Quick Notes

At some point last week, I don't remember what prompted it, but it felt compelled to write. And yesterday, after a visit with the Bean's case worker I stumbled upon the note again and the words still rang true. Anyway, I thought I'd share my rambling note.  The thoughts are incomplete and nothing about this note screams well thought out or planned. This is a sincere piece that I poured my heart out into & I thought I'd give you a little glimpse into our foster care journey:

The truth is: I live most days with grief already in my heart. The Bean has grown on me. So much so, that he is as much a part of me as John John is. And Little Miss?  Well, the minute I laid eyes on her my heart was taken. With Duckie, I never felt that connection. I wanted to. But it wasn't there. 

With The Bean, I am okay with the unknown. He has been a toss up since day one. We have no idea I he'll stay or if he'll go. Either way, we will rejoice in the outcome. His mama loves him so much. And so do we. Wherever he goes, he's gonna be okay. But the thought of losing him. The thought of saying goodbye. My heart physically aches & even as I write this, tears fall. 

And with Little Miss, when they presented her case to us they led us to believe that she will need a forever home. And for now, that fact still seems to be true. But, it's foster care & things can change in an instant. And in an instant, she could leave. If they take her away, my heart will never be the same. If they take her away, I'm not sure I can rejoice. 

And yet, here we are. Loving two babies who do not belong to us. Here we are, rocking, feeding, cuddling and loving two babies who may not stay. 

We knew going into fostering that we must hold all the children in this home with open hands. We would embrace the present, pray for the future and allow God's will to be done without us fighting Him every step of the way. But, I can't lie. I want to fight. I want to close my hands over these children. I want my fists to be so tightly clenched that my knuckles turn white. I want my way. And my way means they stay. 

I guess that's the way foster care is though. Some babies come home for a short amount of time and then they're gone. Some you connect with and love and some you don't have that connection but you love anyway. Because love is what they really need. Some babies stay forever. And in our babies cases, some babies you have no idea which way the tide will turn. 

So we pray.  We pray honestly what we want. The Lord already knows where our heart is, so there seems no harm in sharing it aloud to Him. But, at the end of the day, we must say "but, Your will be done...and help us to sincerely want only what You have"

Ward of the Court

About a week ago I received an email from The Bean's case worker.  His mama had gone to court and received her official case plan.  She said The Bean would be staying with us for awhile since the judge ruled he stay in care while the case plan was worked. She said that The a Bean is officially a ward of the court. Ward of the court.  Those words, that title, that status....it hit my heart like a ton of bricks and I felt the air knock out of me.  Yes, I realize things like that must exists. We must know where a child stands, so they must receive crappy statuses.  But my boy is so much more than a ward of the court. And it's been bugging me since the day we received that email that "ward of the court" is a descriptor used to describe this precious little boy.
 So I've decided to tell you exactly what he is. And to tell him as well.  He may never read this because he may not stay here forever. But, it needs to all be said:

Baby Bean,

Your mama received her case plan the other day.  She's already working hard to show she can care & provide for you.  Although I can't say for sure that you'll return home to her, I can say that you are so loved and wanted by her.  You are her whole world. 

Upon receipt of her plan, you became a ward of the court....but that's such a minor detail of your life.  I mean, I guess it's not.  Your time in foster care may eventually help define & shape your whole personhood.  And that is understandable.  But, I hope you take hard situations like being a foster child, and see the positive in all things.  Like, the fact that your mama has time to get well.  That's a positive thing. And that you got a big brother out of all of this....that's another positive thing.  There is a lot to look at from different angles and I hope you see the blessings in them all. I hope you see His love for you, His provision & His protection over you throughout your entire time as "ward of the court."

But, I'm also here to tell you what else you are. You are ward of the court, but that's not the first thing I'd use to describe you. I think I'd start with stubborn.  Oh boy, little bean.  You are a baby with determination.  If you cry, you stick to it.  If you whine, you don't give in.  If you laugh...well, everything is hilarious to you.  Right now, your stubbornness makes you one challenging baby.  But, one day, stubborn can also be described as determination & drive.  That same stubborn streak in you that has you determined to crawl will be the same stubborn streak in you that had you determined to do well in life.  I'd also use the word serious to describe you.  You don't laugh often.  Although we know your giggle-triggers, you smile and you're generally a happy guy, you are more on the serious side.  I can just look at you and see those wheels in your head turning. You seem to always be thinking about something. You seem to always be pondering. Your eyebrows crease and your forehead gets wrinkled and I know you are methodically taking in the world around you.  You are a thinker.  I can tell already you are going to be smart. Much of what you do now shows that. You are very much aware of cause and effect and you learn and grow from your mistakes.  You are a pain in the butt between 6 & 7 pm every night. Yep, I said it.  Pain in the butt.  For that one hour, the one where your tired but not tired enough for bedtime and that you know you bottle is coming and sweet dreams await you, you turn into cranky-bean and it's the most difficult hour of my day. You are peaceful. Once you fall asleep, or once you find a pretty ray of light to stare at, or watch your big brother John, the brows unfurrow and your face conveys calm. You are all of a sudden content and your dreamy eyes show it. You are loud. You are handsome.  You are strong, and so very loved. 

Baby Bean, no matter what the world tries to define you as, we pray you always know that first and foremost, and above all else, you are a child of God.  You are made in His image. You are pursued by the Creator.  You are His, and He loves you unconditionally.

Hello & Goodbye to Duckie

I didn't even have time to tell you.  It happened so quickly.  A little over one week ago we received a call from the foster care placement team. 

"Hi, Mrs. O'Brien. We have a two year old boy here needing a home.  Are you interested?"

We got the details.  We had very little to go on.  They had very little to share. It was his first time being removed from his home.  I was just driving home from a visitation with the Bean & his mom so when I finally arrive back home I blurt out to poor Matthew that we need to bring another baby home.  We only had 30 minutes to decide.  And at minute 29, Matt said to call them and bring this boy home. 

Less than 24 hours later I was at the children's home waiting to meet our newest addition.  When I walked in to the toddler room a woman grabbed my hand and thanked me for taking this babe. She said he'd been crying & whining since the moment he got in.  He was just so sad.  He wouldn't accept comfort from anybody. He had older siblings and missed them like crazy. He was A MESS. But they picked him up & walked him over to me, I smiled & said hello and he all but threw himself in my arms. He stopped whining. He buried his head in my neck & there he stayed for the rest of my time in the toddler room as we completed paperwork and talking details. 

But, before I left, I knelt down to a seven year old boy.  I said hello and he looked over at me and then at his little brother in my arms. 

"Hey buddy, I'm Ashley. I'm gonna take your little brother home with me for awhile. I promise I will take good care of him and I promise you'll see him very soon.  Ok?"

He looked scared & he nodded.

"Ok, if you have any questions or wanna know how your brother is doing just ask the helpers. But, I promise. You are all gonna be okay."

He nodded.

I stood up with the baby in my arms and walked out the door leaving his brother behind.

Baby fell asleep almost as soon as I put him in the car seat. He clung to a photo of him and his brother and snored lightly. So I cried. I cried HARD.  No amount of training can prepare a heart for doing hard things like that. 

When we arrived home, baby Duckie slowly stopped clinging to me and slowly started to warm up to Matthew, John, the Bean & Mo.  Then he discovered the toy box!  He slowly inspected each item inside. Turned it over and over.  Smiled. Looked over at us and would exclaim "LOOK!  LOOK!"

To make an already long story short, poor Duckie really struggled. He constantly needed attention. And not just us looking at a toy, but us cradling, rocking, holding and loving.  Generally, that would be awesome considering John John will barely stop for a high five.  But, we physically were unable to nurture Duckie with two other babies in the house needing diapers, food, etc.  For two days he constantly needed food.  I think he was comfort eating. If we left a room he'd have a panic attack.  His eyes would open wide with fear and he'd FREAK OUT.  By day three he started to settle and trust us.  We could leave a room and rather than freak out, he'd follow. He became my little shadow. He stopped needing to emotional-eat and started to eat and snack on a regular schedule. 

But the other problems with Duckie continued to worsen. He was a sweet boy. But, he also really struggled. We spoke to the case worker at length regarding this sweet boy and agreed it could be months of his issues to be resolved. We spoke about that and wondered if we would be the right place for Duckie. We have two other tiny demanding people in our home. Can we meet his demands?  We wanted to, but could we?  Could he really thrive here?  Can we teach him healthy habits and pour out love on him?  We didn't think we could. We discussed displacement but the guilt was heavy. Displacement?  He's not a product we buy at Target and then return upon breaking. He is a tiny person. With feelings. And trauma. How dare we do this to him.  But, how dare we keep him and expect him to thrive.  We felt the only possible way we could let him go is if he returned home or if a family stepped up and accepted placement of Duckie AND his siblings. We were running on fumes, burnt out & exhausted. But we prayed for a miracle.

The next day Duckie's case worker came to visit him and gave us the news that he was returning home.  HOME.  Where he belongs. With all of his siblings. We were shocked.  In less than 24 hours they would be back to pick him up. We know none of the details of the reasoning behind his return. We only know that they believe he will be safe & loved. The next morning, I packed Duckie's bag.  It was hard to pack his bag. However exhausted we were by his arrival, we still loved him and always will. 

The next morning the caseworkers came back. Duckie held on to my leg and peeked out from behind it at them. He smiled and giggled but he held his grip on me. I finally sat down on the ground and put his backpack on...and then the tears began. He cried. He clung. He BAWLED his eyes out. He cried out "MOM!  MOM!" as he tried to climb as deep into my arms as possible. I told him he was gonna go home.  I told him his siblings would be waiting for him. I told him he was a good boy and I'd miss him. I told him all this with a shaky voice and blurry tear covered eyes. The caseworkers stood there watching with the same blurry eyes and then we simultaneously knew it was time.  They reached for him as I attempted to hand him over. He was pried out of my arms and as they tried to comfort him and love him they left. He cried all the way to their car. I could hear his cries for me and peeked out the window to see his hand stretching out towards our home as if I could reach him and he could be saved.

As soon as they shut the car doors and I heard the engine start I collapsed in a heap of tears. The ugly kind that have you catching your breath. I cried from sadness and love. I cried for joy that he was going HOME. I cried from exhaustion and relief. I cried because I just hadn't had a good cry in a long time.  I hope we never see Duckie again.  Not in the cruel way, but in the way that means I hope they never call us to accept placement for him again. His stay in foster care was short and I hope his family will always love and take care of him so he never has to return.

We spent the rest of the day silently wondering if he was okay.  Being busy with the other two boys kept me distracted, but in the moments of peace & quiet I sadly thought about our Duckie.  John John still plays the games that he and Duckie made up. It makes me smile. They picked up a few good habits from each other and became little buddies that made each other laugh and would even  snuggle together at night.

This was our first goodbye in foster care. It ended well.  It ended with reunification. We couldn't ask for a better ending.