March 30, 2007: I woke after only 2 hours of sleep, got a shower and did my hair. Then Chris and I got in our car and drove to Mercy Hospital to become parents for the first time. I was excited and nervous, I remember rubbing my belly in the shower and asking my baby if he was ready to meet us. We got checked in and had all the c-section preliminaries done, and were joined throughout the process by my mom and dad and my mother-in-law, who gave me great advice about which route to take to numb my body. Right as I was being wheeled down to the OR, my sister came in with a tray of goodies, which I couldn't eat yet, but gave me a kiss and a good luck wish. Once everything was in place on the operating table, the doctor started the procedure, and I wondered if I would know when they pulled my baby out. Not to worry, there was no pain but tremendous pressure on my abdomen, and then suddenly my little boy's cries filled the room, and they held him over the fluid splattered curtain to show me James. He was tiny, covered in waxy vernix and amniotic fluid, and squirming and crying at the "cold" room and bright lights. They told me his feet were pressed against his ears when they opened me up, and he had little Spock ears for a week, until they finally curled under. He was 6lbs 15oz and 18 inches long. I had expected that he would be bigger, since I was at full-term, but he soon outgrew the tiny preemie clothes he wore that first week, and then continued to grow and need new sizes every few months! He also latched on for breastfeeding right away, and was a wonderful eater from the start. He's not such a big fan of trying new foods these days (unless it comes in a bright shiny wrapper) but he always has a healthy appetite.
Becoming a mom changed my life. It has taken me in directions that I never could have seen, and never thought I would do well. During my pregnancy, I kept saying that we wouldn't have any more kids, because the experience felt terrible, but looking at James' tiny face and pursed lips in my hospital room made me want to do it all over again. Things I would never want to forget: the feeling of him leaving my body, the closeness we experienced during breastfeeding, the first time I heard him laugh, then the first time he laughed at something on tv (an episode of Pink Panther), feeling pressure from his arm and realizing that he was hugging me back, every time he fell asleep in my arms and let me cuddle him (including this past weekend), watching him learn to walk, feed himself, dress himself, talk, use the Wii, the dvd player, the iPhone, the computer, light switches, doors, a flashlight, the way he would rub my pregnant belly and kiss his future brother, the way he smiles, the way he laughs when he's being tickled or sees something really funny, the first time he counted to ten and when he learned the alphabet. In just 4 short years we have experienced all of those things, and I can't wait to see what the future holds for my special boy. I love you James!
Wednesday, March 30, 2011
Wednesday, March 9, 2011
Becoming Foster Parents
This coming week marks a new experience for our family. Chris and I will begin our Foster Home licensing classes and what promises to be a long process of paperwork. We are excited that our family will be able to grow this way, and ultimately hope to give a forever home to at least one of our foster kids. At the same time, this is a completely different way to become parents than how we have done it in the past, and I'm nervous not only about the experience, but also about how people will react to our situation. The friends and family we've talked with have so far been very encouraging and supportive, and for that I am so grateful. I am also so glad to have a new friend who has gone through the foster and adoption process with our local Children Services, to use as a resource and possibly a cheerleader when things get tough.
I'll be learning about how the system works and what to expect over the next four weekends, but what lies behind me is a long path of inspiration and experiences that have gotten us here. I recently tried to think back on all the ways that foster care has popped up in my life, and why I have been called to do it. One strong memory was reading "White Oleander" by Janet Finch. I think I picked it up because it made Oprah's book club, but it was a beautifully-written account of the ugliness of human nature, with a young woman in foster care at the story's center. When I finished the book, I remember thinking that there has to be someone good to be a foster parent, not someone who will sleep with a teenage girl, or lock up her cupboards and starve the children in her home, and I wanted to be that person. Another experience was getting to know a little boy named Joshua, who was in foster care when I met him, and was later adopted by the family he lived with. My mom signed up to take Joshua out and give his family a free afternoon on the weekends, and he soon became a regular fixture at our church and in our home. I was a teenager and loved spending time with this precocious and affectionate kid. Certainly, Joshua had issues associated with being in foster care, being neglected by his birth parents, and generally at-risk in a society that preys on children without an advocate. Again, I wanted to be able to protect him and care for him in a way that would help him reach his full potential. Over and over, foster care seems to pop up in my life, as though someone has used an orange highlighter to bring it to my attention. And every time, I want to be a part of it.
The next piece of the story involves my family; certainly I want to do many things, but I need my family to willingly participate with me. So how to get my husband on board with my plan? I started with prayer, which you can scoff at if you want, but it has been hard at work in my life, and made a difference. So I prayed that my husband would be open to fostering children with me, if that was what I was supposed to do. In the meantime, we started a family of our own: two blond-haired, blue-eyed boys with amazing smiles and independence to spare. I became a stay-at-home mom to save money and keep them close to me while they are still willing to sit on my lap and cuddle with me on a cold day. Finally, this past September, our church offered an opportunity to spend a weekend at a nearby Children's home and volunteer at a carnival to raise money, then visit with the children who live there. A little persistence got my husband to agree to go, and our kids stayed with the grandparents while we were gone overnight. The trip was life-changing. Chris and I spent the first morning helping set up the carnival, then ran a few game booths and had a chance to socialize with all the different people who came to the event, including the staff at the Children's Home. That night, we went to the "houses" on the property and played board games and colored with some of the children who live there. The ages we met were early elementary school, and so likeable and excited to spend time with us. We left the next day and spent our car ride home talking about what we had seen and done. That was when Chris shared that the time he spent with a kid named Michael had filled his heart with the desire to give a home to a kid that needed it. We finished the morning at church, where the sermon focused on following through when you are called to do something good that seems scary or uncertain. And that was when we requested paperwork to begin the licensing process.
So sometime in the next 6-18 months, we'll be placed with a child who needs a temporary family. And maybe that will turn into an opportunity to adopt, or maybe we'll be able to send that child back to his or her birth family and open our home again. I can't wait!
I'll be learning about how the system works and what to expect over the next four weekends, but what lies behind me is a long path of inspiration and experiences that have gotten us here. I recently tried to think back on all the ways that foster care has popped up in my life, and why I have been called to do it. One strong memory was reading "White Oleander" by Janet Finch. I think I picked it up because it made Oprah's book club, but it was a beautifully-written account of the ugliness of human nature, with a young woman in foster care at the story's center. When I finished the book, I remember thinking that there has to be someone good to be a foster parent, not someone who will sleep with a teenage girl, or lock up her cupboards and starve the children in her home, and I wanted to be that person. Another experience was getting to know a little boy named Joshua, who was in foster care when I met him, and was later adopted by the family he lived with. My mom signed up to take Joshua out and give his family a free afternoon on the weekends, and he soon became a regular fixture at our church and in our home. I was a teenager and loved spending time with this precocious and affectionate kid. Certainly, Joshua had issues associated with being in foster care, being neglected by his birth parents, and generally at-risk in a society that preys on children without an advocate. Again, I wanted to be able to protect him and care for him in a way that would help him reach his full potential. Over and over, foster care seems to pop up in my life, as though someone has used an orange highlighter to bring it to my attention. And every time, I want to be a part of it.
The next piece of the story involves my family; certainly I want to do many things, but I need my family to willingly participate with me. So how to get my husband on board with my plan? I started with prayer, which you can scoff at if you want, but it has been hard at work in my life, and made a difference. So I prayed that my husband would be open to fostering children with me, if that was what I was supposed to do. In the meantime, we started a family of our own: two blond-haired, blue-eyed boys with amazing smiles and independence to spare. I became a stay-at-home mom to save money and keep them close to me while they are still willing to sit on my lap and cuddle with me on a cold day. Finally, this past September, our church offered an opportunity to spend a weekend at a nearby Children's home and volunteer at a carnival to raise money, then visit with the children who live there. A little persistence got my husband to agree to go, and our kids stayed with the grandparents while we were gone overnight. The trip was life-changing. Chris and I spent the first morning helping set up the carnival, then ran a few game booths and had a chance to socialize with all the different people who came to the event, including the staff at the Children's Home. That night, we went to the "houses" on the property and played board games and colored with some of the children who live there. The ages we met were early elementary school, and so likeable and excited to spend time with us. We left the next day and spent our car ride home talking about what we had seen and done. That was when Chris shared that the time he spent with a kid named Michael had filled his heart with the desire to give a home to a kid that needed it. We finished the morning at church, where the sermon focused on following through when you are called to do something good that seems scary or uncertain. And that was when we requested paperwork to begin the licensing process.
So sometime in the next 6-18 months, we'll be placed with a child who needs a temporary family. And maybe that will turn into an opportunity to adopt, or maybe we'll be able to send that child back to his or her birth family and open our home again. I can't wait!
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