I'm sitting the in driveway right now, watching my 3 little men race their cars around and around. Every once in a while, they will stop to switch vehicles. It's a precious and comforting ending to one of the hardest days our family has had. Today, we said goodbye to our sweet Little Miss.
People often ask how we deal with watching our little ones leave our home to go back to be with their families. This is our first experience having a child leave our home, so I wanted to be sure to write about it. Her leaving has left our hearts heavy. There is a piece missing in our family. I imagine how we feel is like going to hear an orchestra play, only to find out that the flute section is missing. The music may still sound beautiful, but there is something noticeably absent.
When I tried to picture what this day would look like, I pictured lots of crying. I have most definitely cried, but it hasn't been the torrent I expected. Maybe it's because we knew this day was coming. Maybe it's because I've cried so much over the last few weeks. Maybe it's because we're still a little numb. I don't know. I do know that God is still good, He has a plan, and that we don't regret loving our little girl. I would do it all over again.
In the hours since we gave our last kisses, I already miss the sound of her giggles and coos. I catch myself looking for her rolling around on the playroom rug. It's the little things that get to me most- the last bottle in the dishwasher, pink things still scattered around the house, sounds that remind me of her. I suppose when you love deeply, you grieve deeply.
It's very true that the world doesn't stop when you're hurting. That has really irked me in the past. Now, though, I'm glad. My big boys have told me they're sad and miss their sister, but they don't let those feelings keep them from riding their bikes, saying "I love you," or devouring their dinner. Sweet moments of being a wife and mom are still sweet. I wish so much that she could be here to star in and share those moments, but I have to trust that God's plan for her is bigger, sweeter, and more perfect than the ones I would make for her. That hope (even when I don't really feel it), is what keeps us going. It's what gives us strength and peace to keep loving on hurting kids and making a safe home for them. It's what enables us to lay our family on the altar. We know that His ways are higher and better than ours.
Thursday, July 21, 2011
Thursday, July 14, 2011
It's been a roller coaster ride over the past few days. I've cried, had trouble sleeping, and experienced sweet joy.
Court was set for 9 am this morning. I kept checking my phone for a text or call to find out how things went. Finally, about 11:30, I learned that we don't have to say goodbye to our precious little one today. Apparently, the judge did not have the all the information she wanted and decided not to rule today. The case will be reviewed again next week. We are so thankful that God has answered our prayer that the judge would have every piece of truth before she made her decision. We know this means more waiting, but we gladly keep waiting if it means we can treasure more snuggles, smiles, and precious moments with our littlest one.
Court was set for 9 am this morning. I kept checking my phone for a text or call to find out how things went. Finally, about 11:30, I learned that we don't have to say goodbye to our precious little one today. Apparently, the judge did not have the all the information she wanted and decided not to rule today. The case will be reviewed again next week. We are so thankful that God has answered our prayer that the judge would have every piece of truth before she made her decision. We know this means more waiting, but we gladly keep waiting if it means we can treasure more snuggles, smiles, and precious moments with our littlest one.
Monday, July 11, 2011
Packing List
Chad will tell you that one of my least favorite things to do in the whole world is to pack. Whether it's for a short trip or packing up our whole house before we move, I really don't like packing. I don't want to choose before hand what I'm going to wear, and I almost always forget something (diapers, shoes, etc.) I feel overwhelmed at the thought of cramming all the "essentials" into one or two bags. If they sold Mary Poppins bags on Etsy, I would buy one.
Today, I started another packing list. I've made 2 over the last week and half for family trips, but this one is much different. It is without a doubt the hardest packing list I've ever made. I pulled down my yellow legal notepad and started listing all the things I need to send with our baby girl when she leaves this week. It breaks my heart to even type that.
We've known from the day she came that she was mostly likely going to be reunited with her family. I've spent the past 6 months praying and hoping that she would be able to stay. I even had a dream a month or so ago that her family gave her to me to raise. I've wondered so many times where the line is between hope and denial. I think I've crossed back and forth over it. We learned a few weeks ago that there was a 99.9% chance that she would be leaving on the 14th, and since then I've felt pretty numb about it. Maybe numb isn't the right word. I thought maybe it was peace, but I'm not sure about that either. I've cried, prayed, and talked about it with Chad, friends and family. I think we're at a point of acceptance. That does not mean we are ok with what's happening. We know there really isn't anything else we can do. We have to trust that God knows His plans for this precious baby, and that His plans are far better than the ones we can make for her. I struggle so much with that. It's like there's a constant war waging in my heart.
We went to see my family this past weekend, because my extended family had never met our little girl. She delighted everyone. My parents are keeping the big boys for a week, and Chad and I had to tell them that their baby wouldn't be at our house when the come home. They had to say goodbye. My parents, sister, and extended family also had to say goodbye. I am so thankful that her little heart doesn't hurt like mine does.
I've been suddenly overcome by all the "lasts" of this week- our last weekend as a family of 6, the last time we'll have lunch with Daddy, and the last time I'll fold some of her tiny clothes. Some people would say it's because I got too attached or because this is our first foster baby to leave, but it's more than that. It's even more than the emotional bond we have from spending so many days in the hospital. God brought her to me when I needed some help seeing joy in life. He has used her to help me smile when missing my sister made me want to cry. Not for one second do I regret loving her. I tell her every day that wherever she is, I will love her.
There is no way I could ever pack all of our memories into a box to send with her. She is too precious and has meant to much to us to even try. Nevertheless, I have started a packing list because I want her to go home with what she needs, and I don't mean just clothes and things like that. I mean I want her to know without a doubt that Jesus loves her. That truth is the greatest thing we could ever send with her.
Today, I started another packing list. I've made 2 over the last week and half for family trips, but this one is much different. It is without a doubt the hardest packing list I've ever made. I pulled down my yellow legal notepad and started listing all the things I need to send with our baby girl when she leaves this week. It breaks my heart to even type that.
We've known from the day she came that she was mostly likely going to be reunited with her family. I've spent the past 6 months praying and hoping that she would be able to stay. I even had a dream a month or so ago that her family gave her to me to raise. I've wondered so many times where the line is between hope and denial. I think I've crossed back and forth over it. We learned a few weeks ago that there was a 99.9% chance that she would be leaving on the 14th, and since then I've felt pretty numb about it. Maybe numb isn't the right word. I thought maybe it was peace, but I'm not sure about that either. I've cried, prayed, and talked about it with Chad, friends and family. I think we're at a point of acceptance. That does not mean we are ok with what's happening. We know there really isn't anything else we can do. We have to trust that God knows His plans for this precious baby, and that His plans are far better than the ones we can make for her. I struggle so much with that. It's like there's a constant war waging in my heart.
We went to see my family this past weekend, because my extended family had never met our little girl. She delighted everyone. My parents are keeping the big boys for a week, and Chad and I had to tell them that their baby wouldn't be at our house when the come home. They had to say goodbye. My parents, sister, and extended family also had to say goodbye. I am so thankful that her little heart doesn't hurt like mine does.
I've been suddenly overcome by all the "lasts" of this week- our last weekend as a family of 6, the last time we'll have lunch with Daddy, and the last time I'll fold some of her tiny clothes. Some people would say it's because I got too attached or because this is our first foster baby to leave, but it's more than that. It's even more than the emotional bond we have from spending so many days in the hospital. God brought her to me when I needed some help seeing joy in life. He has used her to help me smile when missing my sister made me want to cry. Not for one second do I regret loving her. I tell her every day that wherever she is, I will love her.
There is no way I could ever pack all of our memories into a box to send with her. She is too precious and has meant to much to us to even try. Nevertheless, I have started a packing list because I want her to go home with what she needs, and I don't mean just clothes and things like that. I mean I want her to know without a doubt that Jesus loves her. That truth is the greatest thing we could ever send with her.
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