A "Know"ing Rant

** Disclaimer: This rant is not aimed at anyone in particular or due to anyone's specific comment to me. It is a collection of thoughts I've had since our journey began almost five years ago, and another five years prior to that, if you count the PCOS issues. Please, if you think I'm writing out my very raw feelings here in response to something you've said to me, please know that's not true. This blog is a place for me to put my feelings and I love and cherish the support you give me - through constructive criticism or pure empathy, whether you've lived a portion of it yourselves or not - I love it all and I love you. This rant is personal and not due to anything anyone has said. **

Begin rant...

I know there are people out there - wonderful people, far better people than little ol' me - fostering and parenting and jumping through more hoops than I'll ever see to make their family "legal" in the eyes of the government. I know that. But does knowing that and, better yet, empathizing with that, make my journey any less painful for me?

I love the support I receive from the friends and family who give it... I cherish it and thank God for all He's given me in the people in my life. I also thank God and am humbled every day for the children He's entrusted me to care for and raise with the best of my ability to know and love Him and to be good stewards here on this earth. I thank Him for the most wonderful husband a girl could ever ask for. I thank Him for parents who gave me a happy, carefree childhood and who stood together through the test of time to show me what marriage and parenting really is. I even thank Him for my infertility... okay, maybe I've only thanked Him a couple of times for that one; more often than not, I still shake my fist at Him over that one.

I know what a good life He's blessed me with. I know I could always have it worse. When I'm really hating on my PCOS and infertility, I start my little mantra: It could always be worse. I could have cancer. I could have a disease that doesn't allow me to move, or see, or hear, doesn't allow me to experience the gloriousness of this world. I could have been victim to horrible abuses. I could have never "found" a husband, a godly man who loves me more than life. I could have, I could have, I could have...

I know it could be worse. And I knew what we could have been up against in our adoption journey. The very reason we didn't go into fostering with the intent to foster and see if it could lead to adoption is because of all the CPS and government regulated bullcrap that foster parents have to deal with. Children's best interest? BullCRAP! I grew up experiencing first-hand foster, and more specifically, ICWA bureaucracy...on an Indian reservation, for crying out loud. I knew my heart wouldn't be able to handle that. I know I'm weak. I know I play the "why me, Lord" card all too often when I'm feeling sorry for myself.

KNOWing all those things doesn't make our journey any easier for us to deal with. It's OUR journey, and knowing it could be worse like so many others, doesn't make our hearts ache any less. It does make us step back and thank God once again for not having it any more difficult than we do, and for giving us the resources to be able to deal with it all (emotionally and physically). But our hearts still ache.

Still Waiting

I'm going to post a complete update on information we've been withholding from everyone excluding a select few. It's just getting so old now and I'm tired of answering questions so I'm just going to lay it all out on the line.

These past 2 1/2 months have been wrought with many feelings, highs and lows. We celebrated 6 months with the kids on my birthday, which was just about the only happy thing I felt that day. Six months meant we were finished with the initial required waiting period and we could then go on to finalize the adoption. Our workers took a couple of weeks before they got all the paperwork together to send in to the state and, because the kids' worker had an "in" at the state, I guess they were rushed through a bit faster than normal.

In late September, we went to a Permanency Hearing for the kids, which was just a necessary step to complete in the foster/adopt journey, more paperwork if you will. The judge looked happy to see us, though we didn't say a word, and smiled at us numerous times while looking through the photo album we had made of the kids' first 6 months with us.

This was a good step, too, because in late July, we had received notice from the kids' worker there was a bio-aunt who came forward and wanted to take the kids. Their tribe was threatening to petition for jurisdiction over the kids. And then... nothing. No follow-through. No communication. Nothing.

Then, lo and behold, we got our adoption paperwork back from the state October 13th. On October 15th, we bundled the kids up and rushed into town to do some notary work and then I rushed to the courthouse to file our petition for an adoption hearing! Yay! We should be a LEGAL family of five by early November! Woohoo!

After I filed my petition and paperwork and paid our fees, I got home to an email and phone call saying to halt everything. The tribe's ICWA specialist called after a 3-month hiatus stating the bio-aunt still wanted the kids. I broke. After the initial news in July, I broke down but only for the rest of the day. It had been during the same week as Uncle M's death and funeral and emotions were already running at maximum so I felt more tears were warranted. I recovered and dealt with it fine after that, though. But this time... after we'd made it through all those extra hoops, I really broke.

I finally confided in a few friends about our situation because there was obviously something wrong with me and I wasn't holding it together very well. You know what I heard? Not from everyone but from just a few? Yep... those same ol' cliches... "What's meant to be will be." "God won't give us more than we can handle." "You knew there might have been this risk." "All the bumps in the road will be worth it in the end."

"Excuse me?" I wanted to shout!! "Are you at risk of losing all your children?! NO? Then shut up!" But did I do that? No, because I think I tend to be a very nice people-pleasing person so I just nodded and smiled a little, said thanks for keeping us in your prayers. And honestly, we all view life's situations from different perspectives and I've really been trying to keep that in mind. But I'll be honest in saying that 5 years of journeying through infertility and now through this mess has really made the very open book type person I was start to clam up something fierce. The word "fine" has entered my daily vocabulary. Anyway...

We were told the state attorney was going to file for a status hearing and present the latest information to the judge so we could proceed with the adoption without looking like we were hiding information. Okay, that makes sense. Then...

Apparently the tribe's attorney hadn't been privy to any of the information and only knew there was a bio-relative who wanted the kids and they thought that would be in the best interest of the kids. The tribe's ICWA specialist hadn't shared any info with the tribal attorney about the bio-aunt coming forward FOUR different times in the more than 2 years since the kids were removed from their birthparents... and never following through with the necessary steps to actually show she was serious about taking them. The ICWA specialist didn't even remember approving us an ICWA placement due to my tribal heritage and hadn't given any of the communications to the bio-aunt that we sent with that specific purpose. The tribal attorney had been lacking information and they were then presented with all of it with an invitation to appear at the status hearing (which we still hadn't received a date for yet) to state their desire to petition for jurisdiction or, since having received the complete history, not petition at all, which is what we were hoping for.

Ten days after the tribal attorney received all the information and we still hadn't received any notice about anything, I called the kids' worker again and she told me the state attorney had, in fact, NOT filed for a status hearing as she decided to wait and see what the tribal attorney would do. We weren't aware of that; neither was our kids' worker. Now that the tribal attorney has had time to make decisions or movement of any kind and hadn't done anything, the state attorney apparently decided they were just going to move forward with actually requesting a status hearing... I waited all last week for a date. Come today and we find out the state attorney had done NOTHING they said they were going to do and is supposedly going to file for it this week.

Who the heck knows? I've now been given the regional administrator's name and number and I phoned him this afternoon. We'll see if he can light a fire under the attorney's butt. Seriously, how hard can it be to file for a status hearing? (And yes, after saying that, I realize I don't work in the judicial system and I thank God for that... I'd go more insane than I do working in healthcare! I also thank God for all the work this attorney IS doing for us.)

So it's 9 months later and 3 months past where we needed to be to finalize everything and we're not any closer to being legal than we were before we brought them home. There is still a chance it can happen before the end of the year... I'm now hoping in time for Christmas when it should've been before Halloween.

Our legal systems (both federal and tribal) are definitely not set up with the kids' best interests at heart... which we knew beforehand... but now that we're living it, we're even more livid at the injustice of it all. As it's National Adoption Month and everyone's making pleas on the plight of children, please remember all the kids out there waiting still who haven't even been placed, much less adopted. Adoption isn't for everyone, I do know that, but it's something everyone should support in one way or another. Every child deserves a family who will love them unconditionally and give them a safe place to grow up.

UPDATE: I wrote this Monday night (11/15) after the news that the attorney had still not filed for the status hearing. I just got an email that she finally filed. Now we just wait for the date. And then, hopefully soon, we can file our own motion for the adoption hearing! And yes, I know how everyone's plates are full and we're not the only situation our state attorney has to deal with. I'm really trying to remember that. The thing that made us mad is that we were continually told she was going to be moving forward when she did nothing of the kind... until yesterday.

7 Years

Seven years ago, I went out on my very first date with Gil. We went to the Te.xas Roa.dhouse. I had a chicken critter salad and he had steak kabobs... nothing that should have warranted a three-hour dinner! We just couldn't stop talking with each other so we continued the talking for an additional three hours afterward.

That first year of dating brought many happy moments, followed by some very drastic not-so-happy moments. Three days after our first date anniversary, he asked for a second chance. I have to say how very thankful I am that I so totally believe in second chances. It's been nothing but heaven ever since.

Here's a picture taken 3 weeks after we started dating, our first picture taken as a "couple".


Seven years... and no signs of an itch!!

National Adoption Month 2010

November is National Adoption Month and, as you should know by now, adoption is near and dear to my heart. Our adoption isn't yet final, due to some unforeseen circumstances, which is common when adopting from foster care. Knowing that, however, doesn't make it any easier. I'm writing an update to be posted by the end of this week on what's been going on with our adoption journey over the past two months.

In the meantime, I have some things I want to share in honor of National Adoption Month. First is this post by a fellow blogger and someone I'm honored to call a friend, though we've never met outside of cyberspace. She has two sons she adopted through foster care (with her husband) and is going through the process again to add another son or daughter (or two!) to her family. She writes about questions that all of us adoptive parents are faced with at one point or another and I just think it's good information and education to have out there. So please, go read her post.

I love the Ad Council's PSA's, "You don't have to be perfect to be a perfect parent." My all-time favorite is this one about the hamster... I still get that giggle down deep in my gut when I watch it!

Cool Riders (as in "brrr")

One Friday in early September, we had a couple of friends who wanted to rent a Har.ley and go for a ride with us, so Gil took the day off and we left after my work shift was over in the morning. M & O are looking to purchase their bike or two and are trying out different models to see which ones they want to make their own. I think O was liking the Fatboy they rode this day until he rode my King home!

We bundled up as it was pretty chilly that day and we were going to be riding over a couple of passes. However, we were lucky enough to stay out of the path of rain (and snow) all day and it was a most fabulous day to ride! We rode through the southwestern part of the state and over roads and through valleys I've never actually been on before. We had a great ride and an even better day of hanging out with our friends. We continued the great fellowship by warming up from the mostly chilly ride with beer and pizza at their house with all six of our kids running crazy around us!

We've never had pictures of ourselves actually riding because I'm usually the one taking pictures and, uh, I haven't been brave enough to snap pictures while riding (very often!).

Me and my (soon-to-be-green) Road King.

Gil and his (slowly customizing) Fatboy.

Halfway to Seventy

Now that I've updated the events of August, a month of just being "present" and doing a bunch of fun things, I can start September, an emotional month with many high and lows and much more serious content.

The month began with my birthday which, for the past 4 years, has increasingly become more difficult. I don't mind aging, in and of itself, but it is still a reminder to me of so many things in our lives. This past year of my life brought about my first cavities and receding gumlines, my first pair of reading glasses, and my doctor's serious recommendation for a baseline mammogram. Yay! Can a person be any more excited to have any of those issues to deal with and then have them all come up the same year?! So... I have to heat my soft-bristle toothbrush with hot water prior to brushing, I have to wear my glasses as I look at a computer all day, and I got the girls squished.

But the real difficulty on my birthday is in realizing yet another year of potential fertility has passed us by. It's been over five and a half years of trying to get pregnant. I'm now in the "high risk" and "advanced maternal age" categories if I do, miraculously, become pregnant. My birthday brings with it another year of loved and cherished moments but also takes away another year of availability to try and achieve what most people take for granted. It's always a very bittersweet day and I was so thankful my husband respects my feelings and keeps things relatively subdued for me. I had a great dinner the night before my actual birthday with my parents and some really good friends... a GREAT dinner! But when I awoke the next morning, all I wanted to do was lay in bed and cry. And I did, for a bit. But then I had to wake up and make breakfast, clean, make lunch, clean, make dinner, clean... all in a day's work!

Bring on the Celts!

Towards the end of August, we went to our local Celtic Festival, where both the Scottish and Irish heritages were honored. I've never been to a fest where both were combined; it's usually one or the other and, beings as I'm both, I was really excited to go.

I was a little scared about how the kids would react to the bagpipes. They're not fans of anything really loud and Miss B kind of freaks out in really noisy, crowded situations. But our youngest, Lugnut, absolutely loved them! Miss B liked the Irish dancing and Bubba liked the kettle corn. I'm not gonna lie... that kid loves his food!

It was extra enjoyable as we spent the weekend with my parents and brother, who came and stayed overnight so we could partake in two days at the festival. My brother was upset he couldn't find a food vendor that sold haggis, as he really wanted to try it. I think he just really wanted to gross the rest of us out! But he and Gil enjoyed the whiskey, at least.

This festival was apparently the first one of its kind here. Gil and I went to the inaugural Hig.hland Games in my last place of residence, too, and though it was good, it was not near as large as this was. It had more and larger pipe bands, but the vendors were much more numerous at this one. Granted, it was both Irish and Scottish, not just Scottish, so that added to it a bit. But I think with some scheduling help, they can have quite the annual festival on their hands! It was so hard to choose what to do because they had the Irish dancing at the same time as the piping competitions which were going on at the same time as some of the Highland games. They didn't have a good program detailing the where and when and down-times were down for everything, so it wasn't possible to see all that we wanted... which was everything! As it was, I got small snippets of everything... just enough to make me frustrated I couldn't see more!

All in all, it was a great weekend and excellent family time. Totally worth it. And I cannot wait until next year's festival!

I call this the "Grand Entry" but I that's what we call it at a powwow... how about the Opening Ceremony?! I love seeing both the Scottish and Irish flags being carried.

There's few things more beautiful to me than respect shown to Old Glory... and a line of pipers wearing kilts!

I like how all the men are standing around watching this gal toss her caber. She did better than a lot of the men I watched.

Even a bit of modern Scots-Rock! Awesome.

And a pic of me... I actually think I look really good in this picture. "Good" is definitely not how I've been feeling about my physical self lately so it must be a testament to how great it is for a Celtic soul to enjoy some traditional time!!