Prayer and Praise

We made it back to Mimi's with Mason, our newest edition, to introduce him to his big brother. Everyone was smitten with him and took turns looking him over and taking him in. After this brief introduction, we did as my friend, Christy, suggested and headed to the church for family prayer night. The shock on the faces of our friends as we walked into church with Timothy AND a carrier... Priceless! The questions swarmed as many had no idea what our day had been like and that, not only had we almost lost Timothy, but we brought home his newborn brother. The ones who knew, and had prayed for us, wiped away tears as they heard us retell it. Timothy was in the nursery and Mason slept sound in his carrier next to us. Another moment in God's plan of making me mommy.

I have no idea what other prayer requests were brought forward that night, but we went up with Mason and asked for our church to pray for our changing family and the fear we still faced of potentially losing Timothy in a few weeks. I took Mason with us in the carrier, when another sweet friend, Jenny, whispered, "You can take him out and hold him.". "I can?", I asked so sheepishly it's almost embarrassing admitting how unsure of 'how to be' with a newborn I really was. So, I once again with trembling hands, took him from the carrier and held him against myself while our dearest friends prayed God's blessings and promises over us. It was a powerful moment. The emotional release while they prayed, when I processed what all we had been through that day. How God had worked in our favor and the protection of our sons. I realized, that while these visits, intended to transition Timothy, were a hurdle that would be hard to get over, HIS faithfulness to us was unchanging. And, although we could absolutely not interfere with the transition, I was comforted by the same overwhelming sense we'd had five months before, that these boys would be ours.

After getting help from Mimi and my Gram in learning how to bathe a newborn...again I ask, where are the instructions?!...we said goodnight to everyone, got the boys to bed, now singing to two boys the same bedtime song, and took our first deep breath of the day. We cried. We held on to each other and agreed to hold tight to our faith, no matter what happened. We promised to continue to love with reckless abandon and to trust in the same God who saw fit to bring these boys to us, that His timing and His plan was perfect and that we had to believe this with our whole heart. What good would it do if we did adopt them someday, to look back and say we guarded our hearts, or that we didn't have faith? The same God...and He is worthy.

Mason with his Great Gram

The Rest of 'The Hardest Day'

That call from Scott at 3:00 caused my heart to sink. I had this thought that maybe we wouldn't get to this point. That my procrastination...or perhaps better said, refusal... had proven wise and I wouldn't have to pack his things. I wouldn't have to load him in the van, appropriately named Timothy's Van since we did what many new parents do and bought a kid friendly vehicle a week after he came. I wouldn't have to walk inside the courthouse with him and his favorite things and hand him off to these grandparents. I would be able to go back home with him and get dinner started and move on as if that call had never come. But that wasn't what was happening. Scott said our case was soon and I needed to get him there. So I cried some more, as if my legs were full of lead and my arms too heavy to lift him, I just sat there. I sat with my mother-in-law, Norma...Timothy's Mimi...and we watched him. Without realizing it, 30 minutes had passed and my phone rang again. I knew Scott would be frustrated with me for not doing what he asked, so I answered with, "We're about to leave, I'm sorry." He said, "It's ok. Don't come. Things have changed."

Again, with the falling to the floor, I cried "Really?! Is he staying?" Scott, in an effort to stay calm, said, "Hush baby, I need to tell you something. He will have weekend visits with the grandparents for four weeks as a transition for everyone, then will move." Although I was overjoyed I would not have to take Timothy that moment to leave us, I wasn't quite thrilled with this news either, but Scott, not letting me argue or get a word in edge wise, said, "There's more. His biological mother had another baby and we're picking him up at 5:00." "Oh Scott, I don't even know what to say, what to think. Him? What's his name?" "His name is Mason. Just meet me at home, I need to see my son."

I am searching for the words to describe the shift in my heart, in my mind, in my whole body, and all I can think of is the sharpest roller coaster ever. Literally, in moments I was flooded with every possible emotion and went from a day of crying, to jumping up from the floor, spinning Timothy in the air in a rush of excitement! I grabbed Norma and screamed, "He gets to stay for now and we're getting a baby!" The tears of sadness now slowing, but replaced by tears of joy. If gladness and shock can combine in a facial expression, that's how she looked. I left her reeling in that news and ran home to meet Scott. First, we needed to hug and thank God, and then we had lots to figure out in the next hour and a half before we picked up our newest edition, Mason.

When he got home, we hugged and cried, and laughed with Timothy who was completely unaware of the days events, or that he would be meeting his baby brother in just over an hour. With our multitasking skills kicked into full gear, we simultaneously called back those we had shared the bad news with and tried to trade it for the good news. Understandably, everyone was a little confused and wanted more details, but this wasn't the time...too much to do in an hour to prepare for the arrival of a newborn. AHHH! A newborn!?!  We left Timothy with Mimi so we could more quickly make it through the store then back to the cabinet in time to pick Mason up.

Again, I say, an hour. Not a day, week, or as in most cases, nine months....an hour. And neither of us had ever had a newborn so we really had NO idea what we needed, or what we were getting into! I knew who could help... our friends, who had a couple baby girls. Christy could give me an idea of what I should get to make this easier, so I dialed her from the store. As quickly as I could, I relayed the events of the day finally making it to the point of my call....what do I need for a newborn? This girl, my sweet friend, Christy, with a daughter about Timothy's age and a pretty, new baby girl, who has a wealth of parenting knowledge and, in my opinion, one worthy to share advice, laughed at me! She laughed! I was confused at first, but then it settled in as all she could say was, "Oh Julia. Julia, you have no idea." I can still hear the compassion in her voice as I realized, I could buy blankets, diapers, formula, jammies and a bink, but we really had no idea. She said we should bring him by the church as they were having a family prayer night and we could talk more then. So, totally not reassured, we ran through the store grabbing the items we knew we needed and headed to the cabinet.

These exchanges are sometimes funny. I expected mounds of paperwork and instructions...don't babies come with instructions? But instead, while Scott signed the only required paper, they told me I could go ahead and get the baby out of their car seat and into ours. I could not believe how nervous I was! While I had never had a baby, I had babysat a ton and had held babies before, I had just never been fully and completely responsible for one. With uncertainty I unbuckled the tiniest little guy I had ever seen, and having no idea the right way to take him out of this car seat, I rolled him forward a little into my hands. I was afraid they'd be watching and not let us take him if I didn't do it right! I pulled his blanket over him as it was a typical, cold February night, and lowered him into the car seat strapped into our van. I crawled in next to him and finally looked at him. My goodness, another baby. And just like that my heart burst with love for him and I felt as we had about Timothy....he's never leaving.

Mason, 48 hrs old





The Hardest Day

Just a couple weeks later, on Monday, February 22, of 2010 we received a call from Timothy's social worker that we had a court date on Wednesday. With no other details, we were unsure what to make of it. The next day, he called back to let us know a grandparent had come forward and said they might want Timothy. As far as the foster care system is concerned, a placement with a family member is success. As far as we were concerned, well, you can imagine. We were scared, hurt, worried for Timothy....why did it take this grandparent five months to decide they wanted him? So many fears flooded our mind, but we decided to not panic and see what they said at court the next day. Then, Wednesday morning, at 7:30am, as we were about to leave for work, my phone rang. It was our social worker calling to make sure we knew that the point of court that afternoon was to move Timothy from care to the paternal grandparents. A lump swelled in my throat as the image of Timothy fighting to not go on the visits filled my mind and now he was being sent to live with this man's parents. The cabinet had looked into the grandparents and, although their own children had been removed to foster care years before, approved them to take Timothy. Even typing this, my breath catches and my heart skips a beat. I thanked her then hung up and, Scott knowing something was majorly wrong, grabbed me before I fell to the floor in a heap of tears. Being the strong, thoughtful man he is, he stepped into action deciding first that we would take separate cars to work so he could leave and go to court and I would go get Timothy after work. While on the drive, he would call Timothy's GAL (the child's court appointed attorney) to inform him of the situation, fill him in on Timothy's behavior on visit weekends and plead for him to take action on Timothy's behalf, and I would call my Gram, who lives with us, and the rest of our family to let them know what was happening.

I had Timothy with me, so when I dropped him at the daycare with a tear streaked face and trembling knees, Ms. Callie put her arms around me and let me sob. Everyone we knew was in love with Timothy....our families, our friends, our church, our coworkers, our players, and Ms. Callie....she said she would gather his things for me to pick up that afternoon. Timothy, completely unaware of what was happening, hugged me and blew his sugar like he did every morning on his way down the hall to his room. A smile on his face and joy in his heart. The rest of my drive in to work was a combined pleading prayer that God would not let this happen and uncontrollable tears as I let those closest to us know that this would most likely be his last day with us.

I went straight to the assistant principals office when I got to work to let her know what was going on. Still unable to stop crying, she 'made' me go home. She insisted the only right thing to do would be to go get Timothy and be with him that day. I left her office so appreciative of the support we had received from so many people during this five months. I let Scott know what I was doing, we hugged hard, prayed harder, and I left to get Timothy and go home. As we played and snacked and played some more I willed time to stop. I focused on every move he made, how much he had grown and changed. The things he had learned in only five months. Just five months, but it felt like he'd always been there. My Gram came to see him, but only for a moment and she refused to say goodbye. I realized this wasn't just our hearts that were breaking.

From the first night we had Timothy I had a song I sang to him every night called Find Your Wings, by Mark Harris. At nap that day I sang these lyrics over and over as he slept, unable to lay him down. "It's only for a moment you are mine to hold. The plans that heaven has for you will all to soon unfold. So many different prayers I've prayed for all that you might do, but most of all I want to know you're walking in the truth. So if I never told you, I want you to know, that as I watch you grow, I pray that God would fill your heart with dreams. That faith would give you courage to dare to do great things. I'm here for you what ever this life brings, so let my love give you roots, to help you find your wings."

Scott had to be at court at 1:00, but then it's a waiting game for the case to be called, so we had no idea how much time we had. He called me at 1:30 to tell me I better pack Timothy's things and take him next door to his mom's house so Mimi and Papaw could say goodbye to Timothy. I took him next door to say goodbye, but I could not bring myself to pack his things. My mother-in-law and I laughed through tears as we recalled stories of the past 5 months while we watched him play. At about 3:00, Scott called again and asked if I had his things ready. He thought we would be called soon and I'd be expected to have Timothy there to, for lack of better wording, hand him over.

Playing in the snow with Momma

Daddy's little guy

Five Months Later

This time, these visits, was hard for us, for our family, and it lasted five months. Will he be safe, will he be fed, loved, cared for? But remembering it was our choice to love with reckless abandon, our choice to provide everything, including our hearts, to this baby....we prayed for him while he was gone and when we had him back, we cleaned him, fed him, and loved him.

One Sunday in February, Super Bowl Sunday actually, we were at Beth's (my sister-in-law) house watching the game with her family. As we were packing up at half-time to go home, my phone rang....it was a placement for a baby boy, either three or five months old. (It's not entirely unusual to get broken facts the first few days depending on the circumstances surrounding the child's removal.) We were moments away from the social workers office (the cabinet) and without much thought, said "Yes." We had to borrow a car seat from them since we only had one and a blanket because it was a cold, cold night and Poppy, as we called him, was not dressed for the weather. He and Timothy exchanged the funniest glances on our way home as we tried to explain to our 18 month old that Poppy would be staying with us for a while and that we would love him and care for him like he was his brother. We finally got them home and I made Poppy a fresh bottle of formula as Scott bathed Timothy. After he downed that and got his bath, that sweet baby boy slept for the next 13 hours with out making a peep. I had to check on him several times because, for one thing, he was the youngest child we had ever cared for, and another, I'd always heard babies cried a bunch at night. Not this guy! Either he was just so tired, or was finally warm, fed and comfortable enough to sleep for so long, or a combination of the two. Either way, it was wonderful. The next day we got a crib from a friend and bought a second car seat so we could return the borrowed one to the cabinet, and some warm clothes for the little man. That evening, we received a call that he would be returning home on Wednesday and that we needed to take him, with his belongings, to the courthouse at the designated time. Wow. So this is how it works? He had no belongings so we sent him home with the things we bought for him. I hadn't realized until I drove away without Poppy that he had already claimed a place in my heart. He and Timothy had played together for three days and we would all miss him.

Now we had another empty crib.....

Ordinary Life

After a while, life with Timothy became ours. We found a daycare we trusted, who loved him and was willing to work past regular hours to help us get through volleyball season. We taught, we coached, and we loved life with Timothy. But, the moments came that reminded us we were foster parents, and he was our foster son. We had monthly meetings with our social worker, paperwork to maintain, a life book to create (for the family, should he return), and then there were the visits. Oh, the visits. While sharing our story is my goal here, many details are very private. What he experienced before coming to us is not for public consumption, nor are the few details we have of his time on these visits, so forgive me for glossing over those facts. But, what I will share is from our perspective. What this time was like for Scott and I. But to do so, I need to share another very intimate moment...  About 10 days after Timothy arrived, during an average afternoon, Scott was on the couch with Timothy, no doubt watching a game and within minutes, he fell asleep and we could not take our eyes off him! To understand that this 1 year old was so 'at home' snuggled there, comfortable and loved (not because it was nap time or late at night), but knowing he belonged and was safe enough to sleep, was such a warm sight. I was in and out of the kitchen, unable to stop looking at them. My son....10 days ago we were still praying. 10 days ago we had NO idea this would happen. 10 days ago all we had was an empty crib. 10 days ago..... and I could not stop taking him in. During this sweet nap I had an overwhelming sense that he would be ours. That somehow, things would work out and we would adopt Timothy. That evening, after dinner, bath and bedtime, Scott...something obviously on his mind...came into the kitchen where I was and whispered through his tears, "He's never leaving." My own tears only allowed a simple response, "I know."

I will tell you here and now, God reassured our hearts that day, and though there would be shaky times ahead, we knew we had to hold on, to be there for Timothy, and get through whatever happened, because that's what you do for your kids.

Back to the visits, with the understanding that emotionally, Timothy was our son-- The biological family has rights throughout the foster care process until those rights are terminated. To what degree, is up to the court to decide, then the biological and foster families are required to maintain the court ordered visits through the social worker, if needed. In this case, Timothy had visits with his biological father every other weekend. Exactly how those visits went, we may never know, but we came to dread them immediately. We met him in a parking lot half way between our homes to drop Timothy off. The first time or two, Timothy went to him and they drove off without much incident. However, after that, Timothy would very literally try to claw over whoever was holding him to get away and closer to our car. He would cry, kick and scream and refuse to go. Scott finally had to put him in the car seat himself for him to go. Understand, we had no choice, or we NEVER would have parted with our son. We had the choice to have the social worker come get Timothy and take him to these visits but we wanted to be as close to the situation as we could be. Otherwise, had we interfered with these visits they would have removed Timothy from our home. We kept social services notified of his behavior, but the visits were never cancelled, therefore we continued with this every other weekend. Once he was safely buckled in, we'd drive just out of sight, our breath caught in our chest, then pull over and cry. We could hardly breathe and had only the words to ask God to protect him while he was away from us. Faith was all we had and we held to it with all our might.