Monthly Archives: March 2014

“Oh, bother.”

It’s been another up and down week.

I talked with a court clerk about the court documents that would get you moved to us. She said they were signed, and moving through the system! Yea! So I sent your mommy an e-mail, with the good news.

Could be a matter of weeks, and you could be with us! Also, there’s a hearing scheduled next week concerning your birth mother. We’re trying to get ‘custodial care,’ of you . . . meaning the state is still in charge, but we get to take care of you. At the same time, we’re also trying to adopt you, so your name will be the same as ours. The hearing next week might move things along faster.

And then, a few hours after talking with the court clerk, I spoke to your social worker, and she said the paperwork wasn’t signed, and that the hearing might be delayed and everything was confused.

“Oh, bother,” Pooh says. And that’s exactly what I thought.

“Oh, help!” said Pooh. “I’d better go back.”

“Oh, bother!” said Pooh. “I shall have to go on.”

“I can’t do either!” said Pooh. “Oh, help and bother!”
We’re stuck. We can’t go back, and can’t go on. We just have to wait.

So, while we wait, we’re moving into the new house tomorrow. We’ll set up your room, first thing.

And while we wait, we’ll visit you next week. We’re flying down to see you, and we can hardly wait.

Growing quickly

We mailed you another package yesterday.

second mailing

We’ve been told you’re growing, quickly and healthily. You’re outgrowing your clothes!

It makes me sad that you’re growing out of your newborn clothes, and we weren’t with you to see it happen.

So now we’re mailing you larger clothes . . . 0-3 month clothes. We certainly hope we have you before you grow out of these.

I didn’t mail this shirt — I intend to put in on you myself.

Daddy photo

Lawyers and social workers

You turn six weeks old tomorrow, and my, what a busy amount of business going on around you.

Lawyers and social workers were in court a few days ago, to talk about you and your birth mother.

Your birth mother isn’t able to take care of you, and that’s why we want to have you come be with us, so we can take care of you for the rest of our lives.

There are other court dates ahead of us, and paper work, and home studies, and background checks, but eventually, at the end of the court dates and all the lawyer meetings, you’ll come home with us.

Six weeks - and your special bib fits perfectly!

Six weeks . . . and your special bib fits perfectly!

Day care


We visited a day care center a few days ago. (Although they call themselves a school, because they focus on learning all day.)

We saw the infant room where you would nap, and the little seat where you would sit and bounce and play for 20 minutes at a time during the day.

The infant teacher we met is from Argentina, so she speaks both English and Spanish to the babies all day. The teacher offered to help us as new parents, because we (especially me) don’t have a lot of experience with children. Our brothers all have children, you have 13 cousins on your mommy’s side and three on my side. So your mommy and I have changed diapers and fed babies, but it’s been a long time. Your mom was once a foster parent for a little boy, and she took care of him . . . but again, it was some years ago.

We really like this school and think it would be good for you. It’s walking distance from mommy’s school.

I was really overwhelmed by the school – all the colors and pictures and decorations and games and music and activities. And all the little people.

Today, you’re a little, five weeks-old baby, but much too fast, you’ll be rolling over, and then climbing out of bed, then getting dressed and you’ll fast become a little person, just like the little people I saw at the school.
I get a little overwhelmed when I think about you being only five weeks old, and how quickly the five weeks have passed by . . . and how fast the next five months will pass, and then five years, and your whole life, in the blink of an eye.

your first St. Patrick’s Day

We mailed presents to you yesterday.

Gift 1


First St Patty's Day

We sent you tiny little clothes and a bib for your “1st St. Patrick’s Day.” St. Patrick’s Day is next week, and we now know we won’t be with you on your first St. Patrick’s Day.

We’ve already bought you a whole lot of things . . . and your mommy’s friends have given you things.

You’re five weeks old tomorrow, and you’re growing, so you need to have the new clothes, and the right sizes, with you now.

We also gave you a cute little rattle for you to hold in your cute little hand. We have clothes for you for the next six months, and even a pretty dress for you at Christmas time, when you go meet Santa. We don’t know when you’ll get here, but we’re ready for you.

“No news, bad news, good news, I need to hear something.”

We’ve been in and out of contact with the birth family, and for the past few days it’s more out of contact than in contact.

“No news, bad news, good news, I need to hear something,” your mommy said today.

The whole situation is complicated . . . state social services complicated and emotionally complex complicated for the birth family.

It’s been a week since we’ve heard from the birth family. And any time there’s silence and no news . . . well, your imagination can start filling in the emptiness with the most complicated, scary, and probably wrong thoughts and ideas.

And as we wait for you, it’s complicated for us because we have so much emotionally invested in wanting you to come be with us, our whole lives are being reshaped as we prepare for you to be with us. (and as we pack to move to the new house.)

“Why are you writing what I say?” mommy asked as she poured over past text messages, searching for new information.

And in the absence of news . . . the tears come.

“Tell her we can’t wait for her to be with us. We love her. We need her here so we can take care of her.”


After reaching out to your birth family, we got an update today . . . and it turns out there’s no news . . . no progress with the state.

At all.

But we got several new photos of you. You’re growing. And you look great.

What a perfect little baby you are. We can’t wait to see for ourselves.

* Sniff *

A great deal of discussion this morning concerning me posting your picture here.

Your mommy is concerned your birth family may recognize you. I say the internet is so big, your birth family probably will never know about this.

And then your mommy got worried that we’re posting photos of you, and things may fall through, and we may not get you.

Your mommy got so upset she was crying.

“What,” she asked, as she looked at me. “I’m not crying about that,” she denied through her tears. “I’m not crying about the blog,” she said, “I’m worried we’re not going to get her.”

* Sniff *

There’s a lot of excitement while we wait for you . . . but also a lot of tears because it’s so difficult to wait.

Month old

You turned a month old today.

It’s achingly difficult not to have you here with us.

I can’t begin to imagine how many diapers and burps and feedings we’ve already missed. How many smiles we’ve never seen and how many cries we haven’t heard.

There’s been no progress towards having you with us . . . I won’t go into details, but there are two different ways you can come be with us, but nothing has happened with either route.

In so many ways, we are as helpless as you are.


We’ve packed all of your things . . . your bed and blankets and clothes and toys, and little socks and gloves.

We’ve packed your bottles and pacifiers . . . although they are just plain pacifiers. I want to get you the pacifier that make it look like you have a moustache.

All of your things are packed and ready to go to your new house. And your own room.