What we have been up to this past year.

I feel like it has been a hundred years since I have blogged. And, subsequently, I feel like my last post was at least a lifetime and a half ago.

I know no one reads blogs anymore, let alone this one. That's ok. I just thought it might be nice to post an update on the off chance that anyone was wondering, "hey, what happened to Jessi?"

My last post was during the summer of 2017. We had just completed our initial foster training classes. We were matched with a social worker (called a resource worker) in September and met her in October. She worked on our homestudy, coming to our house and doing interviews, having us fill out questionnaires and surveys. In January she wrapped up our homestudy (which is just the packed of information about us) and sent it on to her supervisor to be approved. And then she retired. She told us if we didn't hear back from the cabinet in about 6-8 weeks, to call and follow up.

In February of 2018, I started having a lot of trouble seeing. I went to the eye doctor and they saw some things that concerned them. So I had to go see a specialist. The specialist didn't see my paperwork before I walked in- he just started the exam, and the nurses didn't give him a heads up about my medical history. So during the exam, he scared me half to death when he said (in more professional terms) that he didn't know how to tell me this, but there was something really wrong with me. The deterioration of my eyes indicated a serious health problem. I said "wait, did you see my file? I have EDS." He was so relieved he started to laugh. "That explains it!" My retinas look like those of a 90 year old. They are full of holes. The good news is that he doesn't think they are getting worse, and the holes are located in areas that don't require surgery right now. So I just live my life seeing little dark spots floating around in front of me. The main point of this story is that I was extremely stressed at this time. In the middle of all this, I got a sinus infection, and then an ear infection, too, and begrudgingly used some of my sick time that I was saving for whenever we got our placement.

In March, I started to get antsy about our impending approval to be foster parents. I knew it had to be soon. I did get a call near the end of the month from one of the social workers who handles the transfer of kids between homes. He said that this sibling set didn't really fit our criteria but all their other open homes were full or not interested. We declined the placement for a couple of reasons, but continued praying for those girls. And I continued to be stressed.

On April 5, 2018, I got a call at work. On the office phone. "Last night, we took in a sibling group of three. We are looking for a concurrent placement for them." (Concurrent, in fostering terms, means that they don't think that the kids will be reunited with their birth family, and they would prefer to place them with a family that is open to the idea of adopting them, so hopefully they have fewer disruptions.) The social worker told me their names. Two boys and a girl. The boys were 11 months apart, 4 and 5 years old. The little girl was just 3. We would need at least two bedrooms, beds for each of them, and a childcare plan in place. Were we interested? Yes, we were! After frantically calling Brandon at work, we told them we wanted to accept the placement. We couldn't come get them right then, though, because technically, our home hadn't been approved yet. The supervisor had cleared us, but "upstairs" (meaning, the department head) had not signed off on us. They legally had to get that signature before the kids could come home with us. But they would start working on it.

That happened on a Thursday. I made plans to take off work on Friday. I went to Target and got some clothes, toddler dishes, toddler bedding (a toddler bed was donated by family, and we had it just in case, but it wasn't set up yet. We did have the bunk beds set up, though, with gender neutral bedding already on them.) I got carseats. I got bubbles and sidewalk chalk and coloring books. I got some kid friendly groceries. I did what I could to prepare. Our awesome cousins brought over two huge baskets of outgrown clothing in various sizes and that all got washed and sorted. And I continued to wait. I called three times asking for updates. I knew that the kids were staying at the Home of the Innocents, which functions as a clinic, group home, visitation point, and all around helpful place for the children of our city. I didn't want them to have to stay there too long. I was sure they were scared. But the people "upstairs" dragged their feet, and it became clear that we weren't getting the kids over the weekend. I made plans to go back to work Monday and play it by ear.

Meanwhile, as I worked on all these things, I stayed home and stressed. My sweet friend Steph sent me an edible arrangement full of chocolate covered fruit and balloons, reassuring me that everything would work out. I remember eating so many chocolate covered banana pieces that I made myself sick. I just wanted them to call and tell us to come get the kids. I was terrified that things would fall through while we waited.

Monday I went to work, and later in the morning, they called and said we could come pick up our kids the next morning at 8:30! We spent Monday night putting together car seats and making sure everything was ready for our new little people.

The pickup from the Home of the Innocents was surreal. After we finished signing paperwork and going over our rights and responsibilities, one of the nurses at the Home showed up with a battered suitcase and three tiny little people, with tears coming down their cheeks, wrapped up in puffy jackets with the hoods up. They started crying louder as we headed out to our car (the social worker and nurse came with us and helped us load everyone up.) We started driving home and I tried asking the kids about things that they like. "Spiderman," as we call him on social media, asked if we had a dentist. "Because we have cavities." Then "SB" (short for Sleepy Beauty) told us she has a tiny scar on her forehead because "Gracie bit me." (Gracie is one of the dogs.) They continued to ask us about our house and our life as we drove home. We walked in and turned on the TV and let them pick something on Netflix. We fixed snacks. Brandon had to go back to work, so I stayed with the kids and just hung out, texting my friends and family as the day went along. We kept a running list of needs and wants with the grandparents ("they really like tuna, if someone can add that to the grocery list....the shoes that the home sent are all either too small or too big. Also they don't have any long sleeved stuff and it's cold!") My parents came over that evening with more groceries, some clothes, and a couple of new toys. Those first few weeks were filled with helpful people dropping things off or sending packages from Amazon. We are so grateful for the help we had!

The weekend that the kids were supposed to come, though, my grandfather went into the hospital. He had health problems off and on for the last decade, but always bounced back. The kids got to meet him through Facetime on my mom's phone. They did so well meeting each member of our family and though they were shy at first, warmed up to everyone so easily.

I had decided to take two weeks off from work to get everyone settled, get them in daycare, etc. And my Pappaw stayed in the hospital the whole time. And he got worse. Two weeks after the kids came, about when I was supposed to come back to work, he passed away.

I had never lost a grandparent before. It bothers me sometimes that I wasn't able to go see him because I was busy with the kids. It bothers me more that he never really got the chance to get to know them. I used to call my grandparents every Monday when I was driving home from work. For the last six months that he was alive, Pappaw was always asking "how's the adoption going" and giving his thoughts on the subject (he was very excited and so frustrated that everything takes so long!)

I thought that maybe we wouldn't have any more surprises for a while, at least outside of the realm of being foster parents. We had another break for two weeks, and then Brandon lost his job. I arrived home from taking the kids to an appointment to find him at home, which was extremely surprising. I got them settled with their happy meals, a promised reward for behaving at the appointment (which took place at the Home, where they had been staying while they waited for us- I expected it to be a traumatic event and McDonald's helped them cope!) I went upstairs to ask Brandon what he was doing home so early, and when he told, me, I couldn't breathe. It's not my story to tell, but he was in management and one of his employees participated in a well-intentioned but not at all allowed little venture, and his company has a very intense (and I feel unfair) accountability policy. Since Brandon was in charge, he was held responsible as well as his employee, though he had nothing to do with the things that were going on. His employee got wind of it before he did and submitted her resignation and was able to transition to another job. The district managers were really upset about having to break the news to Brandon. They told him they fought for him, and I believe it, but he worked for a very huge, nationwide company, and personal stories and recommendations don't matter much to them. He had spent the day after this devastating meeting trying to get another job lined up. And I wondered what was coming next.

Brandon losing his job was devastating and depressing and disheartening and a whole host of other d-words I can't even think of right now, but the timing, in a weird way, was actually pretty good. He was able to help with the kids a lot more because his job had him leaving at 6:30 in the morning and getting home close to 7 in the evening most days. Plus he was working Saturdays and some Sundays. We were still in an adjustment period and it was all hands on deck. He was able to be there for our family in ways that he wouldn't have been if he had been working at the same place.

I don't know if you've picked up on it, but there's a little theme here. For a while, something big happened in our family about every two weeks. Kids coming, losing Pappaw, Brandon's unemployment....and then two weeks later, I realized something was off. Without sharing too much personal information, my body is a mess. Just a complete freak show. I have a couple of conditions that have meant that throughout my life, my body has been unpredictable in some ways, including when it comes to my stupid periods. We attended a wedding in May and I realized that my dress didn't quite fit the way I was expecting it to. And then I remembered that I hadn't had a period since before we got the kids. In February. Around the time that an insurance issue meant I had to switch birth control pills and I happened to start taking antibiotics for my ear infection. On Memorial Day, I finally gave in and did two pregnancy tests. I am sure you can see where this is going now. My response to seeing that positive result was to throw the stick down in front of Brandon, exclaim "what the crap is this??" and burst into tears. I have never been so scared. I was ashamed, which in a way is stupid because I am married, but hey, I was raised very conservative, very Baptist, and there is some very real baggage there. I am pretty sure I haven't heard most of my family members ever use the word "pregnant." But I digress.

We weren't trying for a baby. Bio kids were never part of our plan. I was not interested. Not only does the idea of pregnancy completely creep me out, but I didn't want to run the risk of passing on my genetic conditions to a biological child. It wouldn't be fair, I felt. I didn't know how to tell my family. I didn't know how we were going to afford this, with Brandon being out of work. I didn't know so many things. I also realized it might be kind of an issue that I was, at my best estimate, about three months pregnant and I had not taken care of my body in a way that pregnant women are expected to do. I called my doctor to make an appointment for a blood test. I was immediately filled with even more panic because they estimated I was 14 weeks pregnant and the scheduler told me "we don't take on patients who are past 12 weeks." Well, that person was an idiot who didn't listen to me when I said I was already a patient. They don't take NEW patients past that time, because of lack of medical history, I guess. Either way, it was a scary phone call and a long wait on hold. I went in for my blood test and got the results via email later that afternoon. My hormone levels, to get a positive pregnancy result, would have been less than a hundred parts per whatever. Mine were at about 200,000. I got my first real appointment and ultrasound scheduled. The first picture I have of my baby looks like a real baby- not a peanut or creepy blob reminiscent of a crustacean (I did mention I'm not really a fan of the whole pregnancy thing, right?) I still wasn't 100% sure all this was real, but now I had photographic evidence.

Last summer was wild. We were getting to know the kids better (and dealing with daycare problems that included, later, an investigation into how one of my kids was treated- without my knowledge- and an inpatient stay in a psychiatric hospital), trying to keep me going (I was just really tired- I only felt sick one day and I thought that was just my stomach being my stomach. I actually lost over 20 pounds while I was pregnant, before I knew I was pregnant, but I also didn't have time to eat three meals a day the first month or two that we had the kids. So I really had no idea all this was going on, seriously.) I kept trying to figure out how to tell our families. I was scared and embarrassed. I was worried what people would say. I don't know why. I kept wanting to come up with a script so people would know "we didn't plan this!" And I don't think surprise pregnancies are funny or charming. I love, love, LOVE my baby and I am glad I have him, but finding out I was pregnant threw me into a very deep depression. It was complicated. For me, it wasn't a "teehee, God sure has a sense of humor" experience. I know that just about no one will understand that, but those were my feelings. And I felt guilty about it, and I still feel guilty about it in some ways.

We tried to make plans to tell my parents and Brandon's at the same time. His dad was deployed overseas at the time. I thought about stalling and telling everyone when he got home, but that was supposed to be what, two months before my due date? So that was out. Then I tried to get all the grandparents together for dinner or ice cream or something. Mine kept flaking on us (there was a lot going on) and the one day I could get them to come over, Brandon's mom said she planned on taking a day for herself and not doing anything! Then I thought about not telling anybody out of spite, because I am petty and a little damaged. But it had to be done. Brandon's mom was picking up the kids on Thursdays, meeting him at the house, and staying through bedtime (which, at the time, usually ended around the time I got home at 9:15.) I decided to tell her one Thursday. After we talked about her evening with the kids, I said "well, I have some weird news......uh.....we're having a baby?" and she gasped and said "The kids' mom is pregnant!" "What? No! I am!" And then she laughed. And there was much rejoicing. And  me making anxious jokes. I ended up telling my own parents via a video call. I just couldn't get them to come over at the right time. I told them "don't get mad that I'm doing this on facetime, because I have TRIED to tell you in person, but I'm pregnant." My mom said she knew it. I said she did not because I hadn't even known. She said 'well I figured it out just now because you are nervous." She was not exuberant and really seemed kind of disinterested about it, but I know that she was playing it cool because she knew I was anxious. She could not, however, keep her cool when she asked how far along I was and I said "almost five months." Ha!

My last trimester was pretty rough. Apparently there is a hormone that kicks in around that time that relaxes your joints. My EDS makes my joints already relaxed enough, thank you. I was in excruciating pain. My legs were popping out of socket just standing up from my chair at work. I had to start physical therapy. I also learned that my workplace does not do paid maternity leave. I was trying to save every bit of vacation and sick time I had, but I kept having to use it for issues with the kids and doctor's appointments and days when I was just in too much pain to function. I felt awful because I got a new manager around this time, and I felt that I was just making her life so much more complicated. I also found out that I had to have a c-section because of my health issues. I had to see several specialists to determine what my options for delivery were. The metal rod in my spine was installed in such a way that an epidural was not on the table. There was only a 50% chance that it would work. They also didn't want me to go into labor on my own because I might end up injuring and permanently damaging some of my joints thanks to the EDS. So it would be a c-section. And, unfortunately, the location of my metal rod meant that I couldn't have a spinal block. I would have to be put completely under. I did not feel guilt about having a c-section, as some moms do. I was kind of relieved, honestly because I like to plan and know when things are happening. But I did feel horrible that I wouldn't be able to hold my baby right away. That it could be hours, worst case scenario, before I would hold him. I wrote up a birth plan explicitly stating that I only wanted Brandon to hold the baby until I was awake.

My c-section was scheduled for Tuesday November 20 (just about a week after my OBGYN got back from her own maternity leave! I forgot to mention that I only saw my regular doctor once during my pregnancy- the rest of the time I was shuffled between strangers. Fun.) I got sick the week before. I had already planned on taking Monday off, because I figured that I wouldn't be able to focus anyway. I ended up having to take off the last day I was supposed to work, too, which I think was Friday. And then that night I had to go to the emergency room because I temporarily lost my vision. It turned out that I had coughed and blown my nose enough in my illness that my blood pressure got all kinds of messed up. It went back down on its own, so I didn't have to be admitted, but it was pretty scary there for a while!

Tuesday morning came and Gigi (Brandon's mom) came to stay with the littles and get them off to school while we went to the hospital. It was nerve-wracking. We got there a little later than anticipated because we had trouble figuring out something on our brand new (as in, five days new) van, a necessary purchase before the arrival of child number four. The check-in process was long and I couldn't have or do anything I usually do when I'm having anxiety issues. They couldn't even give me any medication for my nerves because the baby would get it, too. I had to walk back to the operating room after saying bye to my family ("if you schedule your c-section, you get to walk!") and it took them a really long time, it felt like, to prep me for the surgery. They couldn't knock me out until the doctor had scalpel in hand, again because the medication would get to the baby. They were going to slice and dice, basically, get him out of there, and then finish up (and do a tubal ligation while they were in there, thank you modern medical science.) My fervent prayer was that I would do well with the anesthesia and wake up as soon as possible so I could hold my child. I ended up having a panic attack as they prepped me for surgery because I was laid out on a small bench, arms out to the sides like I was about to have a lethal injection, completely unable to do anything to comfort myself. I had the kindest nurses who held my hands and begged the doctors to go ahead and put me under so I would feel better.

The next thing I knew, I was in recovery, feeling extremely thirsty. I looked up and saw a clock- I had gone back at about 9 am and it was a little after 10. I looked to my right and saw a curtain, and to my left was Brandon, sitting in a chair, talking to a tiny bundle of blankets. I said "that's him!" and then I asked for some ice.

Henry Benjamin was born at 9:00 on the 20th of November. He weight 7 lbs 6 oz and was 20 inches long. He was not nearly as fat as I thought he would be, since my last ultrasound at the high risk doctor showed he had some neck rolls. He definitely was the same baby that had been in my belly- I recognized him by his frantic kicking and limb flailing. There was no nurse on that ward whose swaddling skills could best him. We had to stay in the hospital a day longer than we had hoped because he lost a little too much weight. I missed Thanksgiving in there, too, but I planned ahead and brought Henry's turkey booties and first Thanksgiving onesie and bib to the hospital. The kids got to visit on the first night and were absolutely smitten. A baby brother is the best gift I could have given them- before he even knew I was pregnant, Batman asked me if we could tell some police officers to bring us a baby.

We are hanging in there. I just recently went back to work. The kids continue to have their ups and downs. Their ups are beautiful and glorious. They are absolutely adorable. They say the funniest things. They are the best dancers. Their downs are hard. They are complicated. They have a lot of emotions. They missed a lot in their first years. They've each had a birthday. I don't know what people find more interesting, the fact that I had two maternity leaves in one year or the fact that I have three stairstep children and then this one random surprise baby. Henry brings a lot of calm to our house. He has brought me some worries, of course- his first few weeks of life I was terrified he would die because, in my mind, he was never supposed to have been born in the first place. I was afraid that my being in denial about his existence and then the complicated emotions I had as I carried him had jinxed him. But he is just the chillest baby. His father is very stoic, so it makes sense. He doesn't cry very much, and when he does it's  usually short lived. If he isn't feeling well he really just wants to be held. He does try to sleep through the night, but he is a snotty little thing (if any baby could have allergies this early, of course it would be ours) and his overproductive nose wakes him up most nights, at least once. But you can tell he doesn't want to be awake! He loves to smile and laugh, and he is REALLY good at making other people smile, too. Everyone loves a baby, of course, and everyone thinks their baby is special, but Henry's a little different. I think he knows what our family needs to be balanced out, in terms of drama (or lack thereof.) The kids scream a lot and make a lot of noise and can throw a really spectacular fit, and Henry has only ever cried two times in what, fifteen weeks of life because of their raucous behavior. He mostly just stares at them with his giant blue eyes, throwing that perfectly round Mr. Magoo head of his around to watch everyone. We love him so. Just as we love the other kids. I honestly felt more attached to the older three there for a little while- the differences in how they came to be in our families doesn't impact how we love our kids at all.

So that's it from me for now. I happened to have a lot of feelings today and some free time at work, and decided to bang this out and see if it would help me feel better. Who knows if it will be another year plus before I write again! But it's been fun catching up.

While I Was Away...

I can't believe it's been two years since I updated this blog. I definitely thought it was just last summer! Oops. Sometimes I run out of things to say (coherently, anyway) and then when I have an idea I'm not in the right position to go ahead and flesh it out. Plus I'm a procrastinator. A lot has happened since my last post, so I will try to share some updates here.

Last year, while I was planning my second Compassion trip (Honduras!) Brandon was working his way through our bookcase and reading books that I've had for years, and he was just getting around to reading. He does the same thing with movies- loads bunches of titles into a spreadsheet and randomizes them. So he'll go from reading "Dante's Inferno" to some random Jen Hatmaker book I asked him to read in 2009. Anyway. It just so happened that he read three or four books about orphan care in a row. One must have struck a chord with him, because he started mentioning little factoids about the number of children in the US who were in need of homes, and our responsibility as Christians (not just the Joneses, but the entire church) to care for them. And right before my Honduras trip in October, he asked when the next informational session about foster care adoption was being held. This was a HUGE step in our journey as a couple and a family. This is the most involved that Brandon has been, outwardly, in our pursuit of becoming parents. It showed that he was really mulling over what our options were and what he was learning, and had come to a decision. So, just two days after I got back from Honduras, we went to our informational meeting with the cabinet. At this meeting, we turned in our preliminary paperwork (a brief questionnaire, release for background checks, stuff like that.) The informational session was "valid" for one year. It was basically our first training session If we waited over a year to take any other trainings, we'd have to do the first one over again.

So thus began months of praying and waiting. At least I knew which path we were headed down, which was a big relief. We were going to wait a little longer to tell people this was what we were doing, but after the election I was really struggling with some stuff (not going to sugar coat it- if you live in this country, you know there has been a lot of ugly stuff happening and a lot of fractured relationships, no matter who you voted for. It's been inescapable.) And I wanted to put some good out there and share some nice feelings, so I shared on facebook that we had gone to the info meeting and this was where we were headed as a family. To me, this is the equivalent of a friend sharing that they're trying to get pregnant. It was a big deal for me! Something for my friends and family to be excited about in the future. Reaction was mixed. I don't know why that matters. It shouldn't, but it does. It's kind of a downer when you share something exciting about your life with people you care about, and some of them have a reaction like you told them the weather was really nice on your weekend off. I'm really thankful that some of our friends started praying for us and our journey right then, and acted excited and happy. That's what I wanted. To share the happy.

We still had our financial goals to consider, though, before we moved forward very far. We didn't necessarily want to start the process of homestudy, for example, when we weren't yet ready to replace our (ancient and sad) cars, and things like that. We kept chugging along, though, trying to pay off bills and save what we could. I was hoping to move to a full time position in January but that didn't happen, and we skipped the next training meetings for that month. Then in March another opportunity unexpectedly came open, and I got the position. It was bittersweet because the position came open when one of my closest friends moved to another branch. I didn't want her to go AT ALL and really struggled with it. I told her "I'd rather stay poor" and have her stay with us at our branch, than get her job if she left. But she left anyway, and I moved up, and that really helped us in meeting some more of our goals. There are still a few to go, but a tremendous amount of pressure has been taken off my shoulders when it comes to finances. So in March, we called about making the next training sessions. They wouldn't be until July! The cabinet offers the classes every month, but they cycle through the dates. Saturday classes are only offered quarterly. With our work schedules and Brandon's management responsibilities, we just could not take the classes on a weeknight. So we waited until July.

And then July arrived, and we did our 15 hours of required, in-person training for the state. It was interesting to see all the other couples who were there to pursue licenses to foster or adopt. Most of them were there to foster. There were lots of couples our age and a little younger, and over half the people there were from our neighborhood, which is amazing considering the size of our city! There were older couples and couples in their early twenties. Two groups were there to get certified to adopt kids that are already in their care. Some were there to get assistance to care for relatives (our state got rid of the kinship support assistance, which is embarrassing.) There were same sex couples and single people, too. It was exciting to see people from all backgrounds and all walks of life, with all sorts of experience, ready to do what they could to make a difference in the lives of some of the 8000 children in state care. And, I have to say, I really admire the tenacity of the two extremely pregnant women who were there with their husbands. I can't imagine having the energy or emotional fortitude to deal with having a newborn AND a child in care, which often requires special consideration in the first place!

Applying to foster (and adopt) requires a LOT of paperwork. And it should! None of it is particularly hard, it just means I have quite a little to-do list. Let's see if I can remember what all we have had to do, and what we received a the training.
Before the training, we had to get together:

• Family histories and personality profiles
• Medical histories and release forms from our doctors (Brandon still needs to do his) 
• Personal and credit references (including asking some of our utilities to write letters saying we pay our bills on time) 
• Questionnaires about each other 
• A massive list of questions about our interests (to compare with our potential children) and about what behaviors and special needs we feel we would be able to parent 

At the meeting, we received: 

• A training booklet that followed along with what our presenters were telling us, and had lots of extra info, exercises, and links
• Sample copies of all the medical papers we will have for our kids, and other important information, to "preview" 
• Lists of our rights and responsibilities as parents, and the rights of the kids; basically a massive list of expectations, with lots of details
• A form so they can set us up with a mentor 
• Tons and tons of contact info. For anyone and everyone. 

What do we still have to do? We have one more little piece of paper to fill out (a financial summary) and we need to turn in our credit references (they didn't tell us what those were before we went, so we had to track them down afterward.) Brandon needs to have his physical and have a doctor fill that form out, too. Then we will take our remaining paperwork downtown and turn it in to Ms. Lonnie, the placement worker who helped facilitate our class, and do our fingerprints at the same time. Then we wait for a call from the social worker, which will come when they finish adding all the rest of our info into the computer. When we get that call, it's up to us to make the time for our first home visit. We still need to take care of some things around the house (though we did get the bedroom cleaned out this weekend, thanks to some help from my amazing and kind friend Emily!) and we need to take care of our car issues, too. The social worker who came to our meeting said that we could have anywhere from 2-5 home inspections, and they sometimes recommend extra evaluation for some people. When those things are finished, the social worker signs off on us and sends our info to her supervisor. And it takes 4-6 weeks (ish) for the supervisor to sign off on us and send us to ANOTHER supervisor. When THAT person is done reviewing us and signs off (another month or so) we go on The List! The fact that we are looking to adopt, rather than short term foster, will sort of slow our placement down a bit, but on the other hand, we are open to a wider variety of placements than many people who want to adopt from foster care, that may help speed things up a little. We will see what happens. The ball is in our court right now because we have to finish turning in our paperwork so they can take the next steps and move things forward. 

So here is my updated list of prayer requests for you!

• Pray for our children, even though we don't know who they are yet. They are out there and they have experienced loss. Otherwise they wouldn't be in care. 
• Pray for us as we prepare our home and get ready to have our lives inspected in ways they never have been before. 
• Pray for our support network, that they would feel emboldened to check in with us, ask what's going on, or be willing to help out should the need arise. 
• Pray for our finances and for wisdom for Brandon as he mulls over the decision to replace my car or pay off some bills with some money we currently have saved up, and for good decision making as we continue to save and take care of our responsibilities before our lives change in such a tremendous way. 
• Pray for my heart, which feels so heavy some days because of all these things going on. I am burdened for our kids, whoever they might be, on top of dealing with my patience issues and trying to juggle our huge to-do list!

Where Dreams Come True

I think I'm done with the informational posts for now. When I started this blog, I told you that some posts would be informational and others would be more like journaling, sharing my heart. This post falls into the second category.

I am a daydreamer. Big time. I think at least 20% of my brainpower is devoted to daydreaming and planning ahead. I think I mentioned before that I was planning the most minute details of my honeymoon- which day we'd visit which Disney parks, what restaurants we'd go to and what we'd eat while we were there- over a year before the trip. If I have something to look forward to, I plan the heck out of it. The plans are flexible, of course. I'm not planning a schedule, or anything. But I like thinking about what I'm going to do and how I'm going to have fun. I think it comes from an appreciation of knowing what's going to happen, a love of structure, and the simple fact that my life is pretty boring on a day-to-day basis, so looking forward to something is a bit of an escape.

One of the things I like to daydream about is what it will be like when we have a family. Sometimes I'll see something and file it away for later- like when Brandon and I were watching a movie last week, and it took place in Montana, before much of the West was settled.So I'm sitting there, thinking "gosh, that land is beautiful. I want to go there. It'd be amazing to see in person." And then that train of thought turns into "wouldn't it be fun to go on a cross-country trip? We should see if anyone in our family has a camper. I wouldn't want to stay in a tent. When we have kids, we should go camping out west. But we definitely need a camper." I have never really had a desire to go camping before, so I don't know where that came from.

Then there's the big dream- Disney World. Some people think Disney is just kind of fun. Some people think it's overrated and too expensive and not worth it. I adore Disney World. Adore it. I can't think of a better word. Every time I've been there since I got married (three times) I can't help but think, while I'm there, what it will be like when I have my own kids and I get to take them to Disney. I will tell you right now that as soon as I become a mom, I will start saving for a trip to Disney. That's like, number two on my priority list: get a kid, then take said kid to Disney World. I want to do the whole Disney surprise thing, like those videos that go viral from time to time. There was one that was shared recently, where a little boy started crying tears of joy when he found out that he was going to get to go to Disney World! I identify with that kid! Sometimes just seeing one of their commercials makes me tear up! I want to get the Mickey ears and do the character dinners and eat Mickey waffles and get all excited about meeting the characters and watch the parades, all as a family. I'm so excited by the idea of  taking them on my favorite rides and showing them all my favorite things, sharing my excitement with them, and learning what their own favorite things are. I have no idea when it's going to happen, but I am already looking forward to it!

Special.

I'm not super convinced that this post is going to be very coherent. I'm trying to do posts on specific topics, at least for starters, and I wanted to do a post about special needs adoptions. But there is soooo much to say! Let's see how it turns out.

I think a lot of people are nervous about adoption because they think all the kids have something wrong with them. Obviously, there's no guarantee that a biological child will be 100% "perfect" with no problems whatsoever. But it's important to understand that "special needs" in adoption speak can mean a whole bunch of different things. Obviously, there are medically fragile children available for adoption. There are kids who have behavior disorders or mobility issues or developmental delays or disabilities such as blindness and deafness. But in some instances, "special needs" can cover other issues as well. Kids with attention deficit disorder or learning differences can be called "special needs." Kids with minor, fixable issues such as strabismus (also called lazy eye), or cleft lips and palates are special needs. Kids with anxiety are considered special needs- which is ironic because that special need can sometimes be pinned on the fact that a child has lost his or her family in the first place. Kids with food allergies and asthma are special needs. Now, think of your friends with biological children- or your own kids. If your kid has food allergies, would you think of him as special needs? Would you think "if I had to choose, I wouldn't pick this kid because of food allergies?" Nope. So don't be afraid of the term! It could mean just about anything! And it's worth noting that kids are also considered special needs adoptions if they fall into demographic groups that are a little harder to place in families- whether it's a sibling group, if the child is "older" (meaning, like, 7) or an ethnic minority. In my state, two African American sisters, aged 8 and 6, who are perfectly healthy, would be included under the umbrella of special needs adoptions, and therefore would be eligible for more assistance from the government (like, a different stipend rate while they're in foster care.)

At this point I'd like to pause and say that it's really sad that black kids or second graders are considered special needs because white Americans (who, statistically, adopt more children than Americans of other ethnicities) are apparently so bound and determined to adopt little babies who look like them. It's your prerogative, but it's still sad. I digress.

There is an overwhelming chance that mine and Brandon's kids- at least some of them- will be labeled as special needs, because we don't care if our kids are white and we're not doing a fresh-out-of-the-oven infant adoption. Don't be intimidated. I know that at least some of our friends and family members will be. For the more personal portion of this post, I'll tell you a little bit about what our family may look like.

Adoption agencies usually have a sort of survey for prospective parents, asking them how comfortable they are with adopting kids with different special needs. There's a long list of issues, mental, medical, and otherwise, and they may ask you to rate your level of confidence/comfort about the issue. Somewhere in my bookmarks, I have one of these surveys bookmarked- I can't find it right now, but I'll edit this post to include a link if I find it! It's really interesting to look at, in my opinion. It's two pages long and lists a bunch of medical needs in different categories, and asks the potential parents to circle how willing they'd be to adopt a child with that particular need. So there's autoimmune stuff, like allergies (food allergies, seasonal allergies, the kind of allergies that require you to rip out your carpet and install special filters on your air conditioner), mobility issues (braces, crutches, wheelchair), spinal bifida, scoliosis, diabetes, heart problems, HIV/AIDS, hearing impairment....anything and everything you could think of. I spend a lot of time thinking about this stuff, and there were things on there that I didn't consider. There were even specific diagnoses listed that I looked up to learn more about. It was interesting and informational.

Anyway. Unless we move, which I don't know that we are going to do soon, we probably won't be adopting a child with mobility issues, at least the first time out. We have no problem with it, other than our bedrooms are on the second floor of our house. Because of safety issues, significant visual impairment is probably also out. I don't think we have an opinion on hearing impairment, though. I don't mind. I don't remember discussing it with Brandon. Learning disabilities? Fine. Anxiety and depression? I feel uniquely qualified to parent a child with those issues. Food allergies and asthma, no problemo. It may be controversial, but we're also perfectly fine adopting a child who is HIV positive. And if that's controversial for you, then that's because you are a little bit uneducated about the disease. The fact that people don't understand it and are afraid of it for no real scientific reason makes me even more willing to adopt a child with that diagnosis. There would have to be a lot of education going on for friends and family members, but I will go on the record now saying that if my child is HIV positive and it comes down to it, we will most definitely cut people out of our lives for making stupid comments or "jokes." It's already a subject that really bothers me and makes me get pretty fired up, and my family is not directly impacted by the disease at this time. More significant intellectual disabilities are on my prayer list. I don't really know how I feel about that right now. And that's ok. I love working with special needs kids, but I'm not sure that I am meant to be the parent of a child with a special need such as Down syndrome, for example. THAT'S FINE. The whole goal of adoption is to be the best parent you can be to a child. That's not to say that God wouldn't give someone the ability and confidence to parent a child with significant special needs after they've spent their life thinking they couldn't do that. That's why it's so, so important to carefully consider all these different options. And pray a lot. Seek God's will. I personally would prefer to go with an adoption agency- or a social worker- who is also a Christian so I could trust that they'd be thinking of these things, too.

I hope that if your heart is open to adoption, it's also open to adopting a child with special needs- maybe you'll give it some extra thought now that you know the term can be applied to just about any kid, for a host of reasons. And my prayer request for this post is that our hearts and minds will stay open to needs that maybe we hadn't considered before, so we don't miss out on the child who is meant for us.

Look at these rainbow cats! Yay!

Putting a Price Tag on Love

Newsflash: adoption costs money.

A lot of people wonder about that. Some people joke and call it "buying a baby" which I thought was funny for a few minutes until I remembered that thing called "human trafficking." And a lot of people make comments about it "just being so expensive" and sometimes they feel that they could never adopt because of the financial cost.

In this post, I'm going to tell you a little about why adoption costs money. And why some adoptions costs so much. And why really, it's not as much as you think.

Let's say that you're going to have a biological child. I hate to break it to you, but those cost money, too. Some people require the aid of prescription meds to get pregnant (not fertility treatments, just a little hormonal nudge to get things going.) Some people also buy ovulation kits (that's the only time I'm going to type that phrase on any of my blogs.) And then pregnancy tests. And then labwork to confirm. And prenatal vitamins. And parenting classes. And Lamaze or natural childbirth classes. Maternity clothes. And monthly doctor's appointments. And then appointments every two weeks. And every week. And every few days.Sonograms and ultrasounds. Hospital bills. And all the little bills that go along with that- if you've ever had a hospital stay, you know what I'm talking about. Charging for each medication, for the one doctor who was "observing" that day, for the anesthesiologist, if you have one....it's never ending. It's not like a hotel, where you come in and pay for the nights you stay, and leave. It's more like a hotel where you didn't realize that there was a mandatory fee for even having towels in your room, and there's a minibar minimum, and oh guess what, you have to pay the maid separately. Surprise! Biological babies are not "free." Friends may joke that you've just signed away all your money for the next 18+ years, but no one ever looks at a newborn in a bassinet and says "she's cute and all, but didn't she cost you a lot of money? How much did you pay to get her?" Weird.

Adoption costs money too. It's a complicated process, and it should be. It should not be super easy to bring a child into your home and make him or her a legal, permanent part of your family. That is actually called kidnapping. But I think that for people who haven't looked into it, there is a lot of mystery surrounding the cost of adoption. Maybe folks think that adoptive parents are just told to write a check to an agency and that money magically makes a child appear. I know there are some people out there who think that at least part of the money is used unethically to pay parents for their children. Or pay orphanages for their children. If you're using a licensed, accredited agency, that's just not the case. As I said before, different kinds of adoptions cost different amounts, but I'm just going to use international adoption as an example here, because I know the most about it and I think it's the one people are most suspicious of.

You know how any time you need to fill out paperwork for the government, it seems like you have to pay a fee? You pay for your driver's license. You pay a car registration fee every year. You pay to get extra copies of paperwork. And it's not just the government- a lot of doctor's offices charge fees for paperwork, too. Fees to get your own medical records. Fees to have the doctor sign a piece of paper saying "yes, she had surgery and needs to stay off work for a few weeks. Fees fees fees. Anytime paperwork is involved, you can expect a fee. Adoption is kind of the same way. There are LOTS of papers to fill out, so there are lots of fees (and again, there SHOULD be lots of papers to fill out. We don't want to kidnap.)

So you start with an application fee. Some places to free "pre-applications" and that's cool. Charging for application fees is not a new thing. If colleges can do it, organizations that build families can do it, too. If you're accepted, you're going to have agency fees, usually divided up into chunks. Again, totally understandable. The agencies employ people who help facilitate your adoption. It's like a realtor. Technically, you could do the work yourself, but it's a lot of facts and laws and rules and papers to keep track of. So someone helps you out. A lot of the agencies I have looked into also include a donation to their orphan care programs in that. Meaning, a portion of the money you're paying the agency to help facilitate your adoption may be distributed among some of the children's homes in that country, to help them with operations costs. I like this part. If it wasn't included, I'd like to think I'd make a donation on my own. In between paying these chunks of fees to your agency, you're going to have paperwork to file. And before you file the paperwork, you've got to obtain papers. You'll need a passport. Medical records. Birth certificate copies. Marriage certificate copies. All of these things cost money to get. And then you have to pay money to mail them, certified, to the right people. And some money somewhere along the way is not only going to your own government for paperwork services, but is also going to your child's country's government for paperwork services. Because paperwork has to be done on both ends. Oh, and don't forget the paperwork involved for a homestudy. If you don't know what that is, it's basically a blanket term to describe the process where someone looks at your life and decides you're able to be a parent. It involves questionnaires, interviews, recommendations from friends and family, and even visits to your home. Social workers are involved. They deserve a paycheck. So there are some more fees. And then there are court proceedings. Some random clerk doesn't just decide that a child can legally be yours, a judge has to do it. And you know, anytime you're dealing with any court system, there are going to be fees (and some of them are paperwork related!) Somewhere along the way lawyers or liaisons are going to be involved. Fees!

So you get matched with a child, and after much waiting and paperwork and mailing things back and forth, you are ready to travel. And guess what? A lot of countries require two trips. So you make your first trip to your child's country. Airfare ain't cheap. You buy your tickets (money!) and hop on a plane. You have to eat while you're in the country. And you can't just sleep on the street. And if you don't speak the language, you're going to need an interpreter (a lot of agencies include these in their facilitation fees, too.) You stay a few days in the country meeting with people and signing paperwork, and you fly back home and wait. If everything goes ok, you get the date for your second trip, the most important one. You buy more plane tickets, only this time, for the trip home, you'll need an extra seat. The second trip to the country is usually a little longer than the first- anywhere between a few days and a few months, depending on the country. More meals and hotels and a few more papers to sign, and you're ready to go home. But wait! I hope you remembered to get your child's passport (fee!) and immigration paperwork (fee!) before you left. Now you're paying fees for three! And when you get home, you're not done. If you want to legally adopt your child in the United States, you'll have to meet with a judge here, too. And a lawyer will help you with that. There will probably be a few more pieces of paperwork here and there. And you have follow-up visits with social workers. Sometimes there are just one or two. Sometimes there are more than that. It depends on the country your child came from. You could even have visits at one, three, six, and 12 months home. Your agency may have had you pay those fees earlier on, but most likely you'll be paying them at the time of the follow-up visits.

It sounds like a lot, doesn't it? Well, it kind of is. That may be a reason why international adoption isn't for everyone. Weirdly enough, though, domestic infant adoption can be just as expensive, if not moreso. You have a lot of the same fees (paperwork! Homestudies!) plus a little bit of travel, and in some cases you may be required to pay for your birthmother's medical care. So you get that fun part to deal with, too.

But before we bring this lesson to a close, let me point out that not all adoption is expensive. I hate it when people say "I can never adopt because I'll never have the money." That doesn't make sense. Adopting from the US foster care system costs little to nothing. There's not nearly as much paperwork involved, because you're not dealing with another government, just your own. You'll still have to have a homestudy, but the nice thing is that we want these kids to be adopted, so that fee is usually waived or reimbursed. The government handles the paperwork. If you want to adopt from another state, you'll still have to fly or drive over and pick up your kid, but that's much more affordable than flying to another country. And you don't need a passport or visas or immigration papers. When you're ready to finalize everything, you'll still need a lawyer, but if your state doesn't provide one at no cost, you can probably get reimbursed for that, too. Until a child is adopted from foster care, the government is their "parent." So they're footing the bill for almost everything involved in this process. I'm friends with or have spoken to several people who have adopted from foster care, and all of them said that the one or two fees they had to pay were so small, they didn't even really notice them and couldn't remember how much they were- and they got reimbursed anyway. So "I can't afford it" isn't really a viable explanation for why more people aren't adopting. It just depends on what kind of adoption you're open to (and I think the foster care topic is deserving of its own post, coming soon.)

I guess the moral of the story is this: yes, adoption is a financial commitment. Big deal. Anyone who has a family is making a financial commitment, whether they birthed their child or adopted them. Yet one of these family-making methods gets a disproportionate amount of criticism, nit-picking, and teasing. The next time you hear someone making a comment about the "cost" of an adopted baby, making fun of a celebrity for "buying" a child, or anything equally misinformed and offensive, maybe take a moment to talk to them about it. Clearing up some of these misconceptions and wrong ideas can only bring more understanding and acceptance for adoptive families, and that's a good thing!

My prayer request for this post is that you pray for all of the families who are currently in the process of adopting their children, that they will be provided for financially and they will have peace about the process. And if you're interested in helping but don't know any families who are currently adopting, check out Reece's Rainbow. This neat website features children who are available for adoption in many different countries, and gives folks the opportunity to make a (tax deductible) donation toward their adoption. If you see a child on there that you'd really like to help, you can donate toward his or her adoption fund. Then, when that child is matched with a family (and some families are made when folks just take the time to poke around the website!) the financial burden is a little bit less. The largest funds are available for medically fragile children, in the hopes that they will be brought out of institutions and into loving homes that much faster.

Darts on the Map

When I tell people that we are adopting our kids, I get one of two responses. The first is "bless your heart" (or sometimes "you are so sweet," which is confusing.) The other is "where from?"

We don't know, at the moment.

We know where we would like to go; we just don't know where we are supposed to go first.

Weirdly enough, Brandon is the one who is a little less cautious on this topic at the moment. His attitude is basically "pick one." And I am the one more hesitant to do that. I want to be 100% certain that we are heading in the right direction the direction that we are supposed to go. I don't want doubts or second thoughts and I want to minimize the potential heartbreak, to be honest.

There are several places we are interested in adopting from. My heart feels like it is being pulled in many directions. The issue is figuring out what we are supposed to do first. There are definitely some top contenders, though. Here's a little bit about them.

The United States

I'm not interested in being the parent of a newborn. If our first child "comes from" around here, it will be a foster care adoption. I have worked with foster kids at the library and volunteering with a group home in the area. I care about these kids. I hate the fact that they're often forgotten- especially the older kids. I think that at least one of our kids will be adopted from foster care. We're just not sure if the first one will be, at this point. One thing to consider would be our preferred age group. Brandon thinks it's a good idea for our first foray into parenthood to be with a younger child- pre-kindergarten. I'd be fine with up to age 8 or 9, though. But it is true that most of the kids in foster care are a little bit older than 3 or 4. Several of them are in sibling groups. Again, I'd love to go ahead and adopt two or three kids at once, but Brandon feels more prepared to take on one kid to start with. And I'm fine with that. I'm glad he has an opinion! :) And really, the ultimate goal is to adopt the child that you have the best ability to parent. Random book recommendation: check out Nia Vardalos's book Instant Mom. It's beautiful. And while you're at it, stop by the US foster kids website and pray for the kids there who are waiting for a permanent home.

India

Ohhhh, India. If you follow my other blog, you may have picked up on my love for India. I've been captivated by the culture since I was a little kid, and saw/read "The Secret Garden" and "A Little Princess" for the first time (which is weird because those are actually books about colonial times there. Still, it's what got me started.) I love India. Love it love it love it. I have so much respect for the people and the culture while at the same time routinely have my heart broken by the plight of kids there, particularly girls. I am getting choked up just thinking about it. I am pretty determined to get to India and bring home a child from there. I'd love to sign them up for cultural classes here in my city, like dance classes, and go out to eat at the Indian restaurants as a family, and try to go back to their home country for a visit every few years. The thing about India, though, is that there are levels of preference for adoptive parents. I read one blogger describe it as its own sort of caste system, but I think saying that minimizes the struggles of those actually living in India's lower castes. Anyway. The top tier is Indian parents living in India. The second tier is Indian parents living outside of India. The bottom tier is everyone else, everywhere else. So the wait might be longer. And it's my understanding that we'd have to be willing to accept a slightly older child or a child with more severe special needs (there will be another post coming up about that!) We'll see how things work out, though.

Haiti

I love Haiti. I love supporting Haiti. I pray for Haiti. I hope that I get to go there someday, whether or not we have a child from there. My interests in Haiti was sparked after the 2010 earthquake, and I am absolutely in love with my little buddy A, who was adopted from there. I think I've prayed for him and about his homecoming more than anyone else in my life. He's been home for almost two years now! I like following the children's home he used to stay at and supporting as many Haitian ministries as I possibly can. Haiti's adoption process takes a loooong time (it's gotten longer and more complicated in recent years) and there is an age requirement for applicants. We're almost old enough now, though, so that might not be a deciding factor in the end. I recommend you check out Children of the Promise, where A lived, and pray for the team there as well as all the precious little babies. I love looking at them. And I love the fact that COTP's primary focus is on keeping families united- many "orphanages" would just go ahead and take a sick child brought in by a parent unable to pay for medical care and put them up for adoption. But COTP's goal is to help the birth family first, and they help the kids get healthy so they can go back home. And that's really neat.

I'm not really going to rule any country out at this point, because if we are truly called to go some place, then that's where we'll go. I can tell you that I am pretty confident that it won't be Eastern Europe, though, or many of the countries in South and Central America. I still care about the kids there and am praying for them, but I don't think we are meant to go there. And there are a couple of countries that I'm starting to look into and read about and see what comes up- countries that hadn't really been on my radar before, like Thailand and Taiwan. We'll see where we land!

Please join me in praying for guidance and discernment. Pray that God will make our path abundantly, blazingly bright and clear, so that we can move forward with confidence and a sense of peace.