There is a section of this blog that deals with my two miscarriages. Those times were motivating our foster parenthood.
I don't admit this outloud but Mr. Hall has- so there we are.
It was a good Easter weekend this weekend. Traveling, family and sometimes some cold hard truth. Mr. Hall had enough libation to let me know he's tired. Worn through. Tired of foster baby mama drama and wanting our little foster daughter to transition to help her heal. She needs to move on and heal because here she is in limbo. Mr. Hall said it outloud...we aren't the right or for real family for her. Our foster daughter has been with us for a long time. Two years. It's been a looooooooooong two years.
Foster kids stay with foster families for 17 months on average. The bioparents have a long time to get their act together. Sometimes they can't. And for this, I try to extent mercy. I feel bad they're trapped in their addictions, mental illness and plain old selfishness. I get angry too. Two years later and we're still getting angry phone calls about not doing her baby's hair right. Because hair ya'll.
During the miscarriages, Mr. Hall and I leaned on each other. We cried and held each other. I was going nuts inside and so was he. We took a break from trying for more babies. Stop for six months he said. So six months it was. I went on birth control and we went about our life. Six months later he got me rip roaring drunk and asked what I wanted. I told him I wanted to try again. He did too. So we had our baby.
A few times a week I marvel at our now toddler. His perfect symmetry. I think about his DNA being knitted together in my womb. How it all went right and he was born so perfect. I think about the babies I lost and how the DNA didn't mesh together right and they were lost to this world. They were still alive though. They are still my babies and I'll see them in Heaven.
I think about this and my craziness with the foster kids. It is a tough gig ya'll. It is a strain. It affects all my family. These kids and their bioparents are work!
Mr. Hall wrote our social worker and gave 5 paragraphs of feelings about all of this. Mr. Hall has reached his limit and he wants a break. But, unlike going back on birth control to stop the madness, transitioning a foster child is not so easy.
There are options and we'll take it slow. We can't hurry any of this. Hopefully her family will step up. Hopefully it'll be done in a few months. Hopefully. For her and for us. If not, we'll just keep on keeping on.
Then, we'll break. I'll crossfit and weight watchers just like I am now. Then six months will go by. Then Mr. Hall will get me drunk and we'll discuss the next step. It won't be trying for another baby. Mr. Hall had the surgery which shall not be named when I was pregnant last.
I want no mistaking my intention though. I am not done growing this family. I have a need for more than three. I am selfish and demanding with this. I want to adopt and it's ok if it's a sibling group. I am blinded by this. I am crazy howling at the moon crazy about this.
I want to adopt so I can be done. So I can feel complete. So I can take these kids and make them our own. So I can be done with the bioparents if I want to. Adopting from the foster system is not easy. I'm sure it's not easier than caring for a child for two years and then sending them on. But it's in me this need. The call is unrelenting.
Like I said, crazy howling at the moon about this.