we called him charlie...

Last October, shortly after I blogged about being pregnant, we got a phone call.  It was a Tuesday around 2:00.  There was a baby.  He needed a home.  My heart was pounding.  This was it.  I had spent sleepless nights prowling for kids on the internet that needed a home.  We had been to 3 somewhat awkward "meet and greets" for kids that needed homes.  I had sent COUNTLESS emails to caseworkers and given our Home Study to literally any one that wanted it...and it came down to this.  I was ready.  I knew as she was telling me about the family's situation that we were in.  I didn't even need to call Dave to check with him (don't worry, of course I did...)  The caseworker said there was a newborn baby boy.  5 days old.  He needed a place tonight.  But wait.  He had a sister that was about a year old that was already in care. They wanted a home that was willing to take her in about 6 months. YES!  It was everything we had wanted...

I was at color me happy when I got the call.  I talked to Dave and then ran out to my mom and told her everything.  She was apprehensive but supportive and excited.  I was going to meet my son that day.

Operation: Get the house ready for a baby was in effect.  Mom called in the special forces.  AKA: Carol/Mimi was on her way.  We had 4 hours give or take.  The rush of it all was so exciting but I should have seen this as a sign...and not a good one.

He came to our house straight from the hospital.  Wow.  The kids were SO excited!!  They wanted to hold him and feed him and just look at him.  Dave and I couldn't believe that he was real...to say that we had forgotten what it was like to have a newborn baby in the house is an understatement.  Did I mention that I had my 16 week pregnancy check up the next day?  Yeah, life didn't stop.  Charlie was just along for the ride and we were thrilled to have him.

As the adrenaline and the initial excitement wore off and the sleep deprivation caught up with us, we realized this was going to be quite a roller coaster.  You see, Charlie came from another county which meant that we had our local DFCS office and his DFCS office to deal with.  This meant that we had never met his caseworker and that we weren't the least bit familiar with the way that office worked.  We found out pretty early that the sister was not going to be placed with us.  AND that his biological family had not yet been investigated for possible placement.  We weren't being told anything about his case.  Lots of dead ends.  And tears...

To make a long painful story short, there was lots of miscommunication.  I don't like to think of it as lies.  I want to think that the people placed in charge of these little lives do the best with what is given to them...I want to believe that.  About 6 weeks after Charlie came to stay, it was time for him to go.  Our hearts, along with our kids' hearts, were broken.

We couldn't take the roller coaster.  We thought we were strong enough.  There was just too much that was being said that was contradictory.  We had no idea what direction the case was going to take and we were already too involved, too exhausted, too confused and too in love.  What if we fostered him for a year and then he went back to live with his biological mom?  Could our kids (who were already calling him their brother) handle that?  Could I?  I'd like to say that I could.  I mean, I took the classes.  Remember almost 18 months ago?  I took the classes that taught me all about the system and DFCS and fostering...yeah.  I forgot to tell my heart.  We went in wanting and intending to adopt.  We had taught our kids that whom ever God brings to us would be our family.  And they learned well.  It was instant for them...

For months after Charlie left I felt like we had made a horrible mistake.  We had passed him on to another foster family in God knows where with God knows who living in conditions that made me, once again, lose sleep.  There were lots of tears.  I felt like I had abandoned my child.  I needed to find him and rock him to sleep.  I knew how to do that.  We had no information.  All I knew is that we had packed a suitcase (Nana had given it to him so he didn't have to move with trash bags like so many other foster kids.)  I had included a letter with his schedule and his likes and all my contact info, just in case.  I just needed to move on.

And I couldn't help but think about the fact that once again (in October no less) we had lost.  First I had miscarried, then my daddy passed away and now Charlie was gone.  October sucks...

I was once again grieving.  Or, to be honest, just adding another layer to my grief that I probably hadn't properly dealt with yet.  We closed our home to DFCS.  I couldn't handle the idea of this happening again.  Maybe we weren't meant to adopt.  Maybe we had misunderstood the calling.  Maybe God had gotten the wrong number...

My only comfort was that "God knows".  I couldn't really remember that while it was all happening.  The noise of all the grief was too loud.  But soon the whispers would start to become more clear.