Skip to main content

"Hi, Mom!"

Today was a very momentous day. 

I will preface all of this with a simple fact that everyone involved in our journey will need to accept: due to confidentiality, there are some things that we just can't share.  

With that said, I will tell you that we met a beautiful girl today.  For now, let's call her "Kiddo".  Kiddo is 6 years old and after a brief 30 day stay in a residential placement, she will be coming into our home with the intention of adoption.

There have been lots of meetings, phone calls, and logistical maneuverings leading up to the events of today and I won't bore you with the minutiae.  Basically, Kiddo's social worker met us (and our UMFS intake coordinators) at UMFS for lunch today.  Until now, all we knew about Kiddo was on paper and via case worker reports.  She hadn't seen a picture of us either.  

When we asked her what she knew about what was happening right now, she said, "I'm going to go stay at [residential placement] for 30 days, and then I'm going to come and live with you. And hopefully you will adopt me."  My heart melted.  

So we sat down with this engaging little girl and talked about favorite foods and what our house looks like and our pets and her favorite things (Frozen is a big with her right surprise).  Then we got to play with her for about 30 minutes on the playground. We were dubbed "king" and "queen" while she pretended to be a princess, expelling ogres and spraying fairy dust everywhere.  

When the time came to say goodbye, it was with a promise that we would come to visit a few times over the next month of her residential placement, using the time to get to know each other better.

It is so hard to explain the emotions I've experienced today. Over the last week, knowing this meeting was coming, I was somewhat emotional anyway.  The gravity of this new part of our lives and everything that the foster/adoption journey entails can weigh heavily on my heart sometimes.  It is this odd combination of reflecting on how much we have lost (what brought us here) and anticipating everything that is to come.  It is knowing that the rest of the journey still will have its share of bumps and hurdles but what parenting journey results in smooth sailing 100% of the time?  With all of that, we still had this vague picture of "a kid" but without the specifics.  

Now we have a Kiddo.  We are becoming parents again but in a totally new way. The picture is a little more complicated now.  There are many people involved in the process, which is alternately reassuring and challenging.  

I guess all we can do is see what the next chapter will bring!  

Popular posts from this blog

The Edge of Seventeen

It's that time of year when the blog musings center on my grief journey. Every year, it seems like we are busy with end-of-the-year school activities and the start of summer, planning vacations, and then (kablam)'s almost July 9.  Grief is funny. Grief is weird. I remember very early after Charlotte died, I watched the movie Rabbit Hole.  There's an amazingly poignant scene where Nicole Kidman's character is talking with another woman who lost a child over 10 years before (played by Dianne Wiest). She talks about grief being like a brick in your pocket. It never goes away. Sometimes you can even forget it's there. But it comes back and makes its presence known from time to time. And (she says) "it's what you have of them."    I probably did not fully realize then what a powerful and true analogy that is. As time goes on, our grief changes. Yet, it is always there on the edge of things. It sits in that pocket and sometimes makes itself known.  This

The Stages of Grief: COVID Edition

It's 2020. It's almost Christmas. We're still in the middle of a pandemic. In fact, we are experiencing what appears to be an incredible surge that is exerting tremendous pressure on our healthcare and social service system. The headlines are clear: we're not done with this madness and December 31, 2020 will not magically be the "end of it".  Earlier in the year, our family thought about whether we might be able to travel at this time. We thought that maybe the curve would be flat enough that we could take a few days away from home during the Christmas holidays. We realized that the pandemic would still be happening, but with the right protections and with prolific mask usage, we could get a much-needed change of scenery. During what is now (clearly) a delusional thought process, we booked a stay in Gatlinburg, Tennessee for the week of December 19th. Spoiler alert: we canceled the trip almost two weeks ago.  Canceling this trip was not a tragedy. In fact, I

Bittersweet Sixteen

I think about Charlotte every single day. However, this time of year, I'm flooded with all kinds of memories as we commemorate the anniversary of her birth. This year feels like a bit of a milestone. Sixteen.  If cancer had not taken her life back in 2010, I have a feeling I would be planning a massive birthday celebration this year. 16 always feels like a landmark year in someone's life.  I have been thinking a great deal about the last birthday party we had for Charlotte in 2009. We didn't know it at the time, but we were halfway through her treatment journey. We had been through three major brain surgeries and a few rounds of inpatient chemotherapy. Treatments were not going well. In fact, right after her birthday, we would make the trip to Houston, Texas where we would settle in for about 10 weeks of proton beam radiation treatments and a new customized chemotherapy protocol. This was the unspoken "last chance option" to beat that aggressive brain tumor into