'Tis the Season...

Thus ends the most miraculous, wondrous, exhausting and emotional holiday season of my life. Our boys have been home for seven days, and in the course of that week, we have tried to instill a lifetime of values and guidelines.


I am sure to two little boys, it seems that we are a loop-recording of "No". No running into furniture. No punching, hitting or kicking your brother. No yelling. No talking back. No fibbing. No, you are not the boss. No, we are never going to give you up. That one will take the longest to sink in. 


In the course of our foster classes, and (let's face it), common sense, we were prepared for a lot of behaviors and emotions that would be considered "normal" for kids who have been through the amount of turmoil and upheaval that ours have. We were prepared for a lack of basic coping skills, for the inevitability of distrust, for lots of transitional neediness. We have encountered all of this, and it is all manageable and fixable...eventually. One thing I was not prepared for was the level of materialism inherent in our children. This, of course, was magnified exponentially by the timing of their arrival.  It seems we have talked about this everyday, ten times a day since they arrived in the house--what it means to be truly grateful, what the Christmas season is really about, and what we can do to show our gratitude to those we love, and who love us. 


One thing that we have tried so hard to instill in Gabbi is JOY. Be joyful for what you have been given, for the gift of your life and the simple joy hat is to be found in each day. I wanted this Christmas morning to be perfect---filled with that joy that comes with simplicity and happiness. That is not what Christmas morning looked like. The boys were sorely disappointed with their gifts from us, and from Santa. They tossed them aside like the wrapping paper they had also discarded. Brian and I were crushed---hours of picking out the perfect gifts now seemed like money and time wasted. What had gone wrong? When we put aside our disappointment, it seemed perfectly clear. All their lives, our sons had been given things to pacify them--they were showered with gifts from nameless donors and rewarded by things, not actions. 


"Stuff" doesn't mean a darn thing to them---but people do. Hugs still abound, "I love yous" are becoming easy, and joy is not a lesson you can learn in seven days. For now, our closet is full of gifts given by the amazing people who love and support us and new additions. We will bring them out slowly, once hard lessons have been learned and we have all come to terms with our new lives and our new rules...or roles. 


What I do know is this---no matter how frustrated I get, or how tired I am, I love them fiercely. They are mine to protect, to teach and to mold. Forever. And that's a really long time.

Hugs, Kisses and Time-Outs

Well, its our first day in our home as a family of five. Kiss count...32. Time Outs...5 (3 for Andru, 2 for Ethan) As long as the ratio is in that favor, I will gladly count it as a good day. 

We have our Christmas miracle. Our boys are home, and we are all under one roof for the time being. They love the house, and they think they love the snow, although they have lasted a whopping total of six minutes playing in it. Gabbi is in heaven--she now has built-in playmates and co-conspiritors. There were amazing moments today--and some really tough ones. The boys love each other. They love the same toys, the same movies and the the same clothes. This makes them both incredibly easy to please and very difficult to mediate. There were fights over Legos, fights over the bathroom, fights over who had said what and when. Andru likes to blame and reprimand his brother--he has been the boss for so long, it is going to be a long road to letting that role go. Ethan wants to follow the example of his big brother, but both of them want to be a part of this family. There is no doubt of that, and that is what will save all of us in this process. 

There is one moment that saved today. Gabbi was changing into one of five dress-up outfits that she wore all day (she settled most frequently on the bumblebee costume) and Andru went to her room to ask if she wanted to play. For the next hour, my three children played in Gabbi's room by her kitchen. They played their parts and dutifully sat at Gabbi's tiny chairs and ate invisible food off of pink plates with peeling princess stickers. I sat at the bottom of the stairs and smiled. My children like each other. Its a big deal.

There are lots of moments I could talk about that shed light on the more difficult aspects of this---rolled eyes and little lies---but its not worth it. I know that these moments will pass, and , as a very wise friend reminded me, everyone has those moments, even with children they have raised since birth. We will get past this. We will be a happy, connected family. Come to think of it, we already are.

Stay tuned...

To my Andru, on his 9th Birthday

To my sweet, funny little charmer...


You are nine today...halfway to eighteen as you proudly announced to me last night. I couldn't be with you, and that is heartbreaking. I wanted to make you a cake, watch you make a wish. But heres the thing--I think yours might be the same as mine.


Andru has been incredible throughout this whole process. He is so ready for the next chapter in his life--in our lives. He told me he is ready to be a Testa...he checks and double-checks: "I'm a Testa, too, Mommy, right?" "We'll all be Testas, right, Mommy?" Yesterday, he decided he needed a new middle name, too. He choose (drumroll, please...) DJ. We don't know where it came from, but he insists it sounds "cool". It does, too. Silly little man.


He is the bravest little boy I know. He is a forty year old man trapped in a little boy's body---always given more than he can handle, and yet handle it he has. He is...a superhero. He is also one of the funniest people I have ever met. He has this grin...he thinks it will get him out of trouble. I fear that sometimes, it will. We got him phone for his birthday. I had the perfect plan---I set it to ring "Happy Birthday" and had his foster mom set it next to his bed so I could be his alarm this morning for school. I ordered pizza for his class for lunch, and the assistant principal delivered a note for me. By ten a.m., his phone had been taken away for a week because he brought it to school. (*sigh*) Hopefully, he will be able to use it for more than a day at a time by his tenth birthday. He was slightly embarrassed that his Mommy had sent lunch in, but his love of pizza won that battle. (Go, Mommy!)


Andru, you are an incredible, strong, vivacious little man, and I have been proud to be your Mommy since the moment that I met you. I love your little dances, and the look on your face when you want something you know you shouldn't be allowed to have. I love how badly you want to be a part of our family, how you say "I love you" when I least expect it, and how your hugs often leave me breathless as you rush past. You are nothing short of amazing...and I love you, Andru DJ Testa.

A Christmas Wish

The stockings are hung by the chimney with care. Our Elf on a Shelf, Thomas, has been floating around the whole week. One bare spot remains in our house, a gaping empty corner where the Christmas tree should be. 


We promised our boys that we would wait for them to decorate the tree. Now, as the days pass too slowly, we still do not have a date for their arrival. The Christmas spirit seems to be on hold for us. I have not yet sent Christmas cards, I do not know what they should say. "Hooray! They're Here!!" or "A Happy New Year from our New Family". I hate the feeling that our lives are on hold, and I clean when I am upset or nervous. My entire house has been scoured and scrubbed. Endless bags of trash have been hauled out of things we are never going to use and should not have kept this long.


I think that Ethan is a bit relieved that the date was moved back. It has given him more time to prepare for the change. I worry about Andru. He will be 9 next week, and it crushing to both of us to think that he will not be with us to celebrate. He has been acting up in school, and when he is able to talk to me, he just questions over and over why he is not here. "Mommy, I would be there except for the papers, right? You signed it, though, right?" His questions are heartbreaking; its as if he is asking if we still want him. If he only knew how badly. 


Gabbi does not understand the delay. In anticipation of Santa's arrival, people keep asking her, "Who's coming soon?" Her answer usually surprises them: "Big brothers!!!" She is so ready...we all are.


As of last night, both contracts have arrived at our agency in Buffalo. With what seems like hundreds of signatures and reviews ahead, I do not know how long we still have to wait. But wait we will, with only one Christmas wish to offer. I want my family gathered around our glittering tree on Christmas Eve. That's all I want for Christmas. Here's to the hope that fills this wondrous season....

The red tape everyone said was there...

These are the days that everyone associates with the adoption process. Two days before Thanksgiving, I am frustrated and heartbroken. Our plans were made. The boys had started packing, and we were ready to bring them home next week. Then, yesterday morning, we received word from the boys' caseworker that the date had been inexplicably moved...tentatively to the 13th, but there is a chance they will not be here before Christmas. 


I tried to ascertain what had happened, what we could do to fix it, but no answer was forthcoming. I was told that "these things happen" and that "the boys have been in foster care long enough that they should understand". How can that be true? They are little boys! They need to know something other than disappointment, and we were supposed to be able to provide that. I am so sad, and so frustrated. We haven't told them yet. I don't know how. 


Today, I spent the day being re-routed over and over again to offices that knew nothing about us or our case. The world, it seems, has gone on vacation. I have left countless voicemails and begged very aggravated government employees to help us. No one has been able to give me answers. Everyone seems to want to help, but no one seems to know how. 


I want to bring my boys home...and now all I can do is wait for someone to call me back. 

Tale of the Hundred Mile Hike

After looking over my posts, they have gotten a bit heavy. It seems I have left out the specifics of our visits with the boys. These weekends have been mini-vacations for our family. Gabbi now knows how to wheel her own carry-on bag and buckle her own airplane seatbelt. She considers herself very well travelled. I suppose she is.


On our quest to find family-friendly, inexpensive activities in South Carolina, the boys suggested that we "go to the mountains". I would later remind them that it was them, and not us, who had come up with this idea. 


Friday evening, we took in "Megamind-3D". Several sugar-highs and a very funny  movie later, we were ready to get out of the house on Saturday morning. We piled kids, snacks and entertainment into our rented car and headed for the mountains. Thanks to GPS, we made it up a winding and seemingly endless road a little over an hour later. We landed at Caesar's Head State Park in South Carolina. It was beautiful, picturesque and ...too quiet. My children ran helter-skelter, climbing on railings and making my mommy-alarm go wild. After a quick stop, I was informed that the shortest hike would be provided on Trail #15...roughly two miles. Two miles didn't sound like much---tire the kids out, head home for a quiet evening. Silly mommy.


We started off the trail the picture of happiness. Skipping down the trail, my children darted from leaf to leaf, pointing out colors and walking sticks. Fast forward to twenty minutes and approximately 300 yards later...total meltdown.  Ethan's legs were "broken"---clearly no chance for recovery. Andru was smacking every object in sight with a walking stick that, thus far, had not been used for walking. Gabbi was watching her two heroes and alternating imitation--broken legs one second, stick swords the next. My husband was mumbling something about the amount of "country walking" the boys would need to join him in the woods, and could not understand what I found so funny. 


It all felt so...normal. Children crawling and complaining through the woods. Mommy and Daddy determined to have a good time as a family, darn it. For the record, we made it. All two miles. The whole way home, Andru and Ethan insisted that we had walked at LEAST a hundred miles. Maybe...or we still have ninety-eight to go.  

Tough Love

As I struggle to stay awake after our late-night arrival home from our second visit with the boys, I realize that it is more than just the late hour that has me exhausted. 


I was so thrilled to see my sweet boys again. I loved hugging them as they arrived home from school, making their Christmas lists, doing Andru's homework while sprawled out on the living room floor. But this weekend was...long. The living room floor belonged to their foster parents, not us. I know that this process has moved "fast" by bureaucratic standards, but that doesn't make it drag any less for us, and for the boys. 


They are caught in a world on in-between, and so are we. We want to set our rules, lay the groundwork for our expectations...but the truth remains that they aren't wholly OURS yet. Someone else packed their lunch this morning, and someone else will tuck them in tonight. At 8 and 6, I cannot even imagine what that feels like. They have a mommy, but she's not there. They can call me, but I can't pick them up if they get hurt, or wipe their tears if they're sad. I'm 28---and I don't get it---so how can I expect that they will?  


Their whole lives, my sons have been torn away from things they should have been able to count on. At almost 9, Andru has the eyes of a very wise old man. He is so desperate to come here, to be a part of our family. He wants a new start, but cannot let go of what he has had to be his entire childhood--an adult. He was caretaker and disciplinarian for his brother. He provided food and safety, and it is very hard to believe that now, someone else will do that for him. He has this grin---so full of joy, so like a kid that you almost forget he hasn't been that for a long time. I wonder how long it will take him to realize its safe to be just that...my little man is so grown up, and I just want him to experience what life should have been like all along. 


Ethan is scared to death. He yells in his sleep, and crumples at the faintest hint of disappointment during the day. He is a 6 year old who has never lived a normal life. Five of his six years have been spent in foster care, shuffled from place to place. His current foster parents have had him for almost two years. They are the only stability he has ever known. And now we are taking him away from them, too. How do you tell a 6 year old that its okay to trust? I suppose you don't. We will try to show him everyday, and hope with our whole hearts that it works. He is so heartbreakingly sweet in moments when no one is looking. He will come up behind me, rest his head on my arm and slip his hand into mine. There we sit, two people hoping the other one likes them enough to keep them. In those moments, I am terrified to move, to break whatever magic it was that caused him to come close. 


Andru's moments are just the opposite. He is a whirlwind, and he will grab in a hug you're not even sure happened as he rushes from one thing to the next. I love them, and I love that I have begun to understand these moments. I love that Gabbi is okay with all of this, with two more people calling me mommy. She wants to hold their hand and wrestle on the living room floor. She wants to be in the thick of their activity, no matter how rough and tumble it might be. I suppose, at the end of the day, we are a family-in-waiting, hoping that we all can stretch out  the moments that make it worth it into something that includes us all. Soon, my sweet children, soon.

At First Sight...

So, it would seem that being a mommy of three already has me busy---our first meeting with Ethan and Andru was one week ago, and no blog post yet!


We left last Friday morning for the trek to South Carolina. Two flights and an hour and a half drive later, we were fluttering around our hotel room pretending not to be terrified about the meeting that was about to occur. Where do you even start? At this point, we have talked to the boys everyday, sometimes multiple times a day, thanks to the wonders of Skype. But still...what if they didn't like us NOW? What if we arrived at their door to find out they wanted nothing to do with us?


Brian and I held hands wordlessly on the drive to the boys' house. Gabbi's endless stream of conversation was never so welcome. About five minutes away, Brian and I both worried that we might throw up or cry. Either way---not world's greatest impression of your new mommy or daddy. Brian said he felt like he was about to go on the most important interview of his life. I knew exactly what he meant---we had two short days to show them that we were loving but firm, nurturing and fair, and to spoil them just a little bit, so they knew we liked to have fun, but wouldn't set a trend we can't follow up on at home. 


Opening the door to their foster parents' house, we didn't know what to expect. The first few minutes were awkward, at best. The boys didn't want to come out. We waited expectantly like strangers come to pick up a kitten. Gabbi saved the day (doesn't she always??) by marching into the boys, handing them our gifts and saying, "We got you presents. You're my big brothers!" End of story. And just like that, the spell was broken. The boys came forward, gave us timid hugs, and began the whirlwind of show and tell. "Come see my room!" "Come see my toys!" "Come play soccer in the yard!" All of the above completed, it was like we had never been apart---never been strangers. It took all of about three minutes to know that these were MY kids---little people who would change my life forever. They already have, in so many ways.


Packing their bags for the hotel--I wondered at all of the little boy STUFF. Cleats, and tiny swimming trunks. Superhero t-shirts, GI Joes, no blankies. (Big boys, and all that) Leaving for dinner, we piled in the car, a family of FIVE. Brian grinned into the rear view mirror the whole way to the restaurant. Once there, big brothers took charge of little sister. They held her hand across the parking lot, tucked her into the booth between them, ordered her a milkshake just like theirs. She was, and is, in awe of them.


I loved that moment, sitting across from the three of them in the booth, realizing that this was it---those three little faces are my future and my joy. Dinner was chaos, and perfect. Shopping at the store was a challenge, and just right. We got back to the hotel room, changed for  swimming and returned for a movie and popcorn. 


That night, our family of five snuggled together under the covers. We spilled popcorn in the bed, read stories and pretended to watch a movie. My little boys made room for their sister and held my hand. They all said prayers, and Gabbi taught them our night-night song. That moment, that first moment that felt like real life, is all that matters. I know there will be tears and time-outs. I know that Ethan and Andru will argue with each other and with Gabbi. But I also know that we are a family, and that's what counts. 

He called me "mama"

This morning, I opened my computer to the sound  of my Skype phone ringing. Andru was calling. 


He was having an "off-night" last night, and he was sent to bed before he could show me his pumpkin. He also got a new cell phone (still not sure if Miss Shirley was just trying to pacify him, or if its actually activated...) He said he didn't have any numbers in there. I said he could put mine in. He said, "Okay, mama, I'm ready!" MAMA. I still don't know if he meant to say it. I'm not sure I care. I just know that when he said it, I didn't want to answer for fear of ruining it. 


Miss Shirley and Mr. Bob, who I am fairly certain are saints, have been calling us Mom and Dad since the day our scrapbook arrived. No Brian or Emily. The kids refer to us as "my new mom" or "the dad". It would have been a bit frightening if they had called us mommy and daddy right away, but that doesn't mean I don't want to hear it. (I am impatient...its been established.) 


I am still overwhelmed by how...normal their reaction has been to all of this---if there is a "normal" in this situation. They are two little boys, presented with a new family and a new life, and they are interested. They call at least once a day, usually twice. They fill us in on their day--what they ate, what they played with, if they got in trouble at school (usually, the answer is no...). I look forward to their calls, their voice, their stories. Monday, we read bedtime stories to each other. I found this wonderful book called I Love You So Much that talks about an unconditional love for our children from the day we meet (not the day they are born. The day we meet. An important distinction.) They read me Star Wars and Superman. Excellent. Next up from Mommy will be The Kissing Hand, which I am fairly certain is the sweetest raccoon story ever written. I cry every time. I try not to cry on the phone with the boys, for fear it will frighten them. Why is new mommy always crying? Poor boys. They do not suspect the emotional household they are now a part of. I cry at Folger's commercials. Why not my new children who just happen to be sweet, smart and wonderful???


I don't expect every day to be good, or easy. But I do know that God has chosen these boys for us, and us for them. They are in my heart, and I suspect that has always been true. One week from today, I will board a plane. One week and five hours from now, I will get to hug them. They have the whole weekend planned. Friday; out to dinner. Saturday; we get to watch their football and soccer games, and then play in the park. Sunday; church if we are feeling ambitious, and then go-karting. As a mommy of a little girl, I have to remember that I am in boy-land now. 


Love. 

Little Voices

As you can see, we have welcomed two little hams into our family:)


Thursday evening, we finally got to speak to our little men. After getting their foster mom's phone number, I called and left a message. I told her that we would love to speak to the boys, trying to contain my now-crazed excitement. I asked her to call me when all of them were comfortable, and reassured her that we would be available all night. Approximately, seven minutes later, she called me back. 


Shirley, the boys' foster mom, is wonderful. It is clear that our boys have been loved and nurtured for the two years that they have been in the care of her and her husband. We chatted effortlessly as she drove home for work, and I learned more in those ten minutes than I knew before about our sweet boys. As she arrived home, I heard it in the background. Two little voices asking the mundane questions I longed to hear..."I need money for our field trip tomorrow" ,"Can we have ice cream after dinner?" ( my kind of kids!!) My heart sang just to hear them. 


Shirley told me that the kids call us mom and dad. They have brought our scrapbook to their friends to show them. Andru wanted to call his "new mom" to get help on a school project. (that got me. the first of several happy tears on this evening.) The boys continued to flood her with pent-up questions and energy until she announced that their "new mama" was on the phone. Noise stopped. She asked  if they wanted to speak to me. Ethan promptly said no. Andru said yes. When he got on, I suddenly was in a voiceless panic---what to say? "Hi, I'm your new mommy---love me, please!!!" "Hello, young man, how was your day?" After a series of quick, horrible options, I settled on "Hi, Andru! Did you get our book?" (not bad...still trying to figure out what would have been better!) I asked him if he was excited or nervous, and he said, "Oh...I am excited!!!" After a couple of short, one-syllable answers, we made a Skype date for later that evening, after football practice. 


At eight o'clock, we sat and laughed as Andru performed in front of his Web cam. He's hilarious. Ethan sat off camera, but chimed in when he felt the need. Hot topics of conversation: does Daddy get to bring his police car home with him? Can we have a dirt bike? Where's Gabbi?


Good news---their new room is decorated in their favorite colors!! (Mommy guessed right!!) Even better news---I am completely and utterly in love with these two small people who have taken up residence in my heart.


We talked again tonight, and Ethan sat on camera (progress!!). They talked to our wonderful friends' kids, and know that they have several playdates ahead of them. They have already made a date for tomorrow, following their games so they can tell us all about them. 


Bliss.   

Pictures Say a Thousand Words

After what I am fairly certain was the longest weekend of my life, our boys finally got to "meet us" last night when our scrapbook was presented to them. I was up all night, wondering what they would say, what they would they think, how they would feel. 


When their caseworker called this morning, I was unsure if I wanted to hear how it went. What if they hated us? What if they took one look and said, "Ummmm...no. I really do not want THAT to be my forever family." Thankfully, it did not go quite like that. They were nervous, understandably apprehensive. They were handed a book and told that these people, these pictures and letters, were from their parents. How would you feel?? They looked through the book, smiled at a few things---our house, their room, Lucy (our faithful dog, who is very much like a person) and the fact that Daddy is a police officer. They like police officers. They asked a few questions, and then Ethan declared that he would rather be playing. Of course. Later, they took the book to their room and then brought it out to show their neighbors. Ethan is afraid that if they come here before Christmas, Santa will not be able to find them. 


I want to meet them , hear their voices, tell them that they can do this, that we are all going to be okay. How do you love someone you have never met? I have a profile, a background and IQ test results. I have third person accounts of what they have said. I want to talk to them, see them laugh, watch them play in the yard and bicker with their little sister. I want them here, where we can start the rest of our lives---together. 


I can't imagine how scared they are, how excited, how confused. At 8 and 6, much their young lives have been lost in upheaval and fear. For the last year and a half, they have been loved and taken care of by a wonderful couple. Now, everything is about to change for them again. We are so excited, so full of joy. But I have to think that they have much more trepidation than comfort at knowing we are here, waiting for them. All we can do is be here, arms open, ready to take what comes. 

Miracle

And then the phone call came. Ten days early. They picked US. Andru and Ethan, our "Huckleberry Finn" boys (see picture for explanation...) are OURS. 


Backing up, it was noon on Wednesday. I was in the middle of a class and opened my email to a message from my caseworker that read, "CALL ME, NOW!!!!!!" My hands started shaking as I dialed Kara's number, and she didn't wait to find out it was me to say, "They're yours!" I started sobbing before she got any further. When I got off the phone, after asking for reassurance about ten times, I called Brian. He was at a training course with a dozen other police officers, and I heard his voice catch as I struggled to tell him. Thoroughly embarrassed and too excited for either one of us to care, we both realized that in a single moment, our lives had changed. We were now the parents of three.


It is infinitely difficult to explain what I felt, or what I feel now. Two little people are in a home in South Carolina, but they are now my family. I love them with every part of me, and I have never met them, or heard their voice. 


The last twenty-four hours have been a blissful blur. Last week, the boys' caseworker asked us to begin putting together a scrapbook of our family, our house, our life. If selected, the caseworker would present the boys with the scrapbook to introduce us to them. Suddenly, I had one night to complete what I thought I had ten days to do. We all ran home, dumped the old furniture currently taking up the boys' room into the hallway, and began setting up their room so I could take a picture to include in the scrapbook for them. The scrapbook was overnighted today. Their room still needs pictures on the wall and a dresser in the corner, but it looks...ready.


Now...we wait...again. Hopefully, we will get to see them in the coming weeks. The unfortunate truth is that the boys won't be here permanently until near Christmas. For now, I want to see them, talk to them, hug them. I want to tell them I love them, and that I can't wait for them to be here, with us, where they belong.

A Tribute to Miss Gabbi

To my beautiful princess, Gabriella, on her third birthday...


Three years ago, you arrived and became the first miracle of my life. When I became a mommy, your mommy, I knew that it was the one thing that would shape the rest of my life. When I was pregnant with you, we chose a name for you that would truly embody what you already meant to us. "Gabriella" means "God gives us strength". He did just that for us through you. When daddy was sick, you gave us the strength and hope that both of us needed to get through each day. We knew that we had a reason for being here and being together--and that reason was you.


Every night, when I was sad or scared, you were there to give me the kick I needed to get back up and do needed to be done. You were my hope for our family, and today, you still represent that for us.


Today, I watched you parade around the house in your beautiful princess dresses, leaving a trail of glitter and  the clip-clop of baby high heels behind you. You are the lovely, joyful, vivacious little girl that I knew you would be. Your smile is still what gives me hope, and your silly songs and stories make every day worth it. 


Today is bittersweet. As we wait to hear about the arrival of your brothers, I am so blessed and overjoyed to see our family grow. But I also know that today will probably be the last birthday you spend as an only child. Our weekend at the "Magic Lake" was beautiful, but I know that will probably be our last vacation as a family of three. I know that you, my darling Miss Gabbi, will probably have the biggest transition to make as our family grows. But know this---YOU are what has made me want to be a mommy again so very badly. YOU are the one who has taught me patience and laughter and humility. You are a compassionate, bright, silly, wonderful little person, and I know that you will add so much to the lives of your siblings. You are what has made this house whole, and now we can share that with others. Being your mommy is the best job in the world.


I know that now you think you are a "big girl", but remember---I will always be your mommy, you will always need me just a little bit, and no matter what, you will always be my baby girl; my first miracle. 


I love you always and forever,
Mommy

AND...We're Off!!

I am so sorry to have been so remiss in my blogging activities of late...but today, I am so filled with joy, with expectation, that I must write!!


 In the past two weeks, our fearless caseworker, Kara, has been tirelessly filing our homestudy and posing inquiries about sibling groups that match our profile. To our dismay, over half of the groups on our list had already been adopted. Selfishly, I was a little sad, but then I realized that somewhere, twelve little ones have homes, real places where they are loved and comforted as they always should have been. And that is where the happy ending is for them:)


There is one pair of brothers that Brian and I have gone back to again and again. We have dubbed them the "Huckleberry Finn boys" because of their unique choice of photo on the website. Clad in overalls, fishing poles and the cutest smiles you have ever seen in your LIFE, the eight and six year old boys caught our attention immediately. Kara sent our homestudy to their caseworker immediately, and within twenty-four hours, she got a phone call back. In a world of red tape and regulations, that's fast. The boys caseworker said she was very interested in us, and that she would like to speak to one of us as soon as possible. Excited doesn't quite  begin to capture what I felt. Very suddenly, this all became REAL. 


When I called the boys' caseworker, I had two realizations: 1.) These boys would have very deep Southern accents. adorable. 2.) I was in the middle of the most important interview of my life. Should I sound excited? But not TOO excited (failed that one, by the way) Put together, intelligent, warm, caring, loving, firm, educated, open, sensitive...what is it that makes the perfect parent? I was very literally being interviewed to be a mom. I told the truth. This was incredibly important to us. We do have the tools to be what these kids need--- a loving, warm place that they can call home FOREVER. When I hung up, I felt confident. Giddy. and nervous as hell. 


Now...we wait. AGAIN. Within two weeks, we will have an answer. Five families will be chosen from the onslaught of interested, waiting families like us. They will be scrutinized, reviewed and analyzed until one is selected. Then, the phone call will come...I hope.

The World Around Us

What I have found to be the most amazing consequence of this journey is how it has shaped my perspective about everything else. As I sit and (impatiently) wait for our kids, I go to work everyday and bring what I have learned this summer with me. I teach 12th graders in a rural school district. In an English classroom, I have a lot of opportunity to hear personal stories and reflections. 


It has always been surprising to me what my kids go through at home. I grew up in a home where I had a loving, supportive mom. Dinner was always on the table. I had notes in my lunchbox, and no one ever wanted to trade with me because I had a nice, nutritional meal. Teaching was the first time that I truly understood that this was not the experience everyone was privileged to have. My first teaching experience was in Brooklyn. One of my students slept under the Brooklyn Bridge every night to avoid his father. Another was in the midst of his second  trial for larceny. When I moved to a sleepy rural town and began to teach there, I thought that I would escape those challenges. 


During our classes this summer, I realized a very simple truth: there is hardship everywhere. People are concerned by the trauma that foster children have experienced. So am I, but...there is hardship everywhere. So much of it is hidden from us, but we only have to look to see that there are children everywhere that could use support and encouragement that they most likely are not receiving at home. I am constantly amazed by the things my students tell me. They spill the details of their lives in an offhand way, and it is a constant balancing act not to push them into closing down---or telling too much.


This year, as I walked into my classroom and looked at the faces surrounding me, I remembered all the stories we heard in our classes. I remembered the stories my past students have thought nothing of telling me, and I realized that ANY of these kids could be the kids I want to save. I hope I never lose sight of that. I love my job, almost as much as I love being a mom---and sometimes, I am pretty sure that it's the exact same thing.

A Sibling Kind of Thing

Many people have asked us about our decision to adopt a sibling group instead of a single child. We've been asked what "kind of child" we will be getting. Foster adoption is not like placing an order at your local diner---or it shouldn't be, anyway. The less restrictions you place on what "type" of child you are willing to take, the easier it will be to place children with you.


When Brian and I sat down to hash all of that out, we discovered that we were willing to be very open-ended about the children that came into our home. Race: not an issue. Gender: only an issue when adhering to federal guidelines about space. Age: We want to stay with children under 10 or 11, because of our age and Gabbi's. We do not intend for this to be our only foray into foster-adoption, and that age limitation will raise as our own age does. As far as "issues" go, we know that we are capable of handling a lot of things, with the right amount of support. Here's the wonderful thing about foster-adoption---there are so many amazing supports out there to allow the kids to reach their full potential, and the caseworkers and agencies do everything they can to ensure the kids are getting exactly the supports they need, which makes it easier on both children and adoptive parents. There are a few behaviors we immediately ruled out, keeping our daughter's safety in mind: children with a history of fire-setting, physical aggression towards other children, or sexually acting out would not be a good fit for our home. Often, children with those behaviors are placed in homes without any other children, so as to minimize risk to the family. So, we came down to the last question...number of kiddos. I said, "bring it on." Surprisingly, Brian agreed. At this point, given the amount of space in our home, we are qualified and willing to accept a sibling group of 2 to 4 children. We can only take one girl, and up to three or four boys, given our bedroom space. 


That leaves a lot of options, and I know we will find the right fit for us. But...I started out talking about why we chose to adopt a sibling group. There are several reasons. One, siblings are categorized as "hard to place", because not as many people are willing or able to take them, and that means that we will most likely be placed must faster. Two, it just seems to make sense for all of us. Having siblings means that these kids get to walk into our home with a built-in support system. Despite a tumultuous past, their siblings have been with them consistently. They get to walk into our house, to an unknown place they are expected to suddenly call "home", with someone they already love and trust. That makes our job, and their transition, easier. I know how much my little brother means to me. I can only imagine what a sibling might mean to someone who has had the rest of their family taken away. So...two? three? four? It may sound like a lot, but it sounds like the kind of chaos I can't wait to welcome!

The Peanut's Perspective

So, a blog would not really be complete unless I took a moment to talk about our "peanut", Miss Gabbi. She's the light of our lives, a joy to be around, and just gosh darn adorable. (I'm not biased or anything, she's just the coolest kid on the planet)


Gabbi will be three in September (going on twenty) and she has been a huge part of this process. The first time I brought the idea up to her, we were in the car. I asked her what she would think about having big brothers and sisters in the house. Two tiny fists in the air, she yelled, "YAYYYY!! Mommy! I would love big brothers and sisters!!" Now for those of you that think, she's three, she couldn't possibly understand...you must not have met Gabbi yet :)


Since that day, we talk to her about everything. We had to leave her with her adoring Uncle Christopher twice a week to go to our foster certification class this summer. Every night, she would say, "Go get me big brotherrrrrrsss!!!!" We show her pictures of the kids we are looking at as potential matches, and we talk to her about what our caseworkers were doing here during homestudies, etc. 


I'm not saying there won't be adjustment issues, after all, she has been an only child for the first three years of her life. But she's as ready as we are to share our home and our family. She has, however, recently declared that she would really like a big sister, too, so someone could share her room. Gabbi and I spend a lot of our time together, since Brian works nights and sleeps during the day. She is so excited about all of this, and I know she will be world's greatest sister. 


I did have one concern---we live in rural Chautauqua County, where racial and cultural diversity are not exactly on an upswing. I wasn't sure what Gabbi would say when she saw our new family members, who most likely be a different color than she is. "Out of the mouths of babes" became a bit of a terrifying idea. And then, as usual, she proved to be much smarter and cooler than I give her credit for. We were in a doctor's office, surrounded by kids who were all of a different race. She looked around, looked at me, and said, "Mommy, are these ALL my brothers and sisters???" Cool kid. She's gonna be great.

Patience is a virtue...

So, here we are in our certification week and I am already impatient for the next step. I bought another twin bed frame this week (bringing our total to three). There are new comforters and sheets in the closet, and I have been trolling Craig's list for kid-appropriate dressers I can refinish. The hardest part is that we simply do not know what to expect. We could get two boys, two boys and a  girl, three boys and a girl...Where to begin??? 


I keep walking past what will be their room. I can hear the sounds of their voices in our house, and I long for the pitter-patter of more little feet running around upstairs. I told Brian I just hope they are here for Christmas--I want it to be the best one they--and we--have ever had. I want to enroll them in football and karate and dance class. I want to drive them all to school in the morning, and tuck them all in at night. I want to surround them with our incredible friends and family. 


For now, we are in a bit of a holding pattern. Every day, I look at the pictures of our "maybe family" and wonder which children will be the ones walking through our door to stay forever. I wonder if they will hug me, or if they will even want to talk to me at first. Regardless, I know that, for now, I will wait, and hope. 

What about the "bad kids"?

"There are no unwanted children, just unfound families."--Anonymous


We have been so lucky to have been surrounded by amazing people who are incredibly supportive and excited about our decision to adopt from foster care. I have received so many beautiful blessings from high school and college classmates, family friends and our wonderful close friends and family. (A lot of them have been in response to this blog, which is so cool, and yet, no one is "following" the blog, which makes me feel silly. Hint. Hint.) 


I want to publicly thank the amazing people who served as references for us. My principal, Josh, Greg, Leigh-Anne and Dave, Jamie and Jon, the Lights, the Bairds and Danielle, who also told me she would chip in for a new mortgage payment if I could take all of the kids:) I have GREAT friends!!! 


However, there are still people who look at me as if I might have three heads and a tail when I tell them what we've been up to this summer. Then come the questions: Aren't you worried about those kids coming into your house? Will Gabbi be safe? What made you want to do something like that?? So, here are your answers: 
#1.) I would be worried about ANY new people coming into my house, not just these kids because they're coming from foster care. And the rewards outweigh the risks a million times---we get to share our home and our family with kids who desperately need the love and stability we can provide. 
#2.) If you think I would ever do anything to put Gabbi in danger, you're crazy! We are making an informed, researched decision as a family, and that includes our daughter's opinion and her safety. Why are kids coming out of foster care "dangerous"? It was their parents who caused them to be removed from their home, not them!!! These are sweet, lovable kids who just want a chance to be loved and cared for in the way they should have been in the first place. The way I heard it best described was by a couple who had adopted their son at birth. When they were talking to parents considering foster adoption, they said, "Keep your mind open when reading a child's profile. Consider what you would write about your OWN child. How would you sum their lives, their personalities, all of their strengths and flaws into a paragraph?" What child hasn't lied occasionally, or had an issue that should or might require counseling? What if someone tried to sum YOU up in a paragraph? I probably wouldn't sound that great either!
#3.) What would make us NOT want to do this? This is a chance for our family to grow in so many ways. We get to have the big family of our dreams, and at the same time, we get to give children who deserve a second chance the life they deserve. Sounds like a win-win to me!


So--for the naysayers out there who think we're crazy, maybe this isn't for you---but it's definitely the right fit for us!


For those of you who have been our support and encouragement along the way---thank you for making everyday easier--we love you!

The "Heart" Part of Waiting

So...now the waiting game begins. We should be certified this week, and then our caseworker can begin to try to match us with a sibling group. How long can that take, you ask? A week. A month. A year. Bottom line here, we have NO IDEA! 


For those of you that know me, "patient" is not really a word to aptly describe how I like to get things done. Especially when I'm excited or anxious, I want it NOW, and I also would love it if you could just hand over the reigns and let me do it myself, thank you very much. Unfortunately, that is just not the way this process works. You have to trust the people around you to do their jobs and make the best decisions for us. We have a PHENOMENAL caseworker, who has already worked tirelessly to get us this far in the process. BUT...I am just not a good wait-er. So, what to do in the meantime?


Well, to the amusement of my husband, I have begun spending every waking moment I have free from two year-old princess games and attempting to get ready for the new school year on AdoptUSKids, which I mentioned in my last post and the nationwide database of Heart Galleries. Heart Gallery of America is the coolest organization. The bottom line is this---when you select children as a "potential match", you have little more to go on than a picture and a paragraph that is supposed to sum up the child's entire life and personality. Its not a lot to go on. What Heart Gallery of America does is enlist professional photographers in locales across America. The photographers volunteer their time and talent to take professional, beautiful pictures of typically "hard to place" children available for adoption through foster care. They hold gallery showings as well as posting on the Internet. Sibling groups and children with particularly high medical or behavioral needs are classified as "hard to place", and these pictures give them the leg up they need to shine among all of the children that need a forever family.


Thus far, I have selected approximately 12 sibling groups--totaling 32 children as "potential matches". I would take all of them in a heartbeat---unfortunately, my husband is reluctant to move into a hotel. I have also suggested we move out of our spacious master bedroom and swap for the kid's room...it would mean we could fit lots more adorable, lovable children!! I will continue to lobby for a swap. Until then, the Internet and I will be close friends and partners in the waiting room of it all...

Where we are in the sticky red tape of it all...

So...how did we end up here?? Well, it all started with a website (doesn't it always?) I knew that adoption, specifically foster adoption, was the right fit for ME---but I had to convince Brian. I knew that the second he heard a child call him "Dad", that would be it--he would be in for the long haul. But I needed him to take that first step with me. So, I logged onto Google (where else?) and ended up on the AdoptUSKids website; a national photolisting of all the kids in foster care currently awaiting adoption. After a LONG search, I selected three sibling groups (yes, I said "group"---go big or go home, people) to cautiously show Brian. He didn't even blink. He still had some reservations, but he gave me the okay to start making phone calls.


Once you start looking at foster care from an adoption-only perspective, it means you look nationwide, and chances are, you will very likely end up with children from out-of-state. I started calling family services offices in Texas, Oregon...just looking for a place to start. I got a million different answers, and it quickly became frustrating. I just needed some ANSWERS!!


I got a phone call from a family friend, Linda, to whom I now owe a HUGE debt of gratitude. She directed me to Gateway-Longview,  a subsidized organization that works in tandem with Erie County Family Services to do a myriad of amazing things. In addition to training foster and adoptive families, they also provide residential services for troubled teens, family counseling, day care and therapeutic services, most importantly for us, provide matching and legal services for families hoping to adopt out of foster care. After a million unanswered phone calls to other agencies, I called Gateway and got someone on the phone immediately. Michelle, the supervisor, set us up with Kara, a parent trainer and homefinder.  It was a Thursday. They had foster certification classes starting on Monday, and they were willing to work with us to get us in the class!! In ten minutes on the phone with Gateway, I had more answers than I had gotten in two weeks of chasing my tail with other agencies. I was impressed, and my energy was renewed.


SO...six weeks, a million pages of paperwork, two homestudies and a LOT of learning later, we are being certified next week, and then the matching will begin.


Did you know, that right now, over 123,000 children are available for adoption through foster care in the United States??

Our Story...

In many ways, I have lived a beautiful life. I have an amazing mom and family. I married the man of my dreams at 24. I have a strong faith; I am blessed to be surrounded by an amazing group of friends and family, and go to work everyday to a job that gives me satisfaction and fulfillment.

However, almost a year into my marriage, my life was been turned upside down by life's challenges. I have a beautiful daughter who is almost three years old named Gabriella. She is the joy of my life. But when I was five months pregnant with her, my husband Brian was diagnosed with advanced stage III Hodgkin's lymphoma. In between obstetrician visits and sonogram appointments, we went to chemotherapy three days a week.

You have to understand, my husband is one of the strongest people that I know. He is a 6'1" police officer, and he is loved by everyone around him. I saw my husband on the brink of death, held his hand when he didn't even have enough strength to hold mine, and wondered if my daughter would have a father. However, out of that experience, we were surrounded by more support, love and encouragement from our friends and community than we thought was possible. I will never be able to properly thank those people who picked us up from our darkest hour.

Today, I have been blessed by two miracles: my beautiful, healthy daughter and my handsome husband who has been cancer-free for two and a half years. My one sadness in life is that as a result of his chemotherapy, we cannot have any more children.

On our first date, my husband and I both know we wanted a big family –twelve kids!! After two miscarriages and several failed tries at in vitro, we knew that there had to be another option for us. We had discussed adoption, but what are two civil servants to do about the enormous costs associated with these things?  I needed help! I want my house to ring with the joy of children's laughter as I always dreamed that it would, and I did not know how to make that dream come true.

Now, after a million phone calls and a lot of explaining, we have embarked on the lengthy process of adoption through foster care. It is virtually cost-free, and it will allow us to do exactly what I have always dreamed of doing—filling my house with kids who desperately need to be loved! 

How I Became a Blogger

I have finally decided to do what I should have done long ago...I love to write, I love to share, and it seems only appropriate that I should join the long list of bloggers everywhere. I can only hope that someone might find our story interesting enough to care how it is progressing!


As we have embarked on our journey into the weaving web of government-funded programming and red tape like I never knew existed, our friends and family have had an endless amount of questions. How does it work? What kids will come into our home? How did we decide to do THIS??


So, here is a place I hope to answer those questions and catch you all up on the grand changes life has planned (or un-planned) for us. And maybe, just maybe, one of you out there in cyberspace will discover that this is something you might want to try some day....:)