This November is different

November is my favorite month.  I love it because life begins to slow as we're in a solid rhythm of daily school life.  At the same time we begin to look forward to the holidays, baking some things to stash in the freezer for when friends and family come to visit.  I get to go on little Christmas shoping dates with each of my boys.  It always warms my heart to see them pick out gifts for each other and to hear the reasons behind each gift.  I love sitting with a cup of tea looking at the snow that covers the brown world around us, like a big blanket promising a fresh future to come, it gives my heart rest.  For years we have had a "thankful tree" the branches with lights wrapped around them where notes of thanksgiving are hung.  I love making soups and chili's and cozy fires.  I adore November.  Even still this November is different.  My eyes are open a bit wider to the world around us then in past years.  This November, a teenager has to spend Thanksgiving in the hospital, quite possibly without any visitors, a baby girl will spend her first Thanksgiving without her Momma, and a toddler has no idea the direction of his life just changed forever.

At 3 o'clock this morning I was in a deep sleep when my phone rang.  I laid there staring at the caller ID knowing why they were calling.  I let it go to voicemail, I knew if I answered the phone I would soon be answering my door.  I needed more time to think.  As I watched "DHHS" flash on the screen I began thinking through all that I needed to do this week, thinking through what it would mean if I said yes to more kids, wondering if they had lice and bedbugs, where would I sleep them and the family coming to visit, how could I manage appointments for them and my babe on this holiday week?  I've done holiday "placements" before, they have to see a pediatrician, dentist, and have an eye exam done, the caseworkers and GAL needs to come to my house do a walk through, talk with the kids and give me what little information they have.  I will need to go buy a whole new wardrobe, today, because they will arrive with only the clothes they have on, court will happen within 72 hours, and I will meet the parents lawyers and all involved at what's called a "Family team meeting", visits will be set up, the schools need to know.  The rules say it all has to happen in the first ten days, no exceptions. This week I already had to move multiple appointments and still had to keep the appointments with the caseworkers and GAL's I'm already involved with, plus we had doctors appointment scheduled, visits and then the normal family stuff-Lesson plans and school, replacing broken dishwashers, scouts, beds to make, and food to buy.  In between each practical thought I wondered most of all could I give them enough hugs or were my arms already full?  I listened to the voicemail.  A brother and sister, the same age as two of my kids needed a home.  I thought some more.  They had just been pulled from their beds, and ripped from the only family they ever knew, as broken as it was those people belonged to them, their hearts were scared and hurting.  Now in the middle of the night they sat on uncomfortable chairs in a state office building, with wall paper pealing, and a throw blanket covering them.  When what they really wanted was their favorite stuffy that lay somewhere back at home because they had no time to get it.  My kids were asleep, safely tucked into bed leaving my arms empty for a few hours.  I have a squishy couch they could curl up on with their heads in my lap as they cry themselves to sleep. I could rub their hair telling them everything was going to be okay, that they were loved and wanted.  My heart broke for them.  I hardly slept after that.

Four hours later the call came again.  The caseworker had gone through the list of foster families with no answer, so with no other options she began again.  Those kids spent the night on those chairs in that cold building.  Still she searches.  Their aren't enough homes.  My heart says yes bring them, but my brain knows my arms are full.  This November as I sit back and watch my kids do normal kids stuff, my heart quietly prays for the hearts that will find themselves with strangers, and I hope that more healthy families will step into the chaos and pain of these beautiful souls.

...Admonish the unruly, encourage the fainthearted, help the weak, be patient with everyone.  See that no one repays another with evil for evil, but always seek after that which is good for one another and all people.  Rejoice always; pray without ceasing; in everything give thanks; for this is God's will for you in Jesus Christ.

~ Paul, friend of Jesus

Thank you for walking with me

Let's walk a bit.  This path is steep and rock covered, but I think we'll do fine... I have taken in hearts that miss their Momma deeply.  I have loved ones that hide in their room with the door open getting to know us from afar.  Ones that are used to words and fists being hurled at them as they waited for us to do the same, afraid we were too good to be true.  I have held ones that tremble and wail as toxins leave their small body.  I can't even put into words some of the torture and abuse they have gone through, it makes my stomach turn just thinking about it. Life would be so much easier if I didn't know.  I have tended their wounds and hearts.  I have been up late into the night with each of them and I have cried heavy deep sobs as we've said goodbye to some.  I have cried for the pain and fear I see in their eyes and for the pain and fear I have felt myself as their cases take wild turns.  I've been excited to give hope to kids and to make them apart of our family.  Watching them accomplish milestones or conquering school tests has brought my heart the deepest joy I know.  Listening to them tell stories and dream big dreams has been good for my soul.  Giving them normal life experiences and then sitting back and taking in how safe they feel and look being with us.  The highs and lows of this path is extreme.

Now this very minute I am worn down.  My heart is tender, but these hearts are brave, strong survivors.  If they can keep fighting then so can I.  They need somebody to be their voice, to kiss their ouchies, snuggle them to sleep and to love them in a way they have never known.  You have chosen to walk this path with me, thank you.  Thank you for your words, and your prayers.  Thank you for your hands that have held my babies, that have held me.  Thank you for cleaning my house and cooking meals.  Thank you for visiting me in our hospital stays, for getting thrown up on, and for daring to be near us when we were contagious.  Thank you for taking my big ones on adventures and for babysitting while I go to countless appointments.  Thank you for trusting me enough to silently invest into strangers simply because I shared a need.  You have encouraged me with your generosity and time.  You have helped me to see at times that this journey we walk is as hard as I feel it to be and that it's okay to feel beaten down.  You have shown me that it's okay to ask for help.  You have been a strong wall to my family, and some of you I have never even met.  I cannot express how grateful I am to you.

As you've helped and watched us get excited about wins and cry from broken hearts I would encourage you to keep doing what you are doing.  Keep loving orphans and hurting families.  These kids need us.  They need a voice, they need love, they need a family.  You've walked with me, you know it can't be done alone.  As our lives slow for a bit you should find others, keep giving, keep loving, and keep showing up.  You are amazing at what you do. Thank you for walking beside me.  You are a gift that I cherish.  When the time comes I know I can ask you to walk with me again.  Thank you.

Saying goodbye

We have fallen head over heals in love with a sweet baby girl.  She's perfect with red hair, blue eyes, itty-bitty-tiny, sleeping almost completely through the night.  She is the easiest baby I have ever cared for.  Strong man bonded with her first.  Her whole face lights up to his voice.  He puts her to bed every night and makes fun of my swaddling skills the few times I've done it.  He sings to her in the night.  He loves her fiercely.  My boys adore her holding her, feeding her, walking with her when she fusses.  Man of the woods can put her into a deep sleep faster then any of us.  Laughter begs to hold her and sometimes will wake her just so he can grab some snuggles.  Our Happy one is her favorite person.  It was him that she gave her first smile to.  My boys have fully given their hearts to her.  Even though for weeks we've talked about how she will not always be with us.  I'm proud of them for doing it anyway.  They know the hurt that comes with a foster love leaving.  They know the tears, the grief.  Still, they have loved her hard.

I have made sure she has extra formula, diapers, wipes.  I've done her laundry, packed her bags and am constantly looking for pink that I may have forgotten.  She's everywhere, in my cabinets, and bathroom, in my bedroom, the toy room, and living room, my car, she is one of us, one of mine.  I have made a scrapbook of her ten weeks with us so she'll never forget that she was loved from the very beginning.  I have written letters to her to read in the future, to her Momma so she knows that her baby was well loved and will know all of her firsts, and to her new family so they will know her routines, likes and dislikes, upcoming appointments and how deeply we loved her.  I have crawled into bed snuggled into my husband's chest and sobbed.  I have cried for my loss, more for the loss my children are about to experience, but most of all for the loss that she is about to go through.  Ten weeks.  Her whole life.  On Monday she will go to a new place full of new voices, new hands, new smells, new heart beats, new routines, new snuggles, nothing will be the same and she will do it all alone.  My heart hurts that I can't protect her from this pain.  I wish I was enough.  I wish that I could do more.  I wish that we weren't having to part ways...  As I type the tears flow, words cannot describe the pain, fear, hope and love we have for this girl.

With each child I pray for them specifically.  For her I pray that she would find Grace and Love.  At ten weeks she, the most perfect baby girl, is going to her second foster home.  I pray that they love and value her as deeply as we did.  I pray that as the years pass and she grow into a women then she find true Love and that she will know that Grace is all she needs.  Even though her and I part ways she will always have my heart and she will always be prayed for.

To those who were in my house on Saturday,

You who played with my children, cleaned my house, took care of my yard, and pre-made meals for my family, thank you.  Please don't take those two words with a shrug because what you did was nothing short of being the hands and feet of Jesus.  Think about that thought for a moment - Jesus, God-man, the Word, the creator of the Heavens and the Earth, the great rescuer... You did what he lived.  You were being like God himself, following the beat of his heart.  That is not to be taken lightly.  That is a miracle, you are a miracle.

A few years ago as a family we sat down asking ourselves what is the most basic way to be like Jesus.  As we read the Bible we kept seeing the recurring theme going from the prophets who never met Jesus, to Jesus himself and then to his friends which was to help those who need help.  Isaiah the prophet said, "To feed the hungry and help those in trouble.." (Isaiah 58:10).  Jesus said, "Whatever you did for the least of these you did for me." (Matt. 25:40)  James said, "That pure religion is taking care of orphans and widows in their affliction" (James 1:27) These are my three favorite, but over and over we see this theme of helping the weak and needy.  As a family we decided to embark on a journey to help other families.  Knowing that our hearts would break we brought in children and have fully given ourselves to love them.  Not only do we feed and clothe them, but we sing them to sleep when they are sick and snuggle them when they get hurt or just because we love to snuggle them.  While we're feeding them late into the night we pray that some day we can give them back to the ones who birthed them.  We pray that the most beautiful story of all can happen that these small ones we love can be reunited, because isn't that the story of the Bible?  Where humans are separated from our maker and Jesus comes to reunify us.  There is no story more beautiful then this one.  So we decided to dive in and love children, and parents alike so that they can know this same love.

It sounds good on paper, but in real life it is the hardest task I've ever taken on.  Not only as you saw do I get behind with the practical stuff like hands and knees floor scrubbing, but emotionally to love a child as your own knowing that someday you'll say goodbye.  It is not natural yet that is what we have chosen to do.  I give parents my number and tell them to text anytime.  I write notes and send pictures so that they don't have any gaps in the photo albums.  I've even had professional photos done of the kids, and I give gifts of the child's hand prints on Mother's day.  I want to see these parents win.  We don't know what will happen with the kids that have come and gone from our home.  Until a judge decides we have no idea the future and so we love.  My hope is that they reunite with their parents and that we get to be like an aunt and uncle to them, and if they can't reunite that we will be able to give them our last name.  Honestly I have spent the last nine months wearing these words, "No fear in love" on my wrist and will soon have them tattooed there because this kind of love is scary. (1 John 4:18)

Sometimes it's good to get away just with my husband.  Sometimes it's good to have a day without appointments.  Sometimes it's good to just be me.  This weekend you allowed me to do that.  While you loved on my children and helped in practical ways we ate a hot meal without sharing a single bite.  We held hands and sat by the ocean as we talked about life and watched the ducks swim by.  We made jokes and laughed at each other.  We talked about the upcoming school year and what the fall would bring.  It was good and needed.  Our spirits were refreshed.

You have now been added to our story, and these kids stories where miracle after miracle happens.  Where God shows himself over and over in our lives.  Where true life giving love happens.  Where ordinary people, sometimes even strangers, show up just following the heart of Jesus.  So you friend, thank you for saying yes, for showing up, and for loving all the hearts I love.  Your gift will not be forgotten.

One

To my Happy one,

Today you are one.  You have changed my life and my perspective on the world.  You have taught me to love fully expecting nothing back.  The first time I laid eyes on you the room was dark and you were alone sleeping in the hospital bassinet I knew then you were amazing and I would love you fiercely.  That first day home you slept right near me, but still I'd check on you often. Over the next few weeks you and I, we learned each other.  You learned my heart beat and I learned your cries.  Together we fought to grow, and grow you did, born in the 3% to now in high 80's.  Already in just one year I'm proud of who you are and the sweet boy you are becoming.

My prayer for you this year is that you continue to grow and overcome some hard things, but most of all that you never lose your joy.  I pray that you always find the happiness that is in life even when it's hard.  That as you fall down with wobbly legs you laugh it off and as you experience new things you do it without fear.  You are beautiful and wonderfully made.  I hope the whole world can see your joy and happiness like I can.  I hope that as you grow into a man over the years you learn to use it as a tool to love others.  We have so many unknowns in our future.  Where ever the future takes us I promise you I will always love and pray for you.  You will always be one of mine.  I love you sweet boy.

I'm thankful for:
~ Your kisses and early morning caresses.
~ Your wiggle hugs.
~ The way your eyes light up when you see the big boys.
~ The way you get excited when you hear our Strong man's voice when he gets home from work.
~ The way you get excited about PJ masks, even giving them kisses when you can.
~ How happy you are to go to bed at night.
~ Your love for water.
~ How the guitar calms you.
~ Your love for Ben Rector and teddy grahams.
~ The way your eyes light up when you see babies.

Five days in

I love the idea of scrap booking, but the reality is I am a busy Momma.  Just yesterday I took four tired and hungry kids to a 5:45 pm appointment all by myself, and somehow we survived.  Anyway, I try instead to capture one moment a day to remember and every once in a while I throw in a blog post to remember a lesson learned.  Most often they are fun, sweet memories, and sometimes it's obvious that I'm frazzled because well that's real life.  Five days into being a Momma of four here's what I'm learning and remembering.  I'm remembering that me before kids used to sweep the ceilings in my house weekly.  Everything and I mean everything had it's place.  I'm remembering that I like the quiet and I have my space.

Here's what I'm learning... Again:  This morning for the third morning in a row my two babes made sure that I was up and at 'em no later then 2:30 AM.  At six as my boy was pooping and crying, it's a traumatic experience for him, Strong man stumbled into the room to see if I needed any help and asked when my day had started.  When he heard 2:30 he told me to grab a nap before he left for work.  He's good like that.  I fell into bed with a tear or two rolling down my face from exhaustion and slept deep for the next hour before he left.

Grateful for the nap and ready to start the day as he left I have since been peed on once, had my boy laughing so hard while he was eating that I ended up wearing some of his food.  Talked to caseworkers, and a GAL, played outside, and watched my boy crawl from one end of the living room to the other, began making a mental list of what needs to be baby proofed, laughed hard with my big ones, and I have showered.  Currently both babes are sleeping, and I'm surveying the damage done to the house. 

I love it.  All of it.  The messy, crazy chaos.  I have a shelf of school stuff that hasn't been put away yet.  Schools been done for almost two months.  I have a pile of laundry that hasn't been touched since last week because between becoming a new Momma of four, all the crazy foster love appointments, and that 4.5 hour trip to the ER last weekend I simply haven't had time.  The big ones have booby-trapped the back room and all by himself my new to crawling one has destroyed the living room.

Still even in all of it this is life.  Hearts are growing and learning to love.  Lives are being changed and molded to be great men and to be a healthy girl.  I will take this life over a quiet, clean organized house any day, because, my heart and their hearts, we need each other.

The pain in all the excitement

Foster care is a strange thing.  Most Momma's have nine months to "nest", they get to slowly move into each phase of childhood, but with foster care everything happens fast.  Sometimes in minutes and other times in just a few hours.  This time I have had an evening and one full day to prepare for our newest love, as well as an ER visit with a big boy, a need to keep some cub scout commitments to my biggest one, and somehow I snuck away for a cake pop with my banged up eight year old.  It has been a full day.

I laid out pink and bows while the boys were buzzing about the idea of a girl coming home tomorrow.  The babes stuffed animals were moved to a shelf so the bassinet could once again hold a baby.  My room needed to be organized and groceries still need to be bought because we need easy, easy fast meals.  I checked to make sure the baby monitors still worked.  As I walked by I heard things being said, "Can you believe we're going to have a girl?", "Buddy, you are not going to be the baby tomorrow.  You are going to be a big brother.", "Life sure is going to be different in the house."  When it was bed time the big ones had a hard time drifting to sleep because the electricity was strong with the idea of a new one.  As I folded the clothes that await her and packed her diaper bag my mind kept drifting to her Momma.

The baby girl coming home with me tomorrow is her baby who only she knows.  She knows when her first kick was and how strong she is.  She knows how often she gets the hiccups.  She knows her sleeping patterns and if she's a wiggly little thing.  Her body hurts from all the work it spent growing a new life these last nine months.  It hurts right now for her just to pee and her chest feels as though it's going to explode.  As hard as it was for her to sleep with a watermelon sized belly it's just as hard now to sleep without it. Every fiber of her being cries out that she is a Momma!...Yet she knows tomorrow, at least for a time, the two will have to say goodbye.

My heart breaks.  It was never meant to be this way.

I don't know her story or even her name, but I know she's hurting.  Any Momma would hurt.  Tomorrow if she wants to meet with me I will not only say hello, but I will ask her about baby girls birth because every birth story needs to be told and heard.  I will ask if she has nicknames picked out, or favorite colors to dress baby girl in, or stories to share with her before bed.  I will give her my phone number and tell her to text any time.  I will promise to love her baby fully until she can do it herself.

When I get home I will snuggle baby girl talking constantly so she can learn my voice, because she will know it is not her Momma's voice and my heart beat will not yet be her safe place.  I will tell her all that I learned from her Momma.  I will tell her it's okay to miss her and that I will snuggle her as much as she needs.  When she cries out in the middle of the night simply because she is afraid I will hold her close and tell her she is loved.