to love you and others.

I can only trust that if I have been able to walk and struggle through this and see the greater purpose, that your journey has been the same. Perhaps it is only understood in the deepest, wisest part of your soul, and not something you may ever consciously be aware of, but your journey in this was for a reason as well.

That moment of trauma will have changed you. I can only hope that with all the love I gave you that it manages to be a change of good, and not a haunting scar.

I miss you, my baby girl. You will always be my daughter, my special one, the place I throw so much love and tears. Grow up brave and strong and loving and smart. I cannot even begin to imagine what you look like now at 3, but there must be dark blonde curls that are kissed with red and gold when the sun shines. That impish smile, and that deep laugh of yours still rings out. And those oh so serious hazel eyes, how they watched from a stern and solemn face, taking in everything before you act or move or think. You are the most beautiful little girl. Please know that I will always, always love you.

Happy birthday, my sweet monkey bean.

So many corners turned I'm lost in a labyrinth again

Grief is a living, breathing thing that once it is attached to you, never goes away.  The personality of it may change, the behaviors, even the wake and sleep cycle of this creature that lives inside of you, but it is always there, a heavy weight that for the most part, you get used to carrying around.

This is to say, I function.  I function quite well.  I'm told, "You look so good/so much better/almost normal" by a variety of people.  That is because I am used to sudden gaping holes that will open up before me and suck me into a dark pit of despair without warning.  you get good at hiding thing, at avoiding triggers, and avoiding family and friends when need be.  I guess it is evidence of a weird kind of bond you establish with your grief, your symbiosis as you learn to live again.

But those few more steps forward you start being able to take without the same number of steps back will get you somewhere.

This fall, it got me to finally call the local adoption agency I wanted to work with for my home study.  And in almost dizzyingly fast speed (when compared to foster parent training and home study), you are home study complete and ready to go find a baby.

And though you may dawdle out of fear, or whatever else might be causing upheaval in in life (we will not get into the whole job/family/health spiral of hell I've been having to wrestle with for over a year, but the move into the new year was just plain UGLY - Talk about a trigger for grief) you will eventually get to the point where you just lose it and scream, "I NEED MY BABY NOW DAMMIT!"  And that is your reminder of what in fact you have been pushing through everything else for.  And you have to convince yourself it is not a selfish want or need.  The very being of your self, that drive to be a mother, can't be selfish if it is what you are all about.

So spending time working on all that is involved in putting yourself out there in front of birth families isn't selfish.  And you SHOULD put it at the top of your list.

All that to say, I am wrestling with that which will leave me speechless, the "Dear birth mom" letter.

How do I even begin to sum up who I am, why I want to be a mom, and what an amazing future a child has by getting to be placed with me.

But here we are.

It was a long bit of wandering through a labyrinth I started walking at about 19 when I decided I would adopt a child someday.  It has been a long decade of "being serious" about trying to find my child.  But what I have learned on this journey, it has been invaluable.  I just wish there was a way I could share it with potential birth families out there.

Outing the Single Hussy

EDIT:  Per a typo-laden cease and desist letter (which spelled my name & AJ's name incorrectly several times) from the Rhode Island Department of Children, Youth and Families, I am ordered to stop publishing images of a foster child in state care.  I find this amusing as AJ is no longer in state care -- RI closed her case in March of 2013.  But I am being threatened with law suits is I do not stop discussing her case at all in any public forum or media.  So I'll just leave this here.  I'm sure everyone can come to their own judgment of the glorious Powers That Be who purport to look out for best intests of children in their care.  Those who have watched lives be destroyed and trauma caused at the hands of DCYF certainly don't see this as the case at all, but rather another corrupt political bully throwing their weight around lest truth ever be exposed.

One of the wonders of the internet is the assumed cloak of anonymity.  While some take advantage of it to be complete assholes, I find it allows me to be more honest.  I don't necessarily have people who know me, who judge me, looking over my shoulder and peeking into more than my normal public everyday life.

But then there are times you come to a crossroad and you find you need to combine your public and private voices to expose truths, and amp up the volume.  I'm getting ready to shout.

Grief has taken an odd and unexpected turn.  After my last post regarding another child the state removed from a pre-adoptive home with no notice or reason, my anger hit a point of moving me to do more than get out of bed a brush my teeth.  I emailed the reporter with me story.  And he called.  He listened for an hour and a half to me try and tell our crazy, complicated story.  I fought to remember details I didn't want to remember.  I showed him the video, listened to her screams again at the airport.  I needed him to feel it as acutely as I did, to be just as angry.

He was.

Last Sunday, Wee Bean's story was featured in the Sunday paper:

 Is a Family Court ruling in the best interest of the child?  Not this time

And I added my own illustration with the video showing both our happy times, and then that most awful of days:

not for the faint of heart

Isn't she the most gorgeous girl?  

So those of you who would like to help add your voice to the fight, please consider liking our Facebook page.  I want to amplify my voice, to bring this story to NC where AJ is now, to see if we can't get national exposure to show the flaws of our foster care system.  I may never get to be reunited with AJ, but perhaps with enough attention, with enough exposure, we can save other foster children this pain.  We have a broken system.  judges and social workers have an antiquated and unsubstantiated bias that DNA trumps all.  

DNA is not what makes a family.  DNA does not dictate love and attachment and safety and security.  So many thousands of children continue to be traumatized, turned into damaged adults who then feed the system with their own children to repeat the cycle of social worker job security.  Think of how many families could be made, could be joyous and happy and spreading that sense of love everywhere.

So this is where I out myself.  But I'll never stop being as honest as I am.

This isn't my story, but it might as well be

Just sharing this as proof that AJ and I are only a grain of sand in this state's treatment of children in their care.  Reading this makes me physically ill.  I spoke to the reporter today, and he has been inundated with calls from foster/pre-adoptive parents who have been treated the same.  Still, he wants to help me share AJ's story and continue to stir up problems for DCYF, especially as hers was a case that included lying in court testimony and sending her to another state in exchange for money.

I will try to get back here to post more about how our story unfolded and the trauma that was inflicted.  I'm still moving slowly through a bog of grief so it does take me a while to actually find the energy to face some things.

Family baffled by foster child’s removal

August 18, 2013 01:00 AM
BY BOB KERR
Adoption seems such a warm, generous, kind thing to do. It brings certainty to an uncertain life, provides family where there was none. 

But even when all the right things seem to be in place — a caring and welcoming family and a child who seems a perfect fit in their home — adoption is not a sure thing. There is a process. There are social workers. There are big chunks of the past — the family’s and the child’s — that come into play. There are questions and questions about questions. There is the need to measure up to standards that are not always clear. 

Last month, a boy I will call Jason was taken from his foster home in East Providence by a social worker from the Department of Children, Youth and Families (DCYF). He was taken for a doctor’s appointment. He never came back. Other social workers showed up to collect his clothes and belongings. 

It was the abrupt end of a nearly two-year relationship that Marc and Maria Dauphinee thought was going to lead to adoption. But they were found unacceptable as adoptive parents. They’re not sure why, especially considering how well Jason seemed to be doing in their care. 

“You tell me,” says Marc. “When that child grew so much.” 

He talks of the things Jason did while he lived in their home. He made the honor roll at Riverside Middle School. Then he made it again, and again. He took up the trumpet. He played Little League baseball. His medications for what was originally diagnosed as bipolar disorder were being reduced. 

They first met through Adoption Rhode Island in September 2011. 

“There was an instant connection,” says Marc. 

He remembers Jason telling one of the social workers, “I think I just found my new family.” 

First, there were visits, then daylong stays, then overnights. In July of last year, Jason moved in. He started school in September and saw his name on the honor roll for the first time ever. 

There were questions. There are always questions as a family tries to prove that it is caring enough and doesn’t have any deep, dark secrets that could cause problems. No one should consider adoption without accepting a very thorough, even invasive, examination of their lives. It is incredibly complicated, especially with an older child. The people at DCYF take a very long look at how well a child is faring with a foster family before moving toward adoption. It is, says Stephanie Terry, associate director for child welfare at DCYF, a very fluid situation. 

“Things come up,” she says. 

Obviously, there are things she cannot discuss when it comes to the decision to deny a seemingly deserving, caring couple the opportunity to adopt. 

“We have the utmost respect and admiration for those willing to foster and adopt older children,” says Terry. 

“But sometimes, regardless of putting out their best effort, it evolves over time that this is not the best match.” 

DCYF does not give up easily on the possibility of a child being adopted, Terry says. But things happen. Questions come up. 

There was a question about Maria Dauphinee’s compatibility with Jason. There was a question about whether Jason would get along with Alexander Dauphinee, Marc and Maria’s biological son who is the same age as Jason. 

There were also good, positive signs all over the house in East Providence. There were the honor roll, baseball, playing trumpet in a church band, the need for fewer and fewer medications. And there was another thing Marc mentions — Jason’s increasing comfort as a member of the family. 

But when they tried to force the issue, hire a lawyer and seek a straight answer on whether they were headed for adoption or not, they say they could never get a yes or no. 

Then came the day in July when Jason was picked up for the doctor’s appointment. He didn’t come back. The Dauphinees say they were never told the doctor’s appointment was really the end of their attempt to adopt. 

“My wife called me at my office in tears,” says Dauphinee, maintenance director at Laurelmead in Providence. “It’s astounding.” 

Again, Terry says there is more to the story of how Jason was removed from the Dauphinees’ home. But she can’t discuss it. 

Jason called once after he was taken, and during the conversation, according to Marc, Jason said DCYF workers told him the Dauphinees had never intended to adopt him. 

Now, they wonder where he is, how he’s doing. He was a member of their family and now he’s not. 

“Being one of those kids, it frightens me,” says Marc. 

He was removed from his home when he was 8 and made a ward of the state. He was one of the “night to nighters,” boys in state care who were moved from place to place in what was truly a hideously damaging procedure. 

He grew up hard and beat the odds. And he understands better than most what it means for a kid to come in from the cold. He thought he was doing that for Jason. 

I first met the Dauphinees in March 2006. They had left their jobs to home school and care for their oldest son, Zachary, who was battling cancer. He had been at it for two years then. There was great support from his school and the community. 

Zachary was 10 when he died on the day my column about him appeared in The Providence Journal. 

Marc Dauphinee says the experience with Jason has been in some ways equally painful.

Not on a break, there are just no words when you live in darkness

There has been an item on my to do list since last September: Update Knocked Up.

It should be easy as there has been no lack of things to blog about.

But when your world comes to an end, there is little strength to remember to breathe.  Rehashing your struggles of how and why is of little import.


Perhaps as part of my journey out of this dark hole I can try to start telling the story.


Just know, it is not good.  With no notice, the state came and tried to take A. from me with no notice, and no chance to see her again.  I managed to get another 36 hours with her.

But with no transition, no preparation, a crying, screaming girl was pulled out of my arms at 5 in the morning at the airport, and that is the last I have heard of her.

She is missing.  In attempting to reach out to the birth family for some kind of update and the chance to be a "fairy godmother" and send books and toys and clothes, I hired a private investigator,  The court ordered her to be removed and placed with a specific family member because she HAD to be with half siblings.  But she is not there.  No one will tell me where she is, or what happened.  Is it transition that did not work out right?  Was it all a lie just to get her into foster care in another state?  Is she back in this state and I was lied to yet one more time and would not be offered her placement?

All I know is that there is a two year old child who had her life shattered at 17 months, everything she knew of safety, security and love ripped away from her, and I have to fix that.

Because I cannot breathe without her in my life.

AND!

And I just realized someone IS saying "thank you!"  A. very much has her own language and carries on very fast conversations, and clearly knows just what she is saying (and is sure you know as well).  "Kitty," "Hi, kitty!" and "Uh oh" have been a part of her vocab (that others and I can understand) for months.

But it just clicked to me that "Dthuh do" that she has been saying for a while as well is her repeating back "thank you" to me.

Hey, I'm new at this mom thing!  And now I hear a string of "Uh ohs," coming from the kitchen, so off I go....

I really have to record these little milestones

Some one discovered her belly button this morning.  Even in the fit of overtired crankiness, she has to drop to the floor, pull up her shirt and manipulate her round Buddha belly until she can poke it again, checking to make sure it is still there.

I'm also highly amused that she discovered she cannot find it when standing.  A. has quite the impressive big round Buddha belly.  :)

Of course now I have to sorry that the red marks she is leaving on her belly from pulling at it will develop into bruises I have to somehow explain....

Late again

Remember those days of that 2ww, and what being late meant?  Ah, well, age, you have cured me.

I have been trying to find moment to get up here and update the events of the hearing on July 23, but Super!Active A really does make it challenging!  She is just downright jealous if I spend time on the computer -- she needs to drive that thing!  So I basically just stay away from it while she is awake.  And now it is past my bed-time (or what should be my bedtime), but not updating is driving me crazy.

Of course I'm still trying to figure out what exactly happened, and how to convey it.  Basically, the case switched judges.  Which my attorney was worried about.  Neither judge has a great reputation, but he felt we had more of chance of being heard with Judge #1.

Basically, what he did was prepare a motion to try and get me standing as a party to the case.  This is beyond a long-shot.  I'm a foster parent; no matter which legal argument you look at for the basis of standing, I don't have it.  BUT, it gave us the chance to present the motion to the court.  A beautiful, 4 page motion that laid out the plain and simple facts of this case.  A was born in State X; she is a citizen of State X; she had 2 1-hour visitations from BM before BM abandoned her in STate X 13 months ago; A is bonded with me and my family; A has never met her distant family in STate Y; all State X CPS is trying to do here is move her from one foster home to another.  So Judge #2 (who looks to be about 104) takes the time and reads the entire motion, then smiles at my attorney and says thank you, motion for standing is denied.  My attorney starts to argue and the judge cuts him off, saying of course foster parents are allowed to be present, they should be at every hearing (really?  could you tell my social worker who has lied to me about every singel court date that??), but I don't get to be a party to the case.

I'm beyond needing to throw up at this point.  Judge #2 then turns to the state and explodes in a tirade over, "Why are we here?  What are you doing to this poor 14 months old child?  Someone tell me why taking her out of her crib, her only home she has known and placing her with strangers in another state is in her best interest?"

I think my jaw hit the floor.  I wasn't expecting this from him.  Neither was the state's attorney, social worker, guardian ad litem or BM's public defender.  They were speechless and their head spinning.  All this is going on the record.  My attorney is able to jump up and interject with facts and information, and the state is looking more and more like idiots.  Their attorney kept stammering about it is required under law that A be placed with siblings (it isn't).  It was pointed out that these are half siblings, none with the same birth father.  The look of disgust on Judge #2's face was clear, and he continued to rant against the state and their delay on handling this case, and properly enacting the law.  (Come to find out, the ICPC paperwork required to be in place to move A out of state is NOT is her file -- NC has never returned it; the state was going to simply take her out of my care without it!!!)   He asked again, one final time on what basis the state was for making this decision (decision, not motion, as they had nothing in writing), and again the stammering argument that kinship placement is required.  Judge #2 sneered, "DNA denied, motion denied.  The child is to stay where she is.  If you don't like it, appeal it.  Let them decide upstairs what is in her best interest since none of you can."

I am seriously in love with Judge #2.

There is going to be another status hearing the end of August, hopefully still in front of this judge, who has clearly had it with the incompetancy of the state and how they sleep walk through cases, never actually looking at the facts and circumstances (never mind their huge effing mistake they made on this one).  BM's attorney is appealing the judges decision, so that is out there as well.

Meanwhile, amazing attorney* and I have put out heads together and have about 3 other irons in the fire right now just to keep me front and center in all the action, and to also make the state look like even bigger idiots for not going, "Gee, the child has a chance to permanency where she is now, and that is really what Title IV-E is really all about.  Should we stop wasting money and let her be adopted?"  Biggest thing is reaching out to BM, as she still has rights and can really call the shots on this one if she wishes.  I want her to know how great A is doing, and that I want A to know BM, her family and her half-siblings.  This is a chance for two families to grow and benefit, and this kiddo really deserves follow through on the opportunity she has been given here.

I love that when I first met with this attorney, he was reluctant to charge me much for this case, never mind take it, because he really didn't feel like we had a chance.  But as things unfolded and I passed on the research I had done and detailed the facts more, he has become more intrigued and excited about it, and really feels like we can make this happen.

~~~~~~~~

So that's where things are.  I still have phone calls and meetings and things I'm following up on our various irons that are in the fire.  A continues to amaze me and crack me up on a daily basis.  Climbing.  That is the new thing.  Serious climbing.  I always thought that there was a 2 months or so grace period between the beginning of walking and climbing; I got at most 2 weeks.  And she remains a complete mimic on everything.  I must talk on the phone more than I think because she is always on the phone, jib-jabbering away.  Talkative does not even begin to describe her.  Her language skills were evident at 6 months, and she has a very clear and evident language all her own, and is never quiet.  She talks to herself (and makes herself laugh, which is hysterical), her toys, the cats, the computer, me, and possibly a troop of invisible friends.

I cannot wait until the day I can share pictures with you all, because she really is something.  I have got to remember to take my video camera into the bath with us as she is very funny about taking the little round basin that came home with her from the hospital and putting it on her head as a hat, and then checking her reflection in the drain overflow cover, grinning and adjusting it, and posing at different angles.  As is constantly being on the phone wasn't evidence enough of the teenage years to come!


Thanks to ALL of you for your good thoughts and prayers, because I truly believe that was the basis for the shocking turn of events in court.  Please keep the prayers and thoughts coming as we still have a road to go on this, but we can prove we are might and strong -- with LOVE!!


*In talking with a psychologist friend who has a lot of experience in family court and with CPS, he asked who my attorney was and if I felt confident.  I said yes, and gave him my attorney's name.  He paused a second.  "Oh, yeah, I'm familiar with him.  Wow, I wouldn't want to be in court up against him."  Talk about a ringing endorsement.  :)

I know, it has been a while

And much has happened.

For as much as A knows, it has all been good.  Standing unsupported.  First step.  Holding off walking until starting unsupported mobility with a toddler-run.  Wonderful and nummy finger foods.  Words and pointing and learning.  Cuddles, and snuggles, and her favorite person on earth, me.

FOr me, I have all that good.  But several weeks ago the unthinkable happened, and I heard State B approved Distant Relative's home for placement.  State A shrugged said nothing to do.  No more hearings, no appeal, done deal.  Get ready to say goodbye.

I immediately offered weeks of time to sped in State B to allow A to acclimate and bond with this new family and crowded situation, numb to the reality that this was.  But first, Distant Relative would have to come visit in State A.  After all, Distant Relative (DR) had been clamoring to do so on a weekly basis.

Until reality, I guess.  Oh no, DR can't come to State A; DR has too many children to look after.  Oh, and I would not be part of the transition, as I was "too attached" to A.  Instead, a stranger would take her to State B.  There would be 1 hour long supervised visit at DR's home, and two additional 1 hour unsupervised visits, and then that was it.

This is when I woke from my trance.  First with screaming and wracking sobs, and then, quickly, anger and rage.

I have a lawyer.  I'm fighting.  Kinship placement or not, I will never be convinced the trauma being planned for this 14 month old child who is happy, safe, settled, attached and secure is in any why shape or form "in her best interest."

It's a dangerous and potentially losing battle.  But I will go down swinging with every last breath of my body to protect this little girl, and to stop the perpetuation of the cycle that created her birth mom.  I want to know why I have been lied to about every hearing date, why facts about DR seem murky, why DR would honestly refuse photos and progress reports on A, why can I not meet or talk to DR, and why this placement with family was not handled properly and timely in the first 3 months as it should have.  Well, I pretty much know why (federal $$$ reimbursement for placing a child with a relative), but I want the court to look me in the face and tell me why it is going to let a 14 month old child have her psyche destroyed and be whored out in order to get that money.

If DR truly and honestly has one sense of love and care for this child, they would want to know she is safe and secure and happy, and not want to rip her from the love and unending affection she is subject to.  I am never going to deny A her birth family.  I want and need her to know DR and her ever-increasing number of half-siblings, and her birth mother.  It will play as part of her identity as she grows up.  But why must it be done by creating a huge scar across her soul, stunting her intellectual growth and risk creating birth-mom-part-deux in 16-18 years.


Pray for us.  Burn incense.  Chant spells.  Light candles.  We need your love and guidance, and most especially the court needs to just pause one moment, let me present the facts I have, and weigh them.  And hopefully, hopefully, see the fragile, blooming human soul that hangs in the balance and truly does what is in her best interest.

focus on the positive

I continue to live life with A to the fullest, enjoying every single moment.  I just wish there were more hours in my day to record those little milestones, and every single laugh and giggle.  Thank goodness for camera phones!

And I am proud to say that I held off 1 months before snapping a naked tush picture!  But the little imp last week got out of the bath and scooted away from me and the towel to go stand with the toilet acting as her support.  Has she not learned that my phone is always on me?  3 of the cutest shots ever....

We are the moment having our very casual and do nothing Sunday morning before I convince her to take a nap before a late lunch and then a run to the market.  Still in pjs, being silly and in to everything.  This morning we have perfected our "give me 5!"  A couple weeks ago we perfected the dramatic, sing-song "Uh oh!" and boy do we use it all the time.  This kid is going to have great comic timing.

Still no "mummy" but with the constant requests for hugs and snuggles and being her favorite toy on the room, who cares.  In the endless stream of excited babble that pours out of her, I know her word for mummy is in there somewhere.

11:11

Do you ever look at the clock and make a wish at 11:11? And 1:11? and 2:22? I do. And after only a couple days after she came to join me, there is only one thing I am wishing for in this world. Nearly every day I look up and see a clock with one of those magic strong of make a wish numbers and I pause, feeling my heart nearly burst with the will to make it come true.

Since the last update, I did manage to get in touch with A's guardian ad litem. We had a good conversation, and she was very polite, compassionate, and dare I say, positive sounding. The one thing she said that gave me hope was the phrase, "Even if State Y [where they are trying to send her] approves birth-mom's aunt for foster care, State X [my state] has some serious concerns regarding the size of the house and the number of children already in her care."

So does that mean that even if an ICPC is approved by the receiving state, the sending state can then sit back, look at the two potential placement options and NOT send a child to the "preferred custody" of birth family? That seems to be the 6 million dollar question right now, and no one knows the answer. It may be an answer that is up to the judge. And I know the judge this case is in front of does always favor birth-family.

My fingers are still crossed the whole thing is solved neat and easy with State Y saying, "Nope, not gonna work as a foster placement here," and she thus stays here.

I did ask the guardian ad litem for a home visit so she could meet A and actually know who she was arguing for, and she agreed to have the CASA (court appointed special advocate) social worker get in touch with me to schedule that. Within a week, the social worker had called me and came out for a visit. Again, she was a very positive and really wanted to know A. Happily A. was in good form, crawling over to pull herself up on the SW's legs, inspecting her rings, and joust doing this soul-searching gaze she has into the SW's eyes, before racing back to me and throwing herself into my arms to cuddle. Toys? Nah, she's not into paling with toys or being distracted by them, A is all about people and hugs.

I did print up about 5 photos to give to the SW to put in her file so the attorney and the judge would put a face to the case number, and the SW was thrilled -- which relieved me since I didn't know if I was being too ballsy. The SW has worked for CASA for 20+ years now, and when she came in, I started into my schpeel of the nonsense this case has been tied up with, then paused and said, "Wait, do you know her whole story?" as far as birth-mom, number of half-siblings and birth-mom's current situation. She wasn't sure so I started to tell her, and she immediately said, "Oh, yes, I remember this case! I've been doing this for decades so nothing phases me anymore, but this case actually made me sick and angry as I read it." Good. Please tell that to the judge!

So this is where we sit, waiting, wondering, praying until the permanency hearing on May 25. More and more A is bonded to me and her whole large family that has sprung up around us.

I'm trying to focus hard on the words a friend said about the craziness of this situation, and how clearly the Universe has declared her to be my child, because it isn't for "no reason" that birth-mom left State Y while 8+ months pregnant and gave birth to this child in State X. It was because A was meant to be my child. It has to be a sign that we both came together when we did given the crazy journeys we had each been on. Right?

hitting emotional exhaustion

Thanks for the comments and letting me rant. Funny How you can always find time to blog when things are crappy, but when they are happy and fun, you never get a moment. RIght now I'm just trying to keep myself from engaging in any retail therapy.

I did call the child advocate yesterday, but despite all my arguments, I was blown off with the answer that the state child protection agency was doing exactly what they were supposed to by promoting the reconciliation of A with her birth mom.

Wow. There are those three letters (WTF) again.

Told ya, birth parents rights always trump what may be the best interest of the kid. As I said to my private agency SW this afternoon, no one in this business wants to talk about the 600 pound elephant that is in the room, which is ::gasp:: reconciling with the birth family may NOT be in the best interest of the child.

Certainly wasn't for that 4 month old little boy last month who was returned to his birth parents, and is now lying in a coma with massive head injuries.

So I was so upset by yesterday's phone call and feeling defeated that I didn't call A's guardian ad litem (GAL), whose name I finally got. Then talked myself into feeling completely defeated and that there was no point. Luckily my private agency SW called to check in on me (and let me cry), and convinced me no, I need to call and ask for a home visit, or appointment so she can meet A. That I need to say this child is 10 months old, and I am the only mother she has know, this is her only family. Maybe things would feel different if there had ben regular family visits, or if my offers to be in contact with birth family and share photos and updates had been acted on. So I called and left a voice mail and will wait to hear back tomorrow. And if I don't, I will call again. And again. I will be that person.

In the meantime, I'm not sleeping. I'm either staying up until all hours doing weird OCD cleaning (i.e., I can organize the pantry and dust shelves no one sees, but I can't manage to vacuum) or just sitting up in the chair, snuggling with a sleeping A, trying to hold on to every minute I have to be with her. I'm trying to prepare myself by mentally packing a suitcase for her, figuring out what clothes she'll go home with, with toys, what ones I have to hold on to for my sake. I spent acupuncture this morning in a fitful doze, realizing I most likely could not handle another foster placement right away, and wondering if I ever could.

I want to hold on to hope that State Y will say no to the placement, but I also know that could be a very slim chance. No one understands why foster care and protective services run they way that they do. The only thing anyone involved understands in that there is always pain for someone involved.

Roller coaster rides

There is always a warning when you enter the foster care system that you are signing up for a years long roller coaster of emotions, hopes and heartbreak. I think in the last few months, I've have my fill for about 3 placements already.

The other two points they emphasize is that your first placement will never be the one who stays to be adopted, and that ever case is unique. Which means every social worker and foster parent knows at least one person who did adopt their first placement.

This placement remains in a holding pattern, but the state worker of late has been calling me and been what I call giving me signs. A great big kibosh has been placed from her last in-home visit when she was all smiles, and I have a feeling this is going to work out. Will you keep her name as [A] or would you change it?

If you are ever a social worker, don't ever start having conversations like that with your clients unless you are holding something in your hands from the court making things official. Because man, that hill that you are suddenly climbing on the roller coaster is not so exhilarating when you suddenly turn the track into a lunge straight down.

First was the phone call where suddenly all joy and grins were gone, and when I brought up the recommendation for termination of parental rights at 1 year (6 months after it was statutorily due), I was told, oh, no, social work can't recommend TPR; it's not appropriate for us to tell legal how this case should be handled. Really? Then what does social work do? But speaking of legal, when is the next court date, because I'd like to attend. That would be a wast of your time, really, no point in your going and a bunch of other stuff, and her never telling me the next court date.

This was all told to my CF (private agency) SW, who pretty much hit the roof. The placement had already been the subject of meetings with higher ups at CF who are done with scratching their heads over how the state is handling this case, and ready to call in the big guns. We've hit the 9 month mark with this child . I'm the only family she has known. There has been no visitation with birth family. Time to start pushing for what is in the best interest of the child

You know that adage. We all know that adage. It's what foster care and family court is all about. Well, except in the real world, when it is all about the state's money first, and birth parent rights second. Even if that means putting a child back into a dangerous situation. Let me tell you about the 4 month old I saw at the hospital ED who had just been placed back with his birth parents over the objections of social workers.

So today's fun was yet another call from my state social worker. Again, all somber. I'm immediately thinking, this is it, A is leaving.

No. Not yet, at least.

It seems my state's (State X) legal team finally realized that State Y (birth mom's claimed state of residency) was not going to take jurisdiction of A. This is what they had been arguing for 9 months. Instead of filing an ICPC to see about placing the child with family in State Y, the state has been arguing that since birth mom was from State Y, they should just take A. Because then State Y would be paying all the bills for her care. Under an ICPC, State Y acts as social worker, "keeping an eye" on the placement, but all the bills are still paid by State X.

Remember, first and foremost, it is all about state money.

State Y had been saying no to this since day 1. State X Family Court kept ordering the issue to be pushed. But I guess in court this morning (which hello, I did have a right to be at and speak at), the final word from State Y came in. So now the court is ordering that the ICPC be filing now, so A can be sent to State Y.

Confused by the letters? Because I only have 3 more: W. T. F.

An ICPC investigating placement with family in State Y should have been done at day one.  If this is what they are going to push, it should have been done in the first 3 months, 6 months maximum. Instead we now have another 3 months wait to find out the answer on the ICPC and a nearly 14 month old child will be removed from the only family she has known. I'm not sure where this is considered int he best interest of the child.

My recovering attorney self is just raging at the stupidity of this all. The ICPC should have been filed first, A placed with family in State Y early on in the process and THEN the whole bone-head argument of jurisdiction (aka, we don't want to pay for her kthnxbye) made. I'm angry, hurt, frustrated, and furious that no one, NO ONE is looking at A to see what is best for her, never mind the foster and birth families involved. Yes, she has a guardian ad litem in all these proceedings. Who has never met her. Who sees her as a case number on a file folder. And just argues what the court wants to hear, which is that she needs to be sent to State Y.

I keep telling myself it's just a roller coaster ride. The only problem is I don't know if it is going to come to a stop and let me off gently or run out of track and bring it all crashing down.

Still here. Both of us!

I know, I know, but holy crud, my life is just too insane lately to give me a minute to post. And the biggest issue I have is not being able to share photos because seriously, they do speak volumes and I want to share this adorable smiling monkey and yet I can't. So, so frustrating to any inspiration that I have to write.

And in truth, last year was really rough. I realized as I was writing out my holiday card in December that I had done 2 years of a BSN nursing school in 11 months. With a new baby. Crap, no wonder I was exhausted!

Luckily this year the class schedule slows down a bit -- you can't do the final year any faster than 2 semesters, and summer semesters are out. So I feel like I am still on holiday even though classes have started again.

As for A., aka The Wee Bean. She is still here. Her case remains tied up in legal. Parental rights were not terminated in December, but likely will be at the 1 year mark in May. And that is where the finger crossing comes in. Because we need to get to that point with the other state still refusing to take custody of her. And for this states judge to agree to the TPR. Because what happen then, well, she gets adopted. By me. And that is so close, and yet so far. Every day is one step closer, but I know all could go differently with a single phone call. So I'm just keep holding my breath.

~*~*~*~

And on that very brief check-in, there is a crawling stinky-bottom at my feet in need of a bath and snuggle. We are fighting a pretty good cold that hit with a fever today, but seems to just be fever and snot. Hoping the weekend sets someone to rights, but peeee-yew! I need to set that tushy to rights ASAP!

December 6

A date that now has significance, and I don't know if it is better knowing, or not knowing.

I'm a mom. But not your usual mom. I'm not making long-term plans and wishes. My precious little bundle is a temporary one, and I have learned to live in the moment. I live for those evening hours where we fall asleep curled into each other, feeling her soft breath on my throat, her tiny arms stretched to reach around each side of my neck. I let myself settle in to share her pre-bed-time nap, shutting out all cares of a messy and cluttered house, and a school semester that is kicking my ass. Just these moments, these are the ones that matter. They confirm what a happy, joyous little bean she is.

She belly laughs, she smiles, she sings in an impossibly high register. She flirts, she watches, her moss-green eyes missing nothing. We giggle and talk back and forth, and most of all, we both sigh as darkness falls, and we are reunited after a day apart, able to snuggle down into each others warmth.

You can only live for the moment, because it is all so tenuous. She doesn't know this, but I do.

She doesn't know the legal craziness her case is tied up in, but I do. I shake my head, I make calls to push and advocate. I clamor to know her guardian ad litem. Words like "permanency planning" make my heart leap with a sudden excitement and hopeful possibility. Until I'm reminded things are just "routine" and have no special meaning in this case. At least not yet.

There is an army of supporters sending out prayers. And two case workers nearly as passionate as I am. They've not seen us in those sleepy evening hours as the world fades away and we just simply are to each other, but they read the effects of it. On her. On me. Even my most feeble cry of frustration and advocacy are echoed by them.

Echoed in a way I didn't expect. "When was birth-mom's last visit?" There is a sudden counting out of months to six. December 6."We will file to terminate parental rights due to abandonment on that date. She will be available to adopt."

It is kind of stunning spoken reality of my greatest hope, something I didn't think possible. So soon. Really, so soon!

Oh, it isn't without a catch, without a chance for it all to evaporate into thin air. One simple phone call from birth-mom, and that goes away, a clock resets, and we are back into limbo. So maybe it was better not knowing, being able to live in just those moments, and not thinking ahead, not worrying, not wondering what is going to happen tomorrow, did anything happen today I don't yet know about.


And you expect me to pay attention to a lecture on heart failure and EKGs.

12 weeks

And a couple days. :) But this past Wednesday marked someone's 12 week mark, and holy cow, it just amazes me how much she does for 12 weeks! Sleeps like a champ through the night (even as I grab her out of the bassinet to give her a diaper change as I head to bed at midnight-- she sleeps right through it).

Right now, she is hanging out in her jumper. Yes, a jumper at under 3 months because this girl needs to kick her legs!. So with the help of one of my crazy-thick text books under it, she is able to bounce about and get the lights and music to play and giggles herself silly. She lasts about a 1/2 hour until she exhausts herself into a sweat and needs to come out to snooze.

Which would be about now. Hold on....

Okay, we are both back now and she is intently watching my fingers on the keyboard. She loves this.

Other favorite activities these days are shoving both fists in the mouth at once. And did I mention she is a champ at peeing all over you, her and the changing table? I think she has 2 bladders. She got me the other night at the midnight diaper change, squirting up a huge fountain and soaking everything. Then just as everything was cleared away, I had her washed up and clean sleeper and diaper pulled out, she peed yet *another* fountain. I'm looking at her saying, there is no way in your big belly you have room for that much pee! And certainly not twice.

But this kid is talented. Her biggest talent though is charming everyone around her with he laugh, smile and just how stinkin' happy she is every minute of the day. Honestly, I have never met such a constantly cheerful little monkey. I've told her she's completely spoiled it for any other munchkin that has to follow in her footsteps. Not going to lie, I'm pretty spoiled right now!

I haz a purchase!

Ooooh, I got home this morning to this sitting on my porch waiting for me:

Mwahahahaha! I have been craving this stroller for months, playing this video review of it nonstop, and watching prices on eBay and Amazon and elsewhere for a steal.

Lately, talk of travel out of town with the peanut in tow finally pushed me over the edge. Plus, I think my mom was very jealous of my Snap N Go frame I had been using as compared to the G.raco travel system I picked up for her, I was hoping she would get to snag the Snap N Go.

Well, we've been playing all evening in the house with this stroller and both the peanut and I LOVE it. Worth every penny!! I don't find it heavy when folded at all -- probably because I've been toting around peanut who is approaching Brazil nut (did I mention 13 pounds on the dot at her 2 month check up which was 4 weeks ago?).

But the stroller is fabulous, she loves the seat option, loves the pram option, and damn, I'm going to have to get some kind of a social life that involves me out and about walking with this thing!

Worst mommy ever?

I feel like such a bad mommy, sitting with bebe on my lap as we cruise youtube videos of babies laughing so she can giggle, smile and kick her legs. She is so amused !

And having her giggle right now is a good thing. We have our first touch of Daycare Crud going on. Kiddo has a tendency to be stuffed up deep in the sinuses, but yesterday morning she sounded like a regular Snuffleupagus when she woke up. Unfortunately, it's all so high up, I can't even suction anything out for her. And she has the upset tummy with explosive diapers. So far I've done the steamy bathroom bit, and of course, Grandma El's on the butt. And trying to keep her upright most of the day to promote drainage and encouraging much napping. Her mood is a bit improved over yesterday when her usual fussy to full on cry fuse vanished so that we started right out in inconsolable. Poor thing was a confused by this development as she was to feeling crappy.

Oooh, we have a sneeze with snottage! We are off to see if there is more we can finally suction outta there.....