Monthly Archives: May 2014

Last week, and this week

We met with your local caseworker Friday. This first of three meetings lasted nearly three hours. We didn’t talk about you very much, we mostly talked about daddy’s and mommy’s childhoods and our early lives. But we had photos of you on the table in front of us.

Friday night, we learned that there’s a court hearing for you on Wednesday morning.

Saturday, we called our attorney, who agreed to go court to represent us, because we’re 800 miles away.

But Sunday after talking with someone at church, we decided we needed to be in court, too.

So, we’ll see you Wednesday afternoon!

Prints charming

Mommy and Daddy had to go get fingerprinted again, because the FBI couldn’t read the last set of fingerprints (for either of us!).

So, we got fingerprinted again, this time by a different officer.

The fingerprints will be used by the police to check our backgrounds, and to ensure we’re not criminals.

We’re not worried, because Daddy isn’t a criminal. In fact, for you, I’m Prints Charming.
Prints charming

When is a setback not a setback?

We’re making progress . . . your caseworker comes for her first home visit in the morning.

But, when I talked with her earlier this week, she said your home state could drag things out for months. So, while we had reason to feel good that progress is being made with her visit this week, we’ve felt pretty bad knowing that even after the paperwork is done here in our state, that the process could take months more.

You won’t be with us on Father’s Day.

You won’t be with us on Independence Day.

You probably won’t be with us on Labor Day.

I have to remind myself that it’s not really a setback when we’re making progress, only the progress isn’t as fast or as smooth as we want.

I’ve thought a lot this week about these words by Robert Hunter:

“The wheel is turning
and you can’t slow down
You can’t let go
and you can’t hold on
You can’t go back
and you can’t stand still
If the thunder don’t get you
then the lightning will.”

Sometimes, I feel like we’re the horses on a carousel. There’s sometimes the feeling or sense of motion and progress, but we remain static, and frozen, and we’re not really making much progress, at all.

Know that you are loved

We received more photos of you this past week.

little cutie

little cutie

The family that has you loves you very much, and they are doing a wonderful job of taking care of you. They just can’t keep you. They’ve raised their own children already and have grandchildren older than you.

Your birth mother loved you — she loved you so much that she knew she would never be able to take care of you and that she had to give you up.

And your mommy and I love you. We love you so much, that we have rearranged our whole lives, to make special room for you.

Do you feel prayed for?

Many people at church this morning asked about you . . . they wanted to know if there was progress and how you were doing. (After church, we learned that the county social worker met with YOUR case worker last week, and we are to expect a phone call in a few days.)

People at church we haven’t met before told us they were praying for you. And mommy and daddy were mentioned in the bulletin, so even more people will be praying for us, and for you.

While I was standing in the hall before the service, a woman I’ve known for six or seven years handed me a pretty gift bag.

“What’s this,” I asked.

“It’s for your daughter,” she said.

For your daughter.

My daughter.

It’s for you.

She knitted this for you.

knitted coat

knitted coat

It’s large enough for you to wear it in the fall, when it gets cooler. I put it in your dresser, where it’s waiting for you.

Mommy and Daddy have been waiting for you since before you were born. And our families have been waiting for you since Christmas time. And now our new church is also waiting for you. And we are all praying for you.

Do you feel prayed for?

You’re 14 weeks old today

You’re 14 weeks old today.

Three and a half months. Three and a half months since you were born, and we first met you.

It’s been six weeks since I last saw you, and four weeks since mommy was with you.

In so many ways, while we wait for you, time seems to drag on slowly, and it’s physically and emotionally exhausting. It’s as though we’re trying to pull yesterday into today, and push both days into tomorrow. Day after day, week after week.

But for you, time is the blink of an eye as you grow stronger and longer every day. And now they tell us you have started to roll over from your belly to your back, and then you get fussy because you can’t roll back to your belly. You’re already getting close to outgrowing some of the clothes we have for you, you’re growing so well.

You keep growing while we keep waiting.

Waiting is so difficult because we don’t have a time schedule. It’s not like nine months, and there’s a baby. We waited for several months before you were born. And then when you were born, a new clock started and we have no idea when or why the new clock will end.

For you, three and a half months have spun past like the blades of a ceiling fan, while for us, time is an enemy that snatches forever these first days of your development and growth.

And all we can do is count the days.