Broken

This isn’t going to be one of those warm and fuzzy posts, so if you are feeling judgmental today, here is my advice for you:

First, be kind.  Always be kind.  Secondly, read your Bible until you feel better. Thirdly, just know this comes from a good heart. 

The world is NOT full of rainbows and glitter and I am so sad by that fact.  Wouldn’t it be nice if it were?  Everything sparkly and pretty? 

Fostering is teaching me a lot of things, stuff that I would rather not know.  Things like evil.  I wish I didn’t know there were just evil people out there.  No drugs involved….that would give it some kind of rhyme or reason for it, they are not in their right mind.  But this….this is just plain evilness.  I hate knowing there are people out there that genuinely do not have the best interest for their children in mind.  I hate knowing that there are people out there that give their 2, 3, and 4 year old children beer because it makes them laugh.  Or that these same children are terrified to STOP eating because they are still afraid they won’t be fed again!  I hate seeing the absolute terror come across their faces whenever we try to discipline them.  I hate that every time I have to correct them, I have to start it with, “I love you, but…..”.  And it’s usually ended with “…..we have to be nice with our hands” or “we cannot eat the entire box of cookies” or something little like that.  I want them to always know that bad behavior does NOT stop the love. 

I hate that everything has to be a competition for attention.  I cannot spend one on one time with each of them without “B” going into one of her jealous fits.  I hate that she doesn’t feel loved unless she is the one being showered with praise and attention.  And honestly, I don’t know how to handle this.  I hate that when we go out of the house, if she doesn’t get her way, she throws herself down and throws a fit, sometimes multiple times.  I hate the baby talk and the resorting to infant behavior. 

I’m tired of watching the foods I buy and not being able to eat whatever I want to.  I hate the stupid cost of healthy, whole foods!  I hate that it takes me an HOUR to do “A’s” skin treatments every night before he goes to bed.  I LOVE that it works, but it is just so time consuming.  It is also great one on one time with him as well….so I guess I can’t hate it too much.  Food allergies and eczema consume my every waking moment.  I hate the HIGH cost of the special lotions and creams I have to use on him 5-6 times a day.  I hate that he’s allergic to EVERY diaper I’ve ever bought for him.  I hate that any food he has that he is allergic to, comes out in the form of acid on his bottom and that I can’t change him too fast or too often to stop the rash that is inevitable.  And I hate that he is allergic to EVERY food!

I’m just tired today.  This is more work than I ever imagined and I hate that it’s necessary to retrain these children that should have had good, loving, stable parents in the first place.  I hate that foster care is necessary for bad parents. 

But fostering is NOT roses and kisses.  It’s work, a LOT of work, and if you aren’t in this for the right reasons, you won’t make it.  I think we need to be honest about this.  These children aren’t going to come into our homes and fall down and worship us because of what we are doing for them!  They are coming in resentful and angry, scared and confused.  But most of all, they come in knowing they have lost everything, and the only people they have known.  They will always love those parents, as God designed it.  But, because of sin and the awfulness in the world, satan takes that love and twists it and makes it ugly.  They love a dream of what they wish they had, of what God had planned for them, even though they have no idea what that plan was, or even who God is. 

I hate when negative behavior is corrected, they cry for mom, and I hate that I know it isn’t ME they are crying for.  It hurts my heart.  I know they are young and this is VERY normal behavior, but it hurts my heart.  I hate that they don’t feel our love all the time. 

I hate that I’m tired and I see this as work.  I still LOVE that we are doing this and that we are being obedient to Christ’s call for our family to care for the orphans, please do not get that wrong.  It’s just such an overwhelming experience some days. 

I hate that invitations to hang out or go out have disappeared.  I hate that we wouldn’t have the money to do either anymore anyway.  I hate that people see these children as an added burden, instead of a blessing from a loving God for an obedient family. 

I hate the thought of Christmas right now.  My heart seriously STOPS when I think about it.  Santa needs to hurry and become real please.  I have children that have NEVER experienced Santa before.

I hate that my house seems to be shrinking daily.  I hate that the floor plans I dream up every night as I fall into bed, won’t be coming true.  I hate that Ty won’t be visiting us and telling that bus driver to “move that bus!” 

But, I love the extra kisses at night.  And the padding of little feet in my kitchen has doubled.  And the giggles that fill a room.  I am honored that God would see fit to bless US.  I cannot imagine how in the world I was worthy enough for this.

I’m just glad He did.

Pray for us, if you will.  It is so amazing, and one of the MOST incredible experiences we have ever had as a family.  But it is draining emotionally and physically some days. 

But we are in it for the long haul. 

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To appreciate life, sometimes you have to endure death

Our first BIG, REAL family vacation in 14 years.

I’d worked anything I could for 2 years to afford this.  I had planned the perfect location, the perfect house, google mapped all the directions, made arrangements for anything and everything, and checked with all 3 of Baby Boy’s doctors to get the go-ahead to go. 

It was to be 10 days of sheer HEAVEN!  A chance for us to reconnect with each other and play…with no stress, no worries, and no WORK!  A once-in-a-lifetime trip!

We did amazing things like beach walking, swimming in the ocean, dolphin watching, NAP-TAKING, seashell hunting, crab fishing, and sting ray hunting…..and eating.  {ICK}  (Yes, they filleted stingray, and I cooked it.  And we ate it.)  But it was a chance for my boys to be boys, and to live out any fun adventure they wanted to.

Wednesday, we drove to the “historic” Apalachicola to see alligators.  We turned right instead of the normal left to Port St Joe on the highway, and within 5 minutes we pass a hospital.  Wow, that’s pretty cool….a hospital in the middle of nowhere!  Good to know!  And we carry on to our adventure at a sketchy restaurant with dirty utensils but great food…..and no alligators.  We laughed a lot about our complete “mis-adventure” in Apalachicola!

We had 5 days of unbelievable heaven….and then, life happened.

Or rather, death tried to happen.

Thursday, we all took a little sunset cruise out into the Gulf of Mexico to watch the dolphins play, and the sun set over the water.  It was beautiful….the kids laughed, Brooklyn drove the boat and wore the Captain’s hat, and Baby Boy fussed a bit, but was pretty good to quiet down in the little front carrier I wore to keep him safe and close while we were out on the water.  And the sunset was amazing.

After the boat tour, we ate at a little seafood restaurant with amazing food, and we talked and laughed over our day, and planned for our last day.

We left, and stopped at the gas station to fill up, when Chandler reached over the backseat to take Baby Boy’s hand.  He does it all the time.  My boys are always touching him, tickling him, and trying to make him giggle.  He’s one of our family, and my kids adore him. 

But this particular night, Chandler reached over to take his hand, and something was different.  “Mom, why is his hand doing that?”  Looking back, I see his left hand rhythmically clenching and unclenching.  Such a slight movement, barely noticeable, but realization slammed into my chest immediately:

Seizure.

We had forgotten his keppra at home in Oklahoma, so he hadn’t gotten it at all this week, but the drs reassured us he’d never had a seizure….we thought he would be ok for the week.  And now, he’s having a seizure, and it’s our fault. 

Let me tell you, guilt of this magnitude can cripple a person.

Within 10 minutes of the seizure starting, we were standing in the hospital (we’d discovered on the way to Apalachicola only the previous day….God is good, huh?) and with Baby Boy cradled in my arms, tears streaming down my face, and my family standing around me, I told the receptionist I thought he was having a seizure. 

Things happened so quickly, Mike and I were whisked away with him still cradled in my arms to a small room where nurses tried for 45 minutes to put an IV in……with 7 attempts.  He screamed until there was no voice left, just odd-sounding croaks.  Mike and I were small comfort, but we tried, holding his other hand, stroking his head, whispering prayers and loving words in his ears.  And just trying to stomach such an awful moment without losing it.  We both cried.

We explained about his horrible injuries suffered at the hands of his mother, and the daily injections of lovenox he had, and the keppra to prevent the seizures we had left at home. 

The dr was so nice, he’ll just give him IV meds to stop the seizure and he’ll refill the keppra for him, and we can enjoy the last days of our dream vacation!  “Wait, let me take labs just in case…..” Those infamous words.

The lab results were confusing with what the dr was witnessing in front of him, he said.  He said he sees an incredibly happy baby, cooing with his mother, and trying to grab the nurses stethoscope, but inside his body, his white count is high, his red blood cells are dangerously low, and he has a massive brain hemorrhage happening inside his brain.  The radiologist explained Baby Boy didn’t even have enough time for the 2 and half hour ambulance ride to Tallahassee, he had to be Life-flighted immediately.

He was less than 2 and half hours from certain death. 

If Chandler had not reached over, in that loving gesture he did so often, he would have fallen asleep like normal, and we would have laid him in his little bed next to us….

…..and he would have died quietly in his sleep.  He would have been gone by morning.

This was told by the neurosurgeon and nurse in Tallahassee after his emergency brain surgery.   They extracted 75 ccs of blood from his brain during the surgery, and his blood level was so “critically low” he required an immediate blood transfusion.  There was no time to think, no time to pray, no time for a second opinion, it had to be done immediately. 

When I arrived Saturday morning to Tallahassee where Mike had been since early Friday morning, I was unprepared for the rush of emotions:  such deep feelings for Mike, and fear for the baby, and such deep sadness.  We almost lost this sweet Baby Boy we’ve only known for 2 months and love so deeply.  You bond when you are trying to heal a broken body.

We were states away from our family, our church, and our friends, sitting in a PICU praying life into this baby.  His head was grotesquely swollen.  No picture could adequately describe what I saw.  He resembled a character from the Coneheads. 

But he was alive. 

Yet again, God saved this tiny Baby Boy!  He should have died from the original injuries he suffered 2 months before, confirmed by the drs in the ER here.  God directed us on a mis-adventure, to show us the hospital the day before we needed it.  God used a 13 year old boy, with a heart of gold, to notice the seizure that was hours away from killing him.

But the biggest kicker of all was to hear that if he had been on the keppra, he wouldn’t have had the seizure, and we wouldn’t have known he needed to go to the hospital.  That was out of the mouth of 3 doctors and 3 different nurses. 

We didn’t cause this. 

In every avenue, God was there.  In every situation, He directed us.  In the middle of this devastating time, God was working to save this beautiful Baby. 

He will grow up knowing just how much Christ loves him. 

And just how much his new family loves him too.  Even if he doesn’t end up staying with us, I believe God will always have His hand on him. 

I cannot praise Him enough. 

And we are hoping for a re-do on our vacation next year.  God is welcome on that one too.

(For more information on how you can know Christ too, feel free to email me.

For information on the beach house we stayed at, check this out.  It couldn’t have been more perfect!)