The Day Jerry (Almost) Died

So Jerry is a friend of Luke's.  Kind of.  Jerry is Luke's imaginary friend. 

Jerry gets Luke in trouble.  "Luke, let's go, you need to hurry up or you're going to miss the bus!"  "But mom, Jerry won't stop talking to me.  It's all his fault!"

Jerry is always there for Luke.  "Mom, _____ wouldn't talk to me in school today, but Jerry said not to worry about it."

Jerry lives with us.  Sometimes.  Jerry is usually here first thing in the mornings, and is sometimes in the car with us, but other times Luke will say Jerry lives by Target. 

I never make a big deal about Jerry.  I had an imaginary friend, so I get it.  My only sibling is my brother who is almost 7 years younger than me.  I grew up way out in the country without many neighbor kids to play with.  So I needed an imaginary friend.

Joe and Emma don't get it.  When Luke starts talking about Jerry, they'll giggle.  I guess they aren't creative enough to understand :)

One day not too long ago, I thought I'd find out a little more about Jerry.  Luke was talking about him and I said, "Luke, where did you meet Jerry?"  His answer:  "Duh, Jerry came home with me from Russia!"

I sat in stunned silence.  Of course.  Why hadn't I thought of that before??!! 

My son was once a 3 year old, scared little boy who left his orphanage in Russia and everything he had ever known. 

Saying goodbye to one of his caretakers as he left the orphanage - forever.

He went with 2 nice grownups who loved to play and smile and hug but didn't speak his language.  At least not very well. 

In Russia, right before coming home to the US.

They took him on an airplane - but he had no idea what it was.  On a long flight - and he had no idea where he was going.  Finally came to an airport where there were more strangers gushing over him.  Then they went to this place called home that had 2 dogs (what on earth are THEY?!?) and no other kids. 

His world was turned upside down.

What do you people do here in this place called America? 

Oh, THAT'S what this is!

Many kids who have spent time in orphanages use coping mechanisms:  rocking, swaying, food hoarding.  Luke chose to create an imaginary friend. 

Fast forward 7 years.  Luke is acclimated.  Doing great.  Used to life in a family, used to life in the US.  Doesn't speak any Russian, doesn't really remember Russia. 

But Jerry is still around. 

Until today.  Luke had a look of worry on his face.  "What's the matter, baby?"  I asked him.  "Um.  Um....  Jerry is in the hospital."
Me:  "He is?"
Joe and Emma:  giggle giggle
Luke:  "Yeah.  He has ammonia." 
Joe:  "Oh I hate it when I get ammonia."
Me:  "Stop it."  I turn to Luke:  "Jerry has pneumonia, huh?"
Luke:  "Yeah, the doctors said it's pretty bad.  He's getting all kinds of medical stuff done.  He's supposed to text me later and let me know how he is."
(Luke doesn't text...)
Luke:  "I think the phone just rang."  (It didn't.  He picks it up anyway.)
Luke:  "Hello.  Oh.  Oh.  Okay.  Thanks for calling."
Me:  "Who was it?"
Luke:  "The hospital.  Jerry died."
Luke runs to the bathroom and starts to cry.
I follow him in.  "Are you sure?
Luke:  "Yes, that's what they said."
Me:  "No, Luke, I mean are you sure you're ready to let Jerry go?"
Luke:  "What do you mean, I'm 10 now."
Me:  "I know, but you have the power to keep Jerry. If you still want him, I mean.  It's okay, even though you're 10."
Luke:  silence
Luke:  "I meant to say that the doctors said he almost died.  He's going to be okay!"

I'm sure there's something psychological here.  Not sure what.  Not sure if I handled it the right way or not.  But I do know that Jerry has gotten Luke through some of the toughest times of his life. 

Maybe Jerry won't come around as much.  Maybe Luke will realize he doesn't need Jerry anymore.  Or maybe, just maybe I wasn't quite ready to let Jerry go yet.  For as crazy as that sounds....  Afterall, he helped Luke adjust to life outside of an orphanage....

Double Digits

How did time go by so quickly??!!  I remember when you were 3, just barely to my mid-thigh, holding onto my knee and hiding behind my leg.  You could speak very little English, you had just come home from Russia - but somehow you knew every word I spoke.  They never taught you English there.  They say it was more my tone than my words.  I disagree.  Love is the universal language where you need no translators.

We have been through so much since then.  You have grown - and grown! - into my handsome little man.  You have learned so much, laughed so hard, cried at your sorrows and jumped at your joys.  You have experienced victories as well as losses, friendships and crazy school trials.   

SO much more awaits you.  You will have many more ups and downs as you continue to grow.  But I cannot wait to see the person you will grow up to be.  I know God has BIG plans for you!!

I am so proud to call you my son.  I love you more than words.  Happy Birthday, Baby!

Russia Day

Today was Russia Day in Luke's class.  I'm starting to like this teaching stuff! 

Unfortunately, I don't have any pictures.....  Not sure if things are a little different in 3rd grade, or if the content was a bit different, I don't know.  I just didn't get any pictures.  It just didn't seem as condusive to picture taking.  Not sure why.

Anyway.  Luke was a bit nervous - but I also think a bit excited! - to share with his class.  Russia and Luke have a strange relationship.  I don't think he remembers anything about it.  We talk about it and he looks at his pictures.  But he also tries to fill in the blanks a lot.  Which is to be expected, I guess.  He has no clue about his first 3 years and neither do we.  He wants to know; so he makes up stories.  I don't think this is an unusual occurance for someone in this particular situation. 

Sometimes Luke is infatuated with Russia.  Some days he practically begs me to go there for a visit.  Then other times, he is mad he was born there and wishes he wasn't and never wants to go there ever again.  Some days he will tell anyone he comes in contact with that he was born in Russia.  Other days, he gets upset if someone mentions it and says everyone makes fun of him for being born there.  Even if they don't know what Russia is - which is probably 99% of the kids at school, to be honest. 

So he wants to talk about it - but only when he wants to talk about it.  We understand that and kind of put the ball in his court.  I have never pushed him to talk about it - but I have never hidden where he came from either.  But kids are kids (Luke included) and they are fickle, if nothing else...  And so, Russia is a big mystery.  To Luke, to the kids at school - and even to us as his parents.  Yes, we were there, but no, we don't know everything about it - and we don't know how much Luke wants to or needs to know about it.

And so we take things one day at a time with this volatile relationship with Luke and Russia.

So the whole "Russia Day" thing was a bit of a stress.  He desperately wanted to do it, but was afraid of what his classmates would say.  He wanted to learn about Russia but was afraid of what he might find.  What if he liked it too much?  What if he didn't like it at all?

So I did what any mother in this situation would do:  I kept it light.

Luke's classmates know he was adopted from Russia.  He told them at the beginning of the school year. (Then he was mad at himself that he did that....)  My very first slide showed where we were in the US and where Luke was when he was in Russia.  I explained that Russia was on the complete opposite side of the world.  "It is 2:00 in the afternoon here; it is 2:00 in the middle of the night there."   "Ooooooo!!!!  COOL!" the class almost unanimously shouted.  Cool?  Really?  Luke caught my eye and decided to join me in the front of the classroom.  (I had asked him to come forward with me before I started and he desperately shook his head, 'NO!' and practically hid under his desk.)

Suddenly this Russia thing might be cool, I could sense him thinking.  Although I was standing, he pulled up a chair and sat next to me. 

I continued through the slides:  we talked about what Russians eat, how they dress, what the weather is like, what toys the kids play with, what sports they play, what holidays they celebrate, what their money looks like, a little bit of history about Russia-USSR-Russia.  Then I taught them some Russian words.  The kids LOVED repeating the words.  Luke was all smiles.

After the presentation, Luke passed out some Russian snacks and candy we had purchased at the Russian grocery store.  He was afraid no one would like it.  He was thrilled when they actually ate it.  Some kids even asked me questions.  He couldn't believe it. 

Something tells me this was more about Luke than about Russia. 

Something tells me it needed to be. 

And that's okay.  Maybe this strange relationship between Luke and Russia will start to become a little more stable. 

A not so good cook in Russia....

I think I have become a decent cook over the years.  Let's just say things taste way better than the box of hamburger helper we used to eat 15 years ago. 

I tried to cook some Russian foods to take to Luke's class.  We did a 'trial run' here for dinner.  It was terrible.  And I mean TERRIBLE.  Luke eats everything in sight - EVERYTHING - and he couldn't even swallow this food. 

I attempted to make Pelmeni, which is beef inside a dough.  It is served with melted butter and sour cream, but even those toppings couldn't make it taste good.  I was going to make Borscht - until I read what was in it.  Just about everything, all pureed together.  It sounded so unappetizing I couldn't even think about making it.  I also roasted some potatoes with mushrooms and onions, which were fine, but considering Luke isn't a big potato eater....  The meal did NOT stack up in his book.  The cucumber salad was the only saving grace, but Luke got sick of that pretty quickly too.

He warned me, "You can NOT cook this for my friends!  It will be so embarassing!"

So cookies and crackers and candy are the stars of the show.  And nothing else.  Or else!  ha ha ha.

Lost in translation

Russia day is coming up in Luke's class.  For Emma's class, I cooked some Guatemalan food for the kids to try.  I want to be able to offer the kids in Luke's class a taste of Russia as well.  So I was thrilled when my google-searching landed me on a Russian Grocery Store just an hour from here!

So I got the address, printed out a map (we still don't have a GPS, we are too old for technology around here!  ha ha!) and we headed to the store this afternoon.

I am proud to say we only got lost once - okay, twice! - but we found it.  Luke was very excited.  I was too.  We walk in and - well - it is as big as my living room. Maybe as big as my living room and dining room put together. 

There isn't much.  Not sure what I was expecting, but....  there isn't much.  Lots of bulk candy along the wall and some crackers and cookies.  Cans of stuff that I don't know what it is.  A small fridge or freezer with stuff in there but I don't know what that is either.  Not surprisingly, everything is in Russian.  We are the only ones in the store besides an old man sitting behind the counter.  I notice he is watching Russian TV.  And has a Russian magazine in front of him. 

I ask him, "Are you Russian?"  He says, "Yes."  I start my dissertation:  "My son was born in Russia, we adopted him from there.  I am doing a presentation in his school this week and I was wondering if you could give me any advice on what I could talk to the children about?"

Dead silence.  He looks at me with that Russian look.  Sorry to stereotype here, but we saw that look a LOT while we were in Russia.  Not really the "you dumb American" look, not a scowl, but not a smile either.   Just a look that makes you wonder what on earth they are thinking.

Finally he said, "You speak Russian?"
I said, "No."
He said, "He speak Russian?" and he points to Luke.
I said, "Not any more."
He said, "I speak no English." and he turned back to his TV.

So now we are left in the Russian grocery store with all Russian words on the wrappers and a Russian TV station on and a Russian magazine and a Russian man.  And not a bit of English except what we were speaking.

But we drove all that way - and got lost twice! - so we are not wasting this trip.  We start to try to figure this stuff out.  We shyed away from things that had no pictures.   So we ended up with crackers and cookies. Luke picked out a bunch of bulk candy - picked only because of the color of the wrappers. 

I finally got brave again and said, "Do you have caviar?"  I figured Luke is an adventurous eater and might like to try it.  The man said, "Caviar?"  I said, "Yes. Caviar."  He said, "Yes yes. Caviar."  He walked over to the cooler and pulled out this itty bitty container of caviar and said, "Caviar."  I said, "How much?" and he said, "$40."  I said, "Oh no.  No thank you!"

So we took our cookies and crackers and candy to the register and $40 later anyway, we walked out of the store.  But at least Luke's class will have something to try.  I have been on the internet all night trying to figure out what this stuff is....  I've got to be careful because I have a nut allergy so it's not like I can just taste this stuff.  I've been finding Russian keyboards and trying to translate....  the one candy translated:  Candy with Gusto Taste. 

Oh boy.  It might be a long night.

Guatemala Day

Emma's teacher asked me if I'd talk to the kindergartners about Guatemala. This required a bit of homework... we haven't really talked much about Guatemala since Emma has been home. She knows she's from there, but beyond that.... Well, she has become quite the little American loving American food, American traditions and the American way of life.

But I agreed. I thought this would not only be a good thing to teach to Emma's class, but it would also be good for Emma to understand where she came from, the food they eat there, and the traditions they have there.

Today was the day.

We took a few weeks to gather information - and all the "souvenirs" from when we adopted her. I contacted the woman from the adoption agency we used to adopt Emma - Guatemala is closed to adoptions now, but this woman has opened an orphanage there so I figured she'd have some information for me to use. I found way more than just information! It turns out she has a store and sells Guatemalan things that she picks up when she visits Guatemala. Bonus!

$118 later from her store (whoops!), we were ready.

Emma is in afternoon kindergarten so we spent the morning cooking. Black beans, rice, champurradas (cookies) - and the really hard part: cutting up the tortillas. ha ha. I know those poor women in Guatemala make their tortillas by hand - for every meal! - but I am glad to spend $1.50 in the grocery store for a nice package of them. ha.

When I got there, Emma was nervous. She had been so excited, but she doesn't like the lime light, so... this was a bit of a challenge. We started by saying that Emma was adopted, and did anyone know what adopted meant? One little girl knew and answered it perfectly. We then shared that Emma was from Guatemala and showed a map of where that was.

We talked about the people of Guatemala, the food in Guatemala, school in Guatemala, toys in Guatemala. We talked about the weather there (it is always spring-like!)and how many volcanoes there are there. (There are 33!) We talked about the Chicken Buses (go ahead, google it!) and the Mayan ruins. We talked about Holy Week and All Saints Day. The kids were SO good. Emma got more brave the more we talked and even told her friends some information. She passed out friendship bracelets to everyone in her class and we shared the food we made.

I have never seen her more proud.

This was such a perfect age for her to do this. She hasn't asked many questions about Guatemala. But she understands it all - and was really excited to do the research with me. The black beans, however - well, let's just say she could live without them. Me on the other hand - well, I could eat a whole bowl-full! That was a pleasant - and yummy! - surprise. I didn't think I'd like them, but Yes. I. Did. Oh yum.

(I am actually sitting here eating another plateful of them as I'm typing. Yum yum.)

I'm so glad this teacher prompted me to do this. This really was the best gift I could've given Emma. I can't imagine what it would be like to be 100% of something, but to be 100% here in America. Most of us Americans are a little bit of this and a little bit of that. Emma was so excited to discover who she is - and then to share that with her friends.

She had a bit of a crying spell this morning as we were getting ready. She tried the black beans and did not like them. At all. In fact, they made her gag. She started to cry and said, "We can't take these to school, all of my friends will hate them!" I told her I loved them and she said, "Nu-uh, you have to be lying." I ate a big spoonful of them right in front of her, licking my lips - and she stood there in disbelief. She asked me if I was going to *make* her friends eat them. I assured her I wouldn't do that. But once she saw that some of her friends actually liked them... well, she was so darn proud. Too funny.

Emma being nervous...

Sharing the friendship bracelets. Man, were they hard to tie! Especially with 17 little arms in my face all at once!

Her friends trying the new food. They did a great job trying it. Some tried it and didn't like it. Some tried it and liked it. I was impressed they even tried! One little boy was so excited, he cleaned his whole plate and said he wanted to live in Guatemala just for the food. Too funny!


Next up: Russia. Luke is doing a social studies unit in May that compares and contrasts Russian schools to American schools. His teacher said Luke & I can supplement the lesson.

I hope he is just as proud.

It's the eggs' fault

This morning Emma asked for eggs for breakfast. As I was making the eggs, she said, "I just want normal eggs, not scrambled up eggs."

I was not prepared for what came next.

"______ (the girl we fostered, who shall remain anonymous to protect her identity) loved scrambled up eggs, do remember you'd make those for her?"

We have not talked about the foster kids for a LONG time. And I mean long. I was really surprised she mentioned her. "Yes, I remember", I answered as I kept facing the stove, I didn't want to turn around and look in her eyes. Not sure why. It was just an awkward moment.

Not for Emma. She went on and on - and ON! - about the foster kids. "Remember when the baby did this? Remember when she did this? Remember when we did this together?"

For 15 minutes. I am not exaggerating. Of course by this point, I could no longer face the stove or those eggs would've been COOKED. I made her eggs, my eggs, and we had both eaten - and she was STILL talking about them.

Not sure why it made me so uncomfortable. I mean, it's not like we pretend like they don't exist. We don't forget that they were here. We just don't talk about them. We don't discourage the kids from talking about them - when they feel like talking, we let them talk. I've even brought them up when talking with Joe. Usually I bring them up out of the blue, too. It is all still so raw, so confusing as to what we went through.....

For almost 7 months now, we have all tried to process what was, what is, and what is yet to come. We know they weren't meant to be a part of our family. We know we were called to care for them for a short time. We also know that we never set out with that mindset. When we met those kids exactly 1 year ago, we met them thinking we'd be adopting them. When we brought them to our home for the visits, we did so with the intent to adopt them. We would have never "just" fostered, because we thought it would be too hard on all of us.

Life is full of surprises.

So while cooking those eggs this morning... For some reason, with every ounce of my being I just wanted to pretend like none of it had happened. And she wouldn't stop. I didn't tell her to, of course. But she just wouldn't stop.

And then the zinger. "So mommy, when we take care of different kids next time, I think I will be more responsible. I don't think I was very responsible with her because I wasn't always nice to her."

The next time????!!!!!!

Joe and I have talked extensively over the past few months. We're done. 2 kids is good. Perfect, actually. Just the other day while we were signing up for hockey, I actually said, "I'm glad we only have 2 so we can afford to let them do things like this." We are good financially. Really good. Joe is just a teacher, but we are doing fine. We are comfortable. Our house is perfect for 4. We've got our routine down and the kids have a great relationship. We have discovered contentment with our existing family. We're planning a huge garage sale in the spring to sell all of the stuff our kids have grown out of since we won't be needing it anymore. Not to mention we all fit nicely into a cruise cabin :)

But Emma's statement hit me like a ton of bricks. What if there is supposed to be a next time and we've closed off our minds to that??

Are we meant to foster more kids?

I can't get Russia out of my heart. I can't. Would I love to go back and adopt a toddler there? Maybe. Some days, definitely. There are days when I really am in love with that idea.

But then I look around at my content little life and my content little house and I'm not so sure.

I'm never making eggs ever again.

Closure. In the Most Unexpected Way.

God certainly likes to surprise me. Not even 24 hours after I was struggling so badly with whether or not we did the right thing, I got closure. Finally. I can now put this all behind me with no regrets.

I found a pair of the little girl's sandals in Emma's toybox. I had no idea if she would need them or not. We are almost out of sandal season, but - if she was still with her mom, I figured she might need them. But if she was with an adoptive family, I figured she wouldn't need them. So yesterday, I e-mailed our social worker to ask if she wanted me to send them to her.

The response I got surprised me:

You can toss the sandals. Things are better in the mom’s world, which trickles down to the kids.

My mind went nuts. Is the mom going to keep them? So I e-mailed back and asked if she was. Then I walked away from the computer and went to take a shower.

While in the shower, a thought popped into my head. 'Maybe she was never going to give them up for adoption after all. Maybe the kids needed to come here so she could get herself back together so she could care for the kids again. Maybe the reason we had to say no was so that we didn't say yes - and then have them taken from us. Maybe God was protecting our family - while helping the kids and their mom.'

I had NEVER thought about things from that perspective before. My thoughts have always centered around, 'What will happen to the kids? Did we let them down? Did we make the right decision for them - and for us?'

Just as I had that new thought, a sunbeam came through the skylight in the bathroom. Not an unusual occurance - BUT - yesterday was a rainy, dreary day. I hadn't seen the sun before then - and I didn't see it again for HOURS after that.

Just a simple, glorious sunbeam. Kind of like a God smile.

At that moment, I said outloud, "I don't know why this all had to happen, God, but you do. You know."

Later I checked my e-mail again. The social worker's response:
Only God knows.

Wow.

Honestly, I could 'what if' this situation all day long. Believe me, I have - for 6 weeks now. But whether I was given some sort of insight - or whether that smiling sunbeam was just to let me know that God IS taking care of us, and things DID have to happen the way that they did, and we ARE under His protection - I'll never know.

But I do know that God does hear our prayers, and answers them in the most unexpected ways.

Walking with God is never what I expect.

But it is definitely always so much more than I could ever imagine.

It's been 6 weeks

Six weeks ago, we took the kids we fostered back to the adoption agency. On one hand, it seems like a lifetime ago. On the other hand, it's hard to believe it has been 6 weeks already.

I still think about them. A lot. Mainly, I wonder if we did the right thing. I keep telling myself that we did. Joe keeps assuring me that we did. Emma said to me not too long ago, "Mommy, can I tell you something? Don't get mad. I didn't like her. At all. I'm glad she's gone." Luke hasn't asked about them. I have barely talked with our social worker about them. Not too many people have asked how we're doing. Our family has ignored the subject altogether.

It's almost like someone got a big giant eraser and just got rid of the whole situation.

But then my memories remind me that it really did happen.

There really were 2 kids here. Two kids who had no hope and no future in their situation. They came here hopeful to find that future. We accepted them, hopeful to find our future as well.

Then all those dreams came crashing down when we realized it wasn't going to work out. It just couldn't work out.

Could it?

I push the rewind and play buttons a lot in my mind. I go over and over the situation. Sometimes I replay the good times. Sometimes I replay the bad times. Sometimes I think about how we felt. Sometimes I think about how the kids must've felt. Sometimes I just think about their little faces.

I find myself wondering if things could've been different. Were things meant to be different??? Did we give up too soon? Or was this fully orchestrated by God - every last detail from beginning to end - and we played the part we were supposed to play in these kids' lives?

I am really struggling.

Regret is a terrible thing to feel. Not being sure of something is unsettling. Sometimes feeling like a very real situation in our lives never even happened is unnerving.

But when I stop - really stop - I sense peace. I really do. And then I feel guilty about that. Will they have the luxury of that peace too? Will they get that hope and future they so desperately deserve?

The last I heard, they were back with their mom. She was considering placing them with another family, but was having a hard time transtioning her thoughts to a new family. I have no idea if they are still with her or are with a new family. I'm trying not to preoccupy my time with wondering where they are. But it's hard not to wonder... It's hard not to worry....

Life twists and turns and takes me to places I'd never expect to go. If I hadn't gone to the college I went to, I never would've met Joe. If we had gotten pregnant, we never would've adopted Luke and Emma. If we hadn't met these 2 children, I never would've prayed for them.

I guess I don't give prayer enough credit. Admittedly, sometimes I think of it as a last resort.

Perhaps in this case, it will be the only resort. To pray for them - and to settle me. What more could I ask for right now than prayer? Nothing. I can think of nothing better.

And so I will continue to pray. And trust. And have faith. Even when I don't have any understanding of what happened in my erased past.

Guilt

I've really been feeling a lot of guilt the past few days. I've been thinking about the kids a lot.... I'm wondering if we could've made it work....

I'm remembering the glimpses of sanity we had while the kids were here and I'm expanding on those in my mind. How long would the transition have taken? Would things have been normal? Good even? We all really liked the idea of it all, could we have turned that idea into reality?

For awhile I was feeling guilt about what would happen to them. Where would they end up? Would they be okay?

But now that guilt is turned onto - me. Did we give up too soon? Did we take the easy road? Did we show the 4 year old that she really can't trust adults and no one is really there for her??? Did we show Luke and Emma that when the going gets tough, you just walk away???

I was looking at pictures I took. There really were some pictures where there was pure joy on all 4 kids' faces. Did we give up all that future joy?? Did we allow a few days of hell to distract us from what was meant to be?

I look at Luke. I see a "success story" with him. I can't imagine our lives without him. I saw a lot of similarities between him and the little girl. Granted, he was NEVER violent towards anyone. Yes, he was an angry, confused child when we first adopted him. But he never hurt anyone. Could she have gotten past her anger and confusion too?

Emma had a terrible behavior day today. When she and I were talking about the importance of making good decisions, she said, "So when she comes back again I can show her what it's like to make good decisions?" I reminded Emma that she's not coming back. She looked surprised. We've only been through this how many times. She said, "Why couldn't we have just taken care of them, mommy?"

Oh. Good. Grief. GUILT.

Life would be great without regrets. But with life, you just don't know what could've been. I'm not sure I can say I regret our decision - I still think we made the right decision for everyone involved.

I'm 99% sure of that.

But there is that 1% that is kind of haunting me right now. Ugh.

My kids are finally asking questions

Oddly, Luke and Emma haven't asked much about the other two that were here. After we said goodbye, Luke and I had a moment of a few tears and hugs as we watched them drive away. Joe and Emma hide their emotions much better than we do - but I'm sure they were a bit teary as well.

They literally seemed to forget about them in about 5 minutes.

Instead of having a depressing mood, we decided to set the tone to be as positive as possible when we said goodbye. The night before they left, we had a going away party without really calling it that. We took them to TJMaxx and let them pick out a few outfits and toys. Then we came home and had ice cream, then we sang songs, and then we had movie night with popcorn. We wanted to celebrate that they were here - but we also wanted to say goodbye in a positive way.

When we met the social worker, there was no lengthy goodbye. In fact, the social worker was trying to push it along rather quickly - we did have to slow things down a bit. Everyone hugged and a few tears were shed, but it really wasn't a negative experience.

We explained to Luke and Emma that they couldn't stay with us. I think they got it. They saw the havoc that was being wrecked. But there was still that part of them that wished it could work out.

We all had that little part in us.

After we dropped them off, we had a fun family day. We went to the park and went out to lunch. Luke actually thanked me. "Thank you, mommy, for wanting to take care of us first. I love you! They'll be okay, right?" as he hugged me super-tight.

Fast forward a week and a half and things are getting back to normal. I've finally put away all the baby stuff. There's really no "evidence" left that we had two more kids here. And yet - finally - the questions are starting.

Luke just asked me, "Mommy, do you think she and Emma will get along better the next time we see them?" I answered, "Honey, we're not going to see them anymore." "Oh...like never?" "Yes honey, never." "Oh...Not even for a visit?" "No baby." "Oh...Well, do you think someone else will take care of them then? Maybe someone who doesn't have kids can take care of them because she couldn't get along with me and Emma, right?"

Emma didn't hear this conversation between Luke and I, but she also brought it up. We were in Target and she wanted to buy the baby some clothes. I reminded her we won't see them anymore. She pretty much asked the same questions Luke did. Later she said, "What happened to them before they came to our house?" I said, "What do you mean, sweetheart?" She said, "I mean, why did their mom decide she didn't want them anymore? And how come she decided that?"

I explained to her that I think their mom just wanted a better life for them. That she realized that she couldn't do a good job taking care of them and wanted to find someone who could do a good job.

"Do all birthmothers do that?" she innocently asked.

Oh boy. The conversation suddenly got deep with my 5 year old.

And so I explained that most birthmothers keep their children. I explained that her birthmother wanted a better life for her. "Luke's too?" she asked. "Yes, Luke's too." "Why aren't you a birthmother, mommy?" "I don't know, sweetheart, but I am your mommy now." "I know, mommy. Thank you!" Then she asked if our friend was the birthmother to her dogs. HA!

Thank God for humor in the middle of deep conversations.

I do think the kids get it. I really do. For as much as any of us can really grasp what has happened here.

If nothing else, this has certainly given me a glimpse into the mind of birthmothers. I now know what it's like to walk away and never see children again - all for the sake of wanting what's best for them - and for us.

I could never wrap my head around it before. I barely can now.

It is all still so surreal....

It's been a week and a half...

It's hard to believe the kids were here just a week and a half ago. It seems much longer ago. The last 11 days have been really long. I've been thinking a LOT. I've been praying a LOT. And I've been confused. A LOT.

I know we made the right decision for our family. I know that. But a part of me can't help but wonder, "What if..."

The past 6 months we have been preparing ourselves that these kids could be a part of our family. It was a long - and CRAZY! - road. But we moved forward in faith, despite all the craziness encountered. I was always afraid that we may not see them again. I thought their mom would change her mind.

I never thought we would.

If I hadn't lived through it myself, I never would've understood it. Never. Not much of this journey makes sense. Why did the mom go to our adoption agency and pick us? Why did all 4 kids have a supernatural bond the first time they met? Why did we continue to pursue the adoption if it wasn't meant to happen? Why did the mom disappear - and come back! - so many times if it wasn't meant to be? Why did things always feel so natural when we were all together - until this last time? Why did I have dreams that it did work out - and then have dreams that it didn't?

Why? Why? Why?

I am an anayltical person by nature. I am constantly asking why and trying to figure things out. This has thrown me for a loop. I just don't get it.

All along, we have said we didn't know if we were being called for a moment or a lifetime with these kids. Obviously, we were meant for a moment. We can only hope that this moment wasn't wasted.

I do believe with all of my heart that we WERE called for this moment. I don't know why. But I trust that God does. It's driving me nuts that I don't get it. But that's part of faith. Trusting even when things don't make sense.

And while I question if this moment was wasted, deep down in my heart I know it wasn't. We serve a God that knows what He's doing. No doubt.

I've been all over the map emotionally. I've been grateful that God directed us so clearly. I'm thankful that Joe never waivered in his decision and was able to stand firm to protect our family. I've been sad, glad, regretful, hopeful, guilt-ridden, unashamed, emotionally drained and emotionally lifted - sometimes all at one time.

Having adopted twice before, we "just knew" that Luke and Emma were meant to be our children. We didn't feel that way with these kids. Yes, we loved them. Yes, we cared for them. Yes, we opened our hearts, our family, and our future to them.

But once we spent all those days together, we realized we felt more like babysitters than parents. And quite frankly, we don't want to babysit for the rest of our lives - we want to be parents.

Quite often in my life, things don't turn out the way I expected or imagined. So many times throughout this journey, we were thrown twists and turns. I can't say that anything over the last 6 months would've been what I expected or imagined. And certainly, this isn't the ending I was expecting.

But God promises that despite circumstances, He works for the good of those who love Him. I believe that. I know that. And I trust that.

And for that, I am grateful.

It was the best of times. It was the worst of times.

We had an 11 day visit with the kids. Some moments were pure joy. Most moments were pure hell.

We had more time with them this visit than we had combined with the previous visits. It was devastating to watch the 4 year old girl get out of her honeymoon stage with us. She started wrecking havoc quickly. We were expecting it - poor behavior is "text book" behavior for children who are in this position.

And understandably so. We have been confused and scared over the past almost 6 months as we emotionally sort through this. Are these our children? Would their mom change her mind? It was hard for Joe and I as adults to process all this. How much harder it must be for a child.

We had first hand experience with this text book behavior. We adopted Luke when he was 3. We witnessed a lot with Luke when we first adopted him. So we were expecting it this time as well.

But not to this extent.

She punched Emma in the face, kicked her in her mouth, and shoved her into her into her closet with so much brute force that toys came flying off the shelves. She kicked the dogs. She'd scream any time Luke and Emma tried to communicate with the baby, "He hates you, stop talking to him!" We told our kids to walk away when she started screaming and crying. It didn't work. She'd chase them with her arms flailing - still screaming - to try to tackle them down to get them to do what she wanted.

We were exhausted.

There was always someone crying. We couldn't pull her out of her fits because we had to do damage control instead. We couldn't give anyone what they needed because we felt spread way too thin.

It was devastating.

We really wanted to do it - and we tried. Wow, did we try. We tried until we exhausted ourselves. We prayed. We talked with each other and with friends and family we trust. We talked with our pastor. We talked with another adoption agency who adopts kids out of the foster system and then works with them post-adoption. And then we prayed some more.

Joe's answer was clear. Mine was not.

He knew we couldn't adopt these kids. He knew we had to protect our exisiting family. He knew she needed more than we could give her. He knew that our kids needed more than we were giving them. He knew we needed to protect our marriage.

I knew all that too. But my emotions couldn't kick off.

We have grown to love these kids. We were imagining our lives with them, as a part of our family. I saw glimpses of normal that melted my heart. I took all 4 kids shopping - by myself! - I could handle this logistics stuff. The baby was a gem, and even the 4 year old had her moments of joy. I knew that when we got past her transition period that everything would be okay, just like it was with Luke.

Except sometimes, everything doesn't turn out okay.

Right in the middle of all this, I received an e-mail from a friend who is STILL struggling with post-adoption issues with her son 3 1/2 years later. He never "got over it". Love hasn't been enough for their family, and I couldn't help but wonder if it wouldn't be enough for our family either.

"At what cost?" I started asking myself. A quick look around our home showed me what this visit had done to all of us. We had lost our joy. Luke and Emma were crying and stressed out. Joe looked more exhausted than I had ever seen him before. And when I looked in the mirror, I saw an emotional wreck.

So while poor behavior is expected in this situation, we could not handle the phsyical or emotional harm. We had to protect what has already been given to us - we had to protect Luke and Emma. And our marriage. And our family.

And so we called the adoption agency and told them we could not adopt them.

At what cost? I have guilt about what will happen to them. All I can do is pray that God will protect them. That wasn't meant to be my job. I was not meant to be their mom.

It really was devastating to admit that. We really were in love with the idea of it all. But we are thankful that this visit was so telling, that God was able to guide us so clearly to a decision that is best for our family.

I don't know why we have been on this road for so many months to end up here - at the end of this road, surrendering the kids back to the adoption agency. (No, they weren't legally ours yet.) But I do know that we were called to just a moment with these children... and not a lifetime. And whatever reason that moment was for - well, we are trusting that God had a purpose and that purpose was fulfilled by our obedience to His call. Even if we don't know what that purpose was - He does.

And that takes away the hurt. That hurt is replaced with His peace, the peace that passes all understanding.

We don't often know where we're going - but we know Who we are following. We place our trust in His promises in His Word as we allow Him to guide our steps:

Joshua 1:9
...Be strong and courageous. Do not be terrified; do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go.

Proverbs 3:5-6
Trust in the LORD with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways acknowledge him, and he will make your paths straight.

Proverbs 19:21
Many are the plans in a man's heart, but it is the LORD's purpose that prevails.


This road might not have been easy or what we expected. But we thank God that He never left us to navigate this journey on our own.

Thank you, Jesus. Joy and peace are already back in our home.

They're here

The kids are here. We are a week into a 10 day visit. Things are different this time. I am emotionally exhausted and we are definitely getting a glimpse of what life would be like with a traumatized 4 year old. Wow. She is pulling out all the stops. The baby is a gem. He is too young to have any of this affect him I guess. She has some serious issues to work through. Which we knew having already adopted a 3 year old. We've been-there-done-that. However, when we did that, we didn't have other kids to worry about. And we were 5 years younger.

This poor child. To have been through who knows what in her short 4 years. She didn't ask for - or deserve - any of this. In many ways, she acts like a teenager. In other ways, she acts younger than her age. Overall, I think she needs to be regressed and given the chance to start her childhood over, with a clean slate.

I'm not sure we're the people to do that.

But maybe we are.

When God calls, he calls the ordinary to do extraordinary things. Moses had a speech problem - and God called him to be a speaker. Noah was really old when he started building the ark. (Imagine how those knees must've ached!) Mary was a simple, unmarried girl who said yes to being the mother of Jesus. Paul was a dirty little sinner who hated Jesus and he ended up writing the majority of the New Testament.

Not sure what God is calling us to do with these children. Maybe it is what we have already done. Reach out to them and plant a seed. Maybe it is more than that. Since we are not sure, we are praying for a clear direction.

Crystal clear, please.

The visit that didn't happen

We were supposed to have the kids for a week long visit this week. All was well, until I met the social worker on Monday. The kids were with her, they were ready to come to my house. Luke and Emma were ready for a visit too.

And then I saw it. L-I-C-E. Ugh.

We knew they had it, I found them at the end of their visit here last week. I have been crazy all week. I mean CRA-ZY. We have done treatments just in case, I have scrubbed, vacuumed, bagged, tried every home remedy possible, and I've been combing through Emma and my hair like it's been nobody's business.

Thankfully, we have been spared. My head will never forgive me, but I don't care.

Unfortunately, the other kids are completely covered. How sad. Devastating, actually.

I have googled my brains out this week. The good news is - lice isn't a death sentence. They honestly pose no threat, they're just a nuisance. Not sure that I believe that, but that's what the experts in Google Land say.

I am now an expert on the life cycle of lice. Not something I ever wanted to add to my resume.

I guess we were fortunate to know we could've been infected before that life cycle exploded on our heads. Because we did the treatment right away, I'm sure we caught anything that could've been.

The other two kids aren't as fortunate. Their mom said she treated them - twice - and didn't know why they weren't clean. When our social worker asked more questions, it turns out she has no vacuum and no laundry facilities so she can't stop the problem. No matter how clean a head is - if you lay back down on the same pillow, the cycle starts all over again.

Our old pillows are in the garbage. She can't afford new pillows. Even if she could, she has no way to wash the pillow cases every night in hot water and dry them on high heat for at least 20 minutes. Yes... I said I am now a lice expert.

So after we found the lice, the social worker tried treating them. It wasn't working out so well. We went to a hair salon. Silly me, I thought they could treat us all and we could move on with our visit. Nope. That's against the law. Of course it is. But there was an extra nice stylist who put on some disposable gloves (different ones for each of us) and dug through our heads. Outside. She confirmed that Luke, Emma, and I were clean - but the other 2 were infested. She freaked out mildly and said, "You cannot have these kids interacting, the other 2 will be infested in no time flat."

And so we stood there in the parking lot wondering what to do. Part of me knew I couldn't bring them home. I knew I couldn't purposely throw Luke and Emma in harm's way.

But the other part of me just wanted to take them home, clean them up and make everything all better.

The social worker put them back in her van, apologized and said she promised she'd clean them up the next time they come. But she had to take them back home.

All 3 kids start to cry. (The baby was of course clueless.) They're all begging for this visit to happen. We tried to explain we would see each other again and we just couldn't visit right now. But they were all sad and confused.

I was too. And since everyone else was crying, I joined in.

It was the hardest thing I ever had to do. How could putting the key in the ignition, turning it, and putting the van in reverse be so hard? I could see her little face behind the tinted window of the social's worker's van. It was pressed up against the glass and she was waving like crazy.

My kids were crying, pushing their faces up against our glass, and waving back.

I was just trying to figure out how to get the tears gone so I could actually see out of my sunglasses. No wonder that stupid van wouldn't go in reverse. I couldn't even see reverse.

So now we wait. Again. I guess we should be getting good at this waiting thing by now. But somehow it still isn't easy...

Yes, the social worker could've had them cleaned up and ready to go again within a few days, but we are coming up on our vacation so we took the precaution to postpone another interaction until after we get back. I really didn't want to take lice with us on vacation. And I REALLY need a vacation.

I'm looking forward to frilly drinks in a big fishbowl-sized glass while enjoying the white sand and swimming with dolphins.

Sounds like heaven right about now.

Logistics - check!

We had the kids again this weekend - well, for an extended weekend. We had them for 5 days this time. It was nice to see them again! We picked up right where we left off - in fact, it was much better this time. I guess we've gotten used to each other just a bit. Things were a little more familiar than the first visit we had together. For all of us.

Managing 4 kids was actually pretty easy. Joe joked that we had to play zone defense instead of man-to-man. I am honestly surprised how easy it was - dare I say it: it felt natural and quite normal. Neither of us felt overwhelmed.

Yes, there are still some kinks that need to be worked out. Yes, we still need more time to be sure. And yes, nothing is a done deal - on either side. But logistically, this is definitely doable.

We are thankful for the time we had together. And we are thankful that things are becoming a bit clearer.

The mom has already agreed to another visit next week. We'll see if that actually happens. I was expecting her to disappear again. But she told the social worker she is interested in moving forward. We shall see.

More time together would definitely be a good thing. That could offer more clarity. And seeing clearly when making life-changing decisions is a good thing. A very good thing.

And so we still move forward in faith... not knowing what tomorrow holds, but knowing the Holder of tomorrow.

I honestly can't wait to see where this is all going. There has already been so many blessings along the way. Regardless of what the end result is - we have already seen some purpose in this journey.

Sometimes it's not about where you're going, but how you get there....

She's back

The mom and the kids showed up at the adoption agency again. She is ready to move forward with her adoption plan. Again.

We used to get excited when the adoption agency would call with this news, but now we are a bit jaded because of her disappearing acts. If only we could look around the corner!

But since we are blinded to tomorrow, we take things one step at a time. In faith, we move forward. Not knowing where we are going - but knowing Who we are following.

The Holder of tomorrow is also the Holder of our hearts, and so we can take that step, even if we have no clue where the path will lead us. God knows what tomorrow will bring - and that's what matters most. We trust Him. We know He doesn't make mistakes. Even when things look all messed up, we know He is still working. We don't know what He is working on, but trust that He is using this situation for good, no matter how it ends up.

And we know that in all things, God works for the good of those who love Him - Romans 8:28

And so another visit has been set up. For this weekend. An extended weekend, actually. We should have the kids from Friday through Tuesday. During this time, we'll love on the kids and share our family life with them.

These types of visits are encouraged by the State with older child foster/adoptions. I suppose it gives us all a taste of what could be. The mom can see if she can really do this - and so can we. Ideally, these visits would have happened all along, but with her disappearing acts that has been impossible to do.

Nothing is set in stone yet. She still needs to decide. So do we. We all want what's best for the kids - for all 4 kids. We are weighing very heavily how bringing two more kids into our family will affect Luke and Emma. She is weighing very heavily what is best for her and the kids. The social workers have their input as well. No one is being forced to do anything that isn't 100% agreed upon by all parties.

We will all take as long as we need to make this life-changing decision. No matter what tomorrow holds, there are a lot of things to consider for everyone. We have had lots of thoughts, prayers, conversations and tears through all this.

And so we hold onto our faith, thankful this decision isn't just up to us humans! God's going to get us all in the "right place" for the best decision to be made. For all of us.

And that is the one thing I am 100% sure of.

Can you hear it?

I think I just heard a pin drop.

Things have been quiet. Really quiet. Not a peep from the kids' mom. I have no idea if she's changed her mind or if she'll be back again. The adoption agency sent her a letter and now we wait to see when - if - she contacts them again.

Sometimes silence is deafening.

Deja vu all over again

It's been a quiet week. The adoption agency hasn't heard a peep from the kids' mom. This is quite typical - we've been here before. She moves forward with her adoption plan, things begin to progress, and then we don't hear from her for awhile.

So I'm not surprised we're here again, even though this was the most the adoption plan had ever progressed.

The adoption agency tried to call her this week and they got a message that she was out of minutes for her cell phone. So they went to her apartment - twice - and she wasn't home. So now their only option is to send a certified letter.

In this final attempt to contact her, they are going to ask her if she's changed her mind with her adoption plan. If she has - I just wish she'd tell us instead of just disappearing. It's been an emotional roller coaster of not knowing what tomorrow will bring.

I know it's been an emotional roller coaster for her, too. This is difficult no matter how you look at it.

I have a peace that what is meant to happen, will. I don't know what that is - but God does. Despite the free will God has given us all, His plans ultimately prevail. And He already knows the plans He has for these kids, for their mom, and for us.

God never makes mistakes. And for that, I am eternally grateful.

A Mother's Day to Remember

I'm usually not one to get all gaga about holidays. I used to - but Joe's not one to go over the top with these things. So I've gotten used to the more low key side of holidays. But this year - God had a BIG surprise in store for my Mother's Day celebration.

My Mother's Day was doubly blessed. We had the joy of fostering two children this weekend. Now joy and fostering are not two words that I ever thought to put together. Neither have I ever thought that word would be put to practice in this house. I always thought it would be too hard on the kids (and us) to bring a child into our family and then to let that child go away again.

But God is full of surprises! He never fails to knock my socks off - and life is never quite what I expect. Ironically, it's always better than I imagine. Way better.

Let me back up. 15 months ago, we decided to pursue newborn adoption. Here in the United States this time. Adopting here is way different than adopting internationally. Adopting internationally is a matter of WHEN. Adopting here is a matter of IF. There are no guarantees we'd ever get a baby. Typically, the birthmother chooses adoptive families and if we never got chosen - well, we'd never get chosen.

So there was no point in telling people we were adopting again since it might never happen.

4 months ago, our adoption agency called. We had been chosen! But wait. It wasn't a pregnancy situation. They have never had this situation before - there was a mother who was thinking of placing her 4 year old and her less than 1 year old for adoption. She wasn't sure she could do it, but she wanted to talk with us. Were we open to this?

We said we were - we are always firm believers that God will shut doors - so we moved forward in faith. I talked with her on the phone and we made arrangements for us all to meet.

It was very awkward. When we first met Luke and Emma, they were ready to be adopted. When we met these kids, they were with their mom. There really are no words to describe it all.

After that initial meeting, we met a few more times. Then they disappeared. The mom wasn't showing up for her appointments and wasn't returning the adoption agency's calls. We all assumed she changed her mind. We weren't surprised, which is why we didn't tell many people about our "plans" - we just didn't think it would happen. And then when it didn't happen, we were glad we hadn't told many people. Kind of like an adoption miscarriage, I guess.

We thought the door had closed.

But then she came back. Weeks later, she came back. She surprised everyone. We never thought we'd hear from her again. But she walked right back into the adoption agency saying she wanted to go through with the adoption. So the legal ball started rolling again.

But then she disappeared again.

Last week, she showed up again. She again told the adoption agency she wanted to move forward with the adoption again. So the adoption agency suggested a foster care arrangement, where we could both see if this might work.

And this time she didn't walk away. 3 days after she came back to the adoption agency, we went to the agency - and our lives changed forever. She kissed them goodbye and we buckled them into carseats in our van, took them home, and fostered them this past weekend.

Our lives will never be the same.

These children are troubled children. Their mom is doing the best she can, but she is single and is stuck in a cycle of poverty and missed opportunity. She admits that herself. She loves them but wants a better life for them, which is why she struggles so much with this decision.

But all those troubles aside, we took them in and loved them this weekend. We shared our family with them, we tucked them in at night, and I even kissed a boo-boo. We got a few hugs and a few smiles. We had some conflict and we had some joy. We had some confusion and we had some peace.

It was amazing.

Now they are back with their mom and I can't imagine what she is thinking. This has got to be very hard for her.

I don't know what we're thinking either. Yes, we have taken ourselves to the place where this could turn into a potential adoption for us. The kids all got along amazingly. Luke and Emma miss them like crazy already. Don't get me wrong - there were some issues that will need to be worked out as we all get adjusted. But the instant bond they all shared was really something. Having 4 wasn't as hard as I thought it would be. We honestly had a lot of fun!

But then the other side of me wonders - could we do this? Could we bring these children into our family? How difficult would the adjustment period be? How will two more kids impact Luke and Emma? They are our first priority since they are already here - we've got to protect them first and foremost.

Not to mention what their mom is thinking. Could she really walk away and place their futures in our hands??

This is all very complicated emotionally.

But I am so thrilled to have had this opportunity - even if it was only for a moment.

And God will definitely let us know if it is meant to be a lifetime.

In the meantime, I am having sweet memories of the pittar patter of 8 little feet around here. These cute stinky yummy little feet.



And I'm wondering if Emma's room will ever be the same again. ha.