Anti-Climactic.

 

 

As anxious as I was about the trial on Thursday…

They only got through half of the witnesses, so they had to set another day to finish the trial.  I’m not even totally convinced that we’ll get done that day either.  Talk about emotionally exhausting.

The next open day that the judge had was May 1st – so now we wait for another 7 weeks, and then go back for another day of testimonies and questioning.

They actually called me to the stand during the trial, and I am also going to be put on the witness list for day two as well.  It would have completely and totally freaked me out if I didn’t have experience testifying as a caseworker.  Attorneys are absolutely more intimidating when you’re the one on the stand.  I wasn’t really nervous this time.  They hadn’t even told me I was going to be asked to testify, so they couldn’t even have expected me to be prepared.  I just figured I’d answer what I could answer, and tell them they were out of luck otherwise.  (In different terms, of course.)  I did appreciate that they found my testimony worth hearing and questioning though.  Typically, foster parent’s opinions and ideas are treated as completely worthless – so I was happy to have been questioned.

The bummer about being on the witness list is that you are sequestered from the courtroom and other witnesses prior to your testimony.  I got to sit in after I testified, but prior to that I had to sit outside with Vida.  I expect it will be the same way on day two.

Only once were we barraged with snarky comments from their family members.  With a few choice words thrown in we got, “These people should be ashamed of themselves!” and “They better know that those girls will never love them like they love their mom and dad!”  Along with lots of glares and evil eyes.  I understand.  It was a hard day for them, harder than it was for me.  I’d be mad too – and a lot of people are under the impression that foster parents have something to do with the legal proceedings.  Of course, that’s laughable, as a foster parent.

After my testimony, Mom and Dad actually came up to me and thanked me.  They said that they appreciated that I was honest, and that was all they could ask of me.  They said thank you for taking care of their girls and for caring enough to be there.

Wow.

Was. Not. Expecting. That.

But I appreciated it greatly.  And it also showed me that they know we aren’t against them, we are just for whatever is best for the girls.  It showed that our efforts to support reunification have not gone unnoticed.  It showed that regardless of the horrible situation that links us, a relationship was feasible.  I was so thankful for that.

Anyway.  We’ll wait, and wonder, and pray.

Can’t give up.

 

 

  Tomorrow is a big day. 

We’ve had a lot of those lately.  Bella had her last chemo appointment on Monday, and will officially be off all chemo meds as of the 22nd!  Very.  Very.  Exciting.

  But tomorrow is even bigger.

  Tomorrow we will go to court and listen to everyone on the case testify.  We will see the good and the bad, and we will listen as a judge determines whether or not to terminate the parental rights of Bella and Tootaw’s mom and dad.

  When I think about it, I feel like vomiting. 

I know in my mind what, at this point, is best for the girls.  I know they need closure.  I know they need to be able to heal.  I know that they need their childhoods released from the anxiety of being in foster care.  But no matter what happens tomorrow, there is pain, there is loss, there is brokenness.  It is possible, and likely, that we will go to the court hearing tomorrow and sit with the mother and father of our sweet girls – and that when we leave they will no longer have any of the rights associated with being parents. 

  They won’t get to decide what their kids have for dinner.

  They won’t get to watch Bella graduate from Kindergarten.

  He won’t walk them down the isle. 

  She won’t sing them to sleep.

  There is hurt.  There is pain.  There is loss.  Loss that is at the start of every adoption.  Loss that will never be erased.  I hurt so much for our girls and for the pain they will have to work through.  For the loss that will follow them through life no matter how well we love them.

 

  We took their mom out to lunch with us on Monday to give her some more time with the girls.  It’s so easy to detach ourselves from the situation and to talk ad nauseum about all the things they aren’t doing, all the times they let them down, how there is no way it could ever work.

  But when I am with her, when I identify with her as a person, as a mother, as a person broken and in need of a savior -

I want so badly for it to work.

  I want it to get better.  I want to paint smiles on all of their faces and mend their broken hearts.  I want to fix the brokenness that this world has to offer and for goodness sake, see us all as we will be on the other side of this life.

  I think of how I have been changed by unrelenting love.  None of us is perfect, none of us get it all right, we are all broken, and we all mess up.  I think of how my heart has been redeemed by a savior that loves me no matter what – an unlikely redemption, a heart changed forever.

And I just can’t let myself give up.

  I can’t give up on her.  Not until the judge has declared it final.  Even if, and probably when, her rights are terminated tomorrow, I won’t give up.  I will still pray for her heart to find it’s way out of the brokenness and wreckage that it is in.  Out of the hard places that life has taken her.  Out of difficult circumstances that poor choices have left her in.

  I hope we will be able to maintain contact to some degree at least.  Because I can’t give it up.

 

  Simultaneously I am so looking forward to it being over.  I am looking forward to working toward healing with the girls without anything to take us backwards.  I can’t wait to finally work toward being a true and legal forever family that nothing can erase.  I’m looking forward to the redemption that adoption implicitly brings.  To kiss the girls goodnight knowing that I will kiss them goodnight every night until they are grown, and that then I will worry about them every day until I die.

 

If you could be praying for tomorrow, I would so appreciate it.  That whatever is truly in the best interest of the girls is what happens and that we would trust no matter what happens.  And also that we are able to figure out some way to maintain contact with their parents if rights are terminated.  Pray.  pray.  pray.

Snow Days.

 

Lots of snow means…

Lots of snowman building…

 

 

 

Lots of watching the beauty of winter…

 

Lots of sledding…

 

 

 

Some crafting to keep away the cabin fever (baby blankets for their baby dolls.)…

 

Lots of sledding…

 

Lots of breaks for hot chocolate and snow ice cream…

 

Lots of sledding…

 

 

 

And lots of snuggling this sweet girl inside where it was warm!

 

2 Months.

 

  Well Vi, these two months have flown by.  Really.  How have you been here for that long?  I think you’ve gotten used to the insanity that is our house, our family.  You aren’t fazed by the shrieks and squeals that pierce our ears every 30 seconds or so.  You aren’t upset by smothering sister kisses, or even when one of them manages to try to move you in the 5 seconds that I’m not looking.  You just roll with it.  That’s a good attitude to have around here, where the bumps in the road are more frequent than average for a little one like you.

 

You’re pretty good at holding your head up already, and you’re making your best effort to start rolling over – I give it a week or two.  You’re in a hurry to get moving with all these sisters of yours.

You give smiles very generously, which melts this mama’s heart.  Your sisters love it when they can talk to you and get a smile – they are so in love with you.  You are cooing and making baby noises.  Adorable. 

 

 

 

 

At our six week post partum appointment, you already weighed 11 pounds 10 ounces!!! You like to eat, so it shouldn’t be any surprise. But holy cow!

These are pictures of you with our midwife, Debbie.  She loves you, and she prayed for you the whole time you were in my belly.  Not to mention she worked her midwife magic to get you out of my belly.  She is wonderful.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Smiling for Grandma Debbie.

 

 

 

 

You are delightful.  If you’re awake, you like to be held by your Mommy.  On my shoulder.  With both hands.  (Maybe you’ll be picky?)  You nap well, although yesterday you were up from 11:00 a.m. to 8:00 p.m., and you let me lay you down while you sleep.  But who wants to do that?  You are so snuggly and I am soaking up every little cuddle you give me.

 

Your sisters love you.  They sing to you when you cry, they try to give you your pacifier, and they snuggle you so much I’m kind of surprised I get any snuggles at all.  Naomi gets a little jealous of you when you nurse or need to be held, but loves you anyway.  When I lay down with Sylvia to put her to bed at night, most often she doesn’t even want to snuggle me, she wants you in between us so that she can snuggle you while we read stories.  I’m a little jealous, but that’s ok.  You sleep with me at night, which is one of my favorite parts of the day – I can understand why Sylvie likes to snuggle you so much.

 

Meeting Aunt Jennifer!

 

I love you more than you know, little baby.  I think a lot about what you will be like when you are Naomi’s age or Sylvia’s age.  I can’t wait to see, but I like you just the size you are now.  You are my Vida, and I am so blessed to be your Mommy.  As Sylvia would say, “You are the best Vida in the whole wuld.” 

 

I love you, love you, love you,

                           Mama

How do I do it?

 

 

  I get that a lot, with having five kids ages five and under.  In the grocery store, at church, from the other moms at Bella’s school, everywhere I go, I hear, “I just don’t know how you do it!” “I struggle and I only have two!”  “How do you do it?  You must be exhausted!”

Well, I am exhausted.  But that’s not my secret.

If I had the time to stop and talk with the women who comment on how I get it all done, my answer would be something like this:

 

I don’t.  I don’t do it.  It’s not me.  Not at all.

Let me explain.

 

  Today I kid swapped with one of my friends, and we watched each other’s kids at the church.  I watched her kids in the morning, and she watched mine in the afternoon, and that way we each got time to get things done around the house.

  Except after watching the kiddos in the morning, I came home excited to get some cleaning done, and I walked into a completely clean house.  (I actually walked in the door and thought to myself, ‘I don’t remember leaving the kitchen this clean!’)  As it turns out, my friend Shawna, who I kid swapped with, was in on this plan of getting me out of the house this morning.  While I was gone, one of my other friends, Katherine, and my kids’ beloved children’s director at church, Ms. Judy, came and cleaned my house.  Also, another one of my friends, Valerie, wanted to help but had to work, so she sent over enough food to feed an army (which is essentially what we have). 

  Simultaneously, I also have another woman from church who offered to bring us dinner tonight.  And another friend at church who offered to watch my kids this morning for me.  And Bella is playing at the house of her friend from church, who’s parents take and pick Bella up from school.

  We have friends that watch our kids while I take Bella to treatment.  We have a church that pours into our family.  We have family that supports us when we tell them that yes, God is calling us to something even crazier.

 

  How do I do it?  I am part of a family.  A wonderful church family.  And in our family, we love each other, and we do it well. 

  We love each other because we were loved first.  We serve each other because we were served first.  We share in each others burdens because He carries ours.  And it is only because of our brothers and sisters in Jesus that we are able to serve in the way we do.

  But this is not a story of other people secretly doing my housework or randomly bringing this crazy family meals.  This is a story of God’s provision for two broken people who are trying to serve Him.  There have been many times since Bella, and also since Tootaw, came to our house that I have thought, and said, “I don’t know how I’m going to do this.  I can’t do this.  This is too much.  I am too little.  The cancer treatment.  The fetal alcohol syndrome.  The system’s flaws.  Loving these children well.  Getting it all done.  I am not enough.”   To which Jesus replies,

“You are right.  You cannot do this.  You are too finite.  The task is too large.  You grow weary.  The race is very long.  But I am your God, I am your friend, and I am your provider.  I am not finite.  The task is not too large for me. 

And here’s the thing:  You cannot do this on your own, but you are not in this alone, I am with you.  And you can struggle in your flesh, or you can trust me. When you trust me, I will provide for you in ways that you cannot orchestrate on your own.  This is where I have called you, and I will not leave you here alone.”

 

And I am filled with peace. 

He will provide for us in ways we cannot orchestrate.  Like SIX separate individuals from our church family all choosing to serve us undeservedly on the same day.  Loving us tangibly.  Smothering us in grace.

 

So there you have it.

There’s my secret.

The beginning of the end.

 

 

Bella had a hospital appointment today where she got a lumbar puncture and very heavy chemo treatment.

 

For the last time.

 

wait.  wait, let me type that again.  It feels so good.

 

For the last time.

 

Over two years of treatment.  Over a year and a half of it with us.

 

The last time that my sweet girl has to be brave while they put a needle in her spine.  This is the last week that she has to follow up a heavy treatment with strong steroids that change her entire personality.  This is the last time that she has to get nervous before going to the hospital.  This is the last time that her treatment will make her feel really awful. 

I’m crying typing this.  I’m not a crier. 

I am just so thankful.

She is so brave.  She has been so brave.

But I don’t want her to have to be brave anymore.  I want her to be able to be five years old.  I want the hospital to be somewhere we only have to go when her sister sticks gum wrappers up her nose.  I don’t want her to have to take ungodly amounts of medicine every night.  I want her to feel good.  I want her to be free to be five.

And this is the beginning.

One month from today is her last appointment where she will be on chemo (home administered.).  After that we’ll have follow up appointments, but no more meds.  One less thing for her to be worried about, for her to have to think about, to weigh on her little mind that is so much older than her five years should allow.

One month and three days from today is the trial.  We are hoping and praying that this trial frees her and Tootaw from foster care.  Frees them to heal.  Frees them from anxiety and worry.  To just let them be.

 

This is the beginning.  The beginning of the end.

 

Thank you Jesus.  For so long the light at the end of the tunnel seemed so far away.  Life does not always look the way we want it to, and even then He is our rock.  But this time it does.

He is our healer.  He has healed.

He is our provider.  He has provided.

Thank you Jesus.

Thank you Jesus.

 

And check out that hair.  She literally has the most beautiful hair I’ve ever seen.  Thick.  Shiny.  Wavy.  Rightly so.

 

You spoke and made the sunrise, to light up the very first day
You breathed across the water, and started the very first wave
It was You
You introduced Your glory, to every living creature on earth
And they started singing, the first song to ever be heard
They sang for You
You make all things new
You make all things new
Then the world was broken, fallen and battered and scarred
You took the hopeless, the life, wasted, ruined and marred
And made it new
You make all things new
You make all things new
You redeem and You transform
You renew and You restore
You make all things new
You make all things new
And forever we will watch and worship You
You turn winter into spring
You take every living thing
And You breathe Your breath of life into it over and over again
You made the sunrise, day after day after day
But there's a morning coming, when old things will all pass away
And everyone will see
You make all things new
You make all things new
Come redeem and come transform
Come renew and come restore
You make all things new
You make all things new
And forever we will watch and worship You
Now and forever You are making all things new
You're making all things new
Hallelujah...

Horn Creek–Have I mentioned this before?

 

 

I know I make a plug for Horn Creek at least once a year, but we just signed up yesterday and I’m so excited that I can’t help it!

Horn Creek is a family camp in the Sangre De Cristo Mountains in Colorado.  They have several weeks of family camp throughout the year.  Camp is one week long, you stay in cabins, hang out with your family and other families for the week.  And someone else cooks for you all week.

 

 

 

  Besides the whole broken arm thing, we had such a great time last year.  Bowling, food I didn’t cook, horseback riding, hiking, swimming, food I didn’t cook, playground, fellowship with other foster and adoptive families, climbing wall, western night, and food I didn’t cook.  Did I mention that the food is good, and someone else cooks it?

  For the last three years the have had a week that is specifically for foster and adoptive families.  This is my favorite part of Horn Creek.  It is so nice to spend a week with other families who have experienced fostering or adopting – and it’s also so nice not to stick out like a sore thumb!  Most of the families there are large families, too, so we don’t even get weird looks while people count the number of small children following us around.

  Anyway, it’s really wonderful.

Last year we actually got to meet and get to know a family who we had previously only known in the blog world!  It was fun to meet each other in person.  We’ve gotten to know several families there that we keep in touch with throughout the year.

 

  Let me know if you have any questions about the camp.  The last three years the foster and adoptive week has completely filled up – so sign up soon if you want to go!  I’ve also heard rumors that they are going to set up a second week if it fills up and there is still interest…  You should come.  Really.

 

  Ok, I’ll be done now.