beautiful in His time

It's always nice when there's a good ending to a story. In the beginning of 2013 our home was reopened to foster. One Tuesday in early January, with just a couple of hours notice, we were brought a toddler boy. He was a sweet little guy. He celebrated Daniel's 6th birthday with us, and we grew to love him.

He was not here for too long before DHS gave us less than an hour's notice that they were moving him to a non-relative kinship placement. It was a surprise, so we had to scramble to gather his things and say goodbye to him, as strangers came to pick him up in our living room.

Within a few months I was shocked to see this story on this news, because this toddler was that little boy:

http://www.kjrh.com/news/local-news/angela-cicone-arrested-after-toddler-son-suffers-repeated-injuries

I wept when I read this story and wondered if there was more we could have done to prevent this from happening. But by this time we had another little one in our home.

Just a few weeks ago my mom contacted the kinship foster mother who had taken this little guy from our home. He had been placed back in their home after this news story came out, and the happy news was that they will be adopting him. She emailed several pictures and we were thrilled to see how much he had grown in 1.5 years, and we were so happy to hear that he is doing well.

It was a comfort to see that God does make things beautiful in His timing. I will always remember the happy days we spent with that little guy. I will never regret loving him (though it hurt to say goodbye.) And I am so glad that life has turned out well for him.

why i will never be a plumber

I've learned to do a few basic home repairs and use some different tools. I've managed to fix a toilet, a leaky bathtub, a leaky sink, and replaced a sensor in my SUV. But I really don't enjoy it! My personality is such that if something needs to be done I'll usually watch a few youtube videos or read some how-to articles online and then give it try (and probably end up in tears before it's all done.)

It's been several years since there's been a leaky faucet in the house, but recently the kitchen sink started a slow drip. and then the slow drip became a faster drip. And the other day I finally decided the drip was getting pretty costly. So I figured it was time to refresh myself on how to fix the faucet.

I read several how-to articles online and got the courage to take the handles apart and pull out the inside thingy. I can't remember the technical names of the plumbing parts to they all become "thingys." Normally I take the parts to a plumbing supply store and they just give me what I need, since I don't know what to look for or ask for. This time though I was in a hurry to get the job done so we went to a close by hardware store instead.

Daniel came along with me to Sutherlands. When we finally found the right aisle, I was facing a whole wall of "thingys" and had no idea how to match the correct one. We pressed the call-for-help button and a store clerk came shortly and after a quick glance, told me that they didn't have the correct part. I would need to go to the plumbing supply store. So much for doing this quickly.

We drove to the plumbing supply store only to find that it was closed, I guess for the holiday weekend. Sigh. So I googled plumbing supply stores on my phone and found that the other one relatively close by had closed 26 minutes earlier!

I hadn't even gotten to fixing the faucet and I was nearly in tears! So we went to the pet store instead to get crickets to feed Allan's new frog. The day was going totally different than what I had planned.

Arriving home, I put the old parts back in until another day when I would start the process all over again and hopefully find the plumbing supply store open! (this time I'll call first)

But...oops. After putting it all back together I somehow put it together backwards so that the hot water handle turns on and off the opposite way. Two days later I haven't mustered up the interest to put it back the right way so it is driving my mom crazy. And that is why I am not a plumber.

Here's a pic from probably the last time we fixed a faucet....

 I've started several blog posts recently, had so many thoughts tumbling around but then I sit down and cannot organize them into anything that makes sense!

Just a little over 2 weeks until our next court hearing. Everything in me dreads it. I can't think of too much that I like less than being in court!

Tonight while I have the house to myself I am going through the many audio and video files I have of B in order to see if there is anything we want to use in court. I have procrastinated because it hurts so much. And if we share the recordings of her in distress, will those who want to discredit us twist it? Will they scoff at her cries?

So many nights I was up with her holding her while she cried. We begged people to listen. We invited them to spend the night or just listen to the recordings so they would know what their policies were doing to her. So they would know how fragile and needy she was. But who cared?

Following the surprise removal of B, DHS contacted us a couple of weeks later and asked if we would bring B's "belongings" to DHS--since the worker would not give us time to pack anything for her. I took them to the downtown office last week. I asked for some kind of explanation for the manner of removal and I got no direct answer. It turns out that the answer I was given was not true anyway. The next day I was able to see emails that were exchanged within DHS which gave me the answers to my questions and confirmed that what the worker had told me the day before was false.

After breaking down into tears in the DHS lobby, and begging the worker to tell me why, and getting no real answer, she looked at the bag of Brooklyn's "belongings," including new clothes and a new toy I had bought on the way and said "is this all?" I had prayed during the days leading up to my visit at DHS that God would help me to love and forgive, that He would give me meekness and humility. Heaven knows I've shared my opinion many times already! And it's a good thing I prayed those prayers because when she asked that question with a smirk "is this all?" my natural self would have wanted to rip into her and tell her what I thought of her question and they way they handled B's case. But I didn't. Somehow I had the grace to hold my tongue and trust that if I hold on to love that what is true will prevail.

But it's ok. God knows. And this is not over. I don't know the end of the story and I don't know when I will see B again but the prayers have not been in vain. I am still believing God for something big, something that will shake the child welfare system up because I hear too many stories--another one today--of how it is broken.

In the middle of these hard, hard weeks I still have hope.

fight with love

Another hearing regarding Miss B is in exactly one month. The days are full with Daniel's activities and my efforts to maintain some normalcy and get into a summer schedule.

My heart still hurts constantly, although some days I have no tears and other days I wake up with tears and go to bed with tears. I dreamed about B for the first time last weekend while we were out of town. On the one hand I was delighted to hold her again in my dreams, but it was like saying good-bye all over again when I woke up. Although I never really did get to say good-bye.

I still can't look at her closet or watch videos. Sometimes I can talk about her other times it just makes me cry.

Through the intense stress of the last year and the seeming lack of justice on B's behalf I have struggled immensely with my emotions towards those who have caused so much pain. I believe in justice and there is nothing on earth that brings the fight out in me as much as a baby or child. A baby is so incredibly helpless and depends on others to provide safety, nurture, and love.

Everything in me has wanted to find a way to take revenge, to hate, to refuse forgiveness and to wish all the evil returned back to those who have shown disregard for B.

This past week I read one book about love and now I am currently reading a book by Shane Claiborne titled "Jesus for President." It is rocking my world. I can't try to summarize it here but every page is speaking to me. It is a reminder that we are dealing with the world's system of power; it is man's system and it has become corrupt. It is of this world, not of the kingdom of God and many of the people working in it have become blind to love or compassion.

As I was praying tonight this phrase came to mind: fight with love. I get the fight part...but I've fallen way short on the love part. In fact there are some people that I cannot imagine ever loving. (and the feeling is probably mutual.) I've spend most of my life feeling like I never had enemies, I like most people and if I don't like them I just avoid them. But I haven't been able to avoid people in this situation and I cannot imagine going into another hostile court situation. In fact I can't go into a hostile court situation when my own heart is so unloving.

I'm still sorting through all of this because I still pray for justice for B and I hate what "the system" has done to her. Yet I'm asked to love my enemies and do good. God says vengeance belongs to Him but what about when vengeance doesn't come on my terms on my timetable?

It is humanly impossible for me to have a heart of love in a situation like this. I already know that. So these next weeks I will not only be asking God for miracles in the situation but I'll be asking for miracles in me for His glory.

I have heard that nothing compares to the pain of losing a child. I think it must be true.

This is grief....I am trying to enjoy the moment and make happy memories with Daniel this week, but below the surface the pain is a constant. It is never gone. Everything reminds me of Miss B. Going places without her is really hard.

Several times I have sat down with the intention of writing, but there is so much and so many emotions I don't even know how to express things.

It's been close to 2 weeks since the DHS worker took Miss B in a very cruel manner. 14 months of love ended in a hateful way with the caseworker's show of power. 

Alright people, you won. I never did this for a thank you, but even silence would have been kinder than your sneers, twisting of truth, and the pure hatred in your faces for our family. I will never understand the hate. To you she was just a file, a name on a piece of paper, a number on a docket. To me she was a fragile baby that I took home and cared for round the clock, staying up night after night, loved without holding back knowing that I was risking grief and loss. Only I didn't expect the cruelty that would accompany that loss. 

Not only did those working in the system let it be known that they hate me, and will do everything they can to make sure that I never see Miss B again, even if she is removed from her biological father's home in the future, but people that I thought I could trust have turned into back stabbers. I have seen more ugliness in human nature in the last months than I ever have wanted to see.

I am far from perfect and I have not always handled everything with grace. But to the best of my ability I try to be loyal. So the grief of having B ripped away without warning was exacerbated by the back stabbing in the days following...gossip, shunning, being unfriended and blocked on FB by people whom I had prayed for, encouraged, and would have defended and spoken up for. And for what?? I don't even know what I did wrong. I'd rather have someone tell me to my face what I've done wrong so I can make it right than to just hate, gossip, or cut me off.

Another hearing is ahead this summer, a legality to be able to finish what was started in May. It won't bring B back but it is an opportunity to get everything on record. Do I want to face those people again? No. They've stuck the knife in and twisted it already, I dread giving them another opportunity to do it again. But if it can somehow make a difference for B or for another child I can do it I think.

So today we keep moving forward and when the time is right we can talk and tell the whole story.

Baby girl, I miss you more than words can say. You deserved so much more than what life handed you these last 14 months.

It's been four months since I've posted anything here. Four long months. Four of the hardest, most chaotic months of my life.

I have been stronger than I ever thought I could be for these last months. I have been optimistic even during some of the hardest days. I live life always looking for the bright spot, believing the there will be good and that God will come through.

But this fostering journey of the last 13.5 months has pushed me nearly to the breaking point repeatedly especially in the last few months. So many times I've said, "I'm done. I cannot do this anymore." And then I look at Miss B and I think I can hang on for one more day.

We have advocated, spoken out, documented, pleaded, begged....I have felt like the widow in the Bible parable who wouldn't let up asking until the unjust judge finally relented just to get her off his back. Only in this case the more we ask, the more the people within the child welfare system retaliate and do the opposite of what we ask. I have never, ever interacted with so many cruel, heartless, and twisted people. Sometimes I feel like they must be insane because no rational person thinks the way they do.

Tonight I looked at my one miracle lying in his bed, and I held little B as she was sleeping and couldn't hold back tears anymore. Some days I feel like I'm hanging by a thread of hope that things will turn out well for her, that she won't be one of the thousands that are crushed by the foster system. I would do anything to protect her and would take her place in a heartbeat if I could. But that love that only wants the best for a child is scorned in child welfare and twisted to be something evil.

But is hope in there. There are a handful of advocates for B who are doing everything they can to ensure the very best, and safest situation for her. We have a hearing in a couple of weeks in which our attorney hopes to bring out truth for the judge to hear.

And in the meanwhile, we document and document and document some more. And we hope and we pray.

Perhaps the biggest battle has been not letting the ugliness of it all crush me. If I keep my eyes on God and His promises and His Word then evil cannot win. But that is a tough battle for me to fight.

Tonight two little ones are safe in their beds and are at peace. So tonight all is well. Trusting that I can put B in God's capable hands and that I will have strength to keep going one day at a time!

tired.

I faintly remember what it is like to sleep a full night--or at least something more than 3 consecutive, uninterrupted hours! I thought I was exhausted during Daniel's case; maybe time has softened the memories, but I feel like my current baby's case is 50x harder. Daniel's was emotionally exhausting. Miss B's is emotionally exhausting but it is also physically exhausting.

Every night involves her waking up multiple times. On a good night it will be 2 or 3 times with a bottle and back to sleep. On a bad night it means her crying out every hour. I cannot divulge specifics of the case, but I will say it is not just because she is a poor sleeper or hasn't learned how to sleep. I'm not an advocate of "crying it out" anyway but even if I were, I don't believe that method would help a fragile baby like Miss B. Substance-exposure in utero and the happenings of the last 9.5 months of her short life have, I believe, contributed to the difficulties she faces with sleep and otherwise.

But who in the system cares? She is just one of thousands. She appears to most to be a happy, sociable, healthy baby girl. She is all those things but she also has huge, huge needs. I have wished so many times that the judge, the caseworker, the attorneys, the therapists, SOMEONE would come spend the night and be the one to see get up with her and see her distress. Or to see the dark circles emerge under her eyes when she cannot settle to take decent naps. Maybe then they would understand, care, listen, not look at us like we are crazy or that maybe we are the problem.

Foster parents learn though experience. We have training and have to keep up training hours every year. I studied psychology in college and have continued studying and reading on my own. But I have found the best teacher is experience. Textbook learning cannot compare to knowing a child inside and out and learning to read their cues. But in the child welfare world the foster parent is often silenced. There are some that listen but everything we say must be validated by an expert and sometimes the experts have never lived with a traumatized child. 

The frustration is so great when I just want justice for a child and no one seems to care. Or they put their own slant on things. Or they question what we say.

If I did not believe that God sees all things, knows all things, and was the defender of the weak, a just and merciful God, I would be done and without hope.

But because I know He is, I will choose to have hope. And ask for strength each day!