Most of you know that my husband and I did foster care for a couple of years, and through that adventure, adopted our sweet baby Ace! This is his story.
We got the call on a Friday afternoon. DCFS was looking for foster parents to come up to the hospital that day to start bonding with a 6 day old baby boy who was born addicted to meth. He would need to be brought home in just two days. We weren't certified for infants and we had no crib, no carseat, no diapers, not a single article of babiness in our home. Not to mention the fact that we had to google meth to figure out what that would even mean for this situation. I felt totally unqualified and utterly clueless. Also, I really, really didn't want to change diapers again. So of course, we said yes, and headed right up to the hospital.
The nurses told us that he was very, very lethargic, but other than that, doing fine. We visited him as much as we could for the next day, but he mostly slept. I remember just looking into his tiny, unfamiliar face, wondering if we would ever be intimately connected with him. Will he be with us long term? Will some uncle or aunt come to claim him? Will his parents work things out and regain custody? I had no idea that he was my little-man soul mate and that I needed him so much.
We brought him home two days later, armed with a bassinet, tons of formula and bottles and diapers. He slept all. of. the. time. He slept all day, and all night. I was so worried about him, all of the time. I was terrified that he wasn't getting enough to eat because it was so difficult to wake him, and then he would stay awake long enough to eat much. He didn't cry much, and when he did, it was the most quiet, polite cry I'd ever heard! After about two weeks, he started staying awake longer, and by two months he was on a fairly normal schedule, although still a very "chill" baby. I was totally fine with that. By two months, he had also officially stolen my heart.
There was no contact or involvement from either parent during the first few months, despite the state's best efforts, which should have meant that his case would be considered abandonment. In that circumstance the adoption would have gone through very quickly and smoothly. But Ace had 7 different social workers within the first 8 months, and I don't think any of them was on the job long enough to move forward in any way with his case. But since we knew we were going to keep him in the long run, we tried to be understanding about the lack of progress.
But then things changed, when after he'd been with us 8 months, his mother came to the office and asked for visits. I was so shocked by the news, and quite honestly, terribly disappointed. Which of course I felt horrible for. Of COURSE I want his mother to visit with him. Of course I want her to fall in love with him and see what she's missing and do everything she can to get her life straightened out and get him back. But by then, I loved him so, so much. It was a really strange, sad feeling. The first visit, I was a nervous wreck. What if he gets hurt? What if she feeds him something weird?? I just felt a little sick. But of course, everything was fine. At one point, the visitation facilitator texted me to ask how to get him to stop crying, and I knew exactly what would would work for him, and it did. I had been afraid to let myself feel like his "mom" up until that point, but I couldn't help feeling it at that moment. :O)
Over the next few months, there were many more visits scheduled, but unfortunately his mother wasn't able to make most of them, so the visits were cancelled. The next year and a half were pretty uneventful, as far as state involvement. He was our little boy and we were his family, and things were delightfully normal. He grew at a normal, healthy rate. Learned to walk, learned lots of words, and loved his big sister and foster brother. (We had the blessing of raising another foster son for a year, who was 5 months older than Ace, but unfortunately he wasn't able to stay with us permanently.)
When Ace was 18 months, my husband and I found out that we might be moving to Indiana, which worried us a little...ok, a lot. DCFS does its best, but the parental rights still hadn't been terminated, let alone the adoption process started. We were probably looking at another year, at least, before things were finalized. The church that hired my husband wanted us there in about a month or two, so that definitely didn't add up! My husband made a bold decision to message Ace's parents on Facebook and ask them to meet with him. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a tiny bit apprehensive about the meeting. Their Facebook accounts showed involvement in some activities that left us...unsure of what type of greeting we'd recieve. But we were desperate! And amazingly, they agreed. Micah explained to them our situation and asked if they might be willing to come in to sign over their rights to us so that the adoption process could proceed. Let me tell you, that's not an easy thing to ask of a person. And I think his mother, in particular, had a bit of a hard time with it. No matter what her life situation, I'm sure a mother's heart always has a special place for the children she's born. But they said that they would! And they said that if he had to be put with another family, they were glad it was us. They probably have no idea what that's meant to me.
After the papers were signed, we all went out to dinner one last time. I loved meeting Ace's mom. She was beautiful and quite sweet, and I just wanted to hug her and not let go. As Ace's adoptive parents, we were made aware of some of his parents' family history, and it gave me such compassion for them. When we said goodbye, I hugged her again and assured her that I would always speak well of her to Ace, and that I was so very grateful for her help. We also agreed to send letters and photos occasionally.
I am so, so thankful for the blessing of getting to meet Ace's first parents. To thank them, to say that I love them, and to be able to tell Ace someday that the people he came from, while not in the best situation at that point, were kind and friendly, wanted the best for him and were happy that he was with us.
After those papers were signed, it took about 3 more months to finalize the adoption. The social workers did everything they could to expedite the process, and his adoption caseworker said that it was the quickest adoption he'd seen in his 25 years! Definitely an answer to prayer. His adoption was final just two weeks before we moved.
Some of you might be wondering...as far as any effects of the drugs that Ace had in his system...he's been pretty lucky. Drugs can affect bodies in different ways (all bad, don't do drugs!) and you just never really know what to expect. But other than the lethargy, he's had a bit of trouble with lack of oxygen and respiratory issues and slight delay in some development...that's it! The Doctors said that he may show some signs of depression/ADHD/fits of rage or things like that when he gets just a bit older...we'll face those issues lovingly and prayerfully if/when they come. Right now, he's just your average 2 year old who tests everything, wants to explore (read: destroy) everything his mother owns, and flirts shamelessly with every girl at church. :o) He's so smart, and so charming. And maybe just a little ornery. :O)
Other fun facts about our precious Ace!
Favorite food: French fries, chocolate
Favorite toy: Rocks
Favorite thing to do: Cook!
Ethnicity: Hispanic/pacific islander
Special talents: Using his dimples to control people, using the toilet, removing pants in public
I just discovered a bunch of photos from our 90's night that we had a year or two ago at our house. Hilarious!! I totally forgot how fun that night was!
I wish you guys had been there: Alanis, No Doubt, Saved by the Bell, Tiger Beat, smiley faces, gold chains, backwards caps, Erik Von Detton...we even used flash photography for authenticity.
Decade parties. Go plan one!
I also want to say:
I love you, sweet cheeks.
Have a good day. :o)
You are, actually, quite pretty.
Don't give up!
"Resist the Devil, and he will flee from you" (James 4:7)
When I was a little girl, we only got to see my dad's mother about twice a year. She called herself the "practical Grandma", but I thought visits with her were magical. Maybe it was because she always took us clothes shopping, which in my little ruffled and high-heeled mind was better than any toy store. Maybe it was the fascinating contrast between my Mom's free-spirited ways and my Grandmother's strict rules and black and white, no-nonsense outlook on things. Even her home was black and white; her furniture, her decor, her carpet...all cold and marbled and modern. Except one place. One corner of the dining room where she kept my heart's desire: the family china. Delicate, feminine, floral bone china from France, passed down from my great-great-great Grandmother. I was dazzled by it. My affinity for girly, fancy things, along with natural appreciation for family history and heirlooms drew me to that china cabinet like moth to flame, every time. My grandma would let me open the cabinet and take out a cup, then hold it up to the light to see my wiggling fingers through the other side. I thought it was more precious than the crown jewels. Of course, I knew it wasn't for me. It was always passed down to the eldest daughter, which would be my aunt. Since my aunt had no children, it would then go to my older sister.
We made one last trip to see my Grandma before we moved to Indiana, and she showed the china to Paige, who loved it as much as I always have. Then my Grandma surprised us by telling us that they decided to give it to us! I literally cried.
I loved the story behind it: my great-great-great Grandfather and his wife had all girls, so he told his wife that if she had a boy, he would buy her this set of china that she wanted. I guess that was motivation enough, because she managed a boy after that! They were Swedish, and when they came to America from Sweden, the china came with them. :)
100 years (and a couple of broken pieces) later, and her great-great-great-great granddaughter is enjoying it as much as she did. I just think that's so wonderful!
A couple of weeks ago, we unpacked the china and Paige hosted a tea party for some of the older ladies at church. It was just about the sweetest thing I've ever witnessed. She made tea and treats to serve in the china, DIY'd some decorations, and even folded the linen napkins (also passed down from our Swedish relatives!) into Roses. Then she and I took turns asking the ladies questions about what their lives were like when they were little girls. Paige learned how to host a party, and also learned some precious bits of knowledge and history. Several of the ladies even said that it was the first tea party that they had ever been to. It was such a special day!
I have to say this, though: the beautiful china was nothing to the beauty of the lives of those women that we had in our home. Scroll back up and look into their faces...you can almost see the rich memories and experiences in their eyes. Some of them grew up on farms and got up before dark every morning, some of them were the oldest of many children and were 2nd mothers to them. They had such sad stories of losing parents and spouses and loved ones, and such funny and sweet stories of how they got their husband's to first notice them and their first pets and how their families spent Christmases. It was a totally different world then.
I just wanted to share our fun day with you guys! And if you have some elderly ladies in your lives, totally invite them over for a tea party. Even if your tea comes from a plastic jug. Make it happen, you won't regret it!
Happy start to your week!! It's going to be a good one!