On January 5th, 2009, we signed our final paperwork to become foster parents.
On January 12th, 2009, we brought home a five pound, five day old little baby girl. Our first placement.
On September 15th, 2011, we heard that court proceedings are over. Parental rights have been terminated. The little baby girl that we brought home from the hospital almost three years ago is finally and forever going to be ours.
From the first day we had her, we were in love. How can you not be? I remember telling people that the most important thing you can give a newborn (other than lots of formula and clean diapers) is unconditional love. They need to bond with their caregivers.
That is the way God created it to work.
There is so much research that shows that children who do not have solid attachments from birth and at a young age can have major problems later in life. Tony and I knew that, regardless of whose custody she was in, it was our job, our reresponsibility, and our privilege to love her as if she was our own child, to give her a solid stable beginning. This seemed even more important not knowing if she might eventually go back to an environment that was not in her best interest. We talked many times those first months that we wanted to make sure that if she ever went back to her biological parents, that she would have a solid foundation and that if her biological parents ever got overwhelmed, we wanted them to know that we loved their little girl like our own and we would be there to help. Yes, we tried the whole Bridge Concept that DHS tries to sell, but that is not for this post.
I prayed from the first day we held this little girl that God knew the plans for her life and that He was the one who was already protecting her and setting things is motion for His plans of GOOD and not evil, that her future was a hopeful and bright one. We prayed that we would have the wisdom to know what to do and the strength to give our emotion, our love, our energy, and ourselves to her and that He would support and encourage us in whatever path it took.
It is hard to rock a child to sleep every night, to bathe her, to feed her, to watch her grow and celebrate the milestones knowing that she could be taken at any time to be placed in another home or back into an environment that no child should live in.
It is hard to hear people say things like "she looks so much like her mama" or "she has her Daddy's eyes." Or to have someone ask "how much did she weigh when she was born?" and have to either tell a little lie and take a guess or say honestly "i have no idea, but she was xxx when we brought her home." Even something as little as saying "When we got her" instead of "when she was born" and the looks that slip of the tongue can bring.
Over the past three years, we have had moments of heartache and uncertainty. And our times of joy and reassurance. Times when we felt like the system was going to fail our daughter. We fought for her, cried for her, and prayed for her. We waited out court reviews. We trusted the courts. We documented every communication between all parties involved. Those of you who know the story or have dealt with DHS and other systems, you understand. But above all, we put our faith and trust in God, the one who is bigger than the courts, bigger than the caseworkers, and bigger than the red tape and policies of DHS.
So, it just so happened that last Thursday, Lil Miss had pink eye. We were on our way home from the pharmacy when I get a call from her caseworker. Since we were going on a year of waiting on an appeal, every call or email from her or our lawyer made me nervous. I turned off the radio to answer the phone. We were only about two miles from home. The first thing the caseworker said was "I got an email today. The appeal is back and the decision stands. Congratulations." Wow. I think I was speechless. She went onto say she knew this would happen and that God was really looking out for this little girl. (This is our fourth caseworker...and the one we like the most.) I think I asked what next and we chatted for a minute about what the previous caseworker had done or not done and what the adoption worker would do next. She said congratulations again and then we said our goodbyes.
I hung up the phone and started crying. It was like all the tension, all the fear, all the uncertainty was leaving me. I couldn't say anything except "Thank you Jesus." I took a few deep breaths and called Tony, getting his voice mail. It wasn't something I could leave in a message, so I tearfully said "call me at home as soon as you get this." I think I freaked him out a little.
After I pulled in the driveway, I called my mom. Both the kids were asleep in the backseat, so I just got out of the car to talk to her. She answered, and the tears started flowing harder. My mother has been one of the ever present supporters. But I couldn't talk for crying, so I think I mumbled out something like "the appeal came back...it was denied (not sure if that is the right term)...and Dani is going to be ours." She had a ton of questions I could not answer. I had to say "I will call you later."
I was still processing what that meant (and still am). Saying it out loud made it seem unreal. So unreal. Could it be? Finally? Really? Of Course.
God knew. He promised. A future and a hope.
When I got Dani out of the car, I was still crying. She looked confused, which made me laugh. I think I gave her one of the biggest, tightest hugs of her life. Since she really has no clue about any of this, I am sure she thought I was going crazy.
We got inside, ate lunch, and did the normal afternoon routine. In her point of view, Dani's life has not changed. She only knows this. She only knows that she is our daughter. She knows she has a half brother and has spent a few hours with him, but can hardly pick him out a picture. She has spent less than 24 hours with her birth mother. We are her family. She is our family.
She does not understand that the phone call I received has changed, or at least solidified her life.
When I finally got a call back from Tony, I am almost 100% sure he cried also.
We went on with our day. We are going on with our lives. We have another foster child who may or not be our forever child. We will love him and fight for him as long as we have him. I already pray for him as I have always prayed for Dani. God has awesome plans for him. He has a future and a hope and above all, he is God's lil man. Maybe someday, I will have a similar story about him, although hopefully with less drama.
But Daniella Jolie will be our forever child. Her life does have a future and a hope. She is our daughter. Our parents' granddaughter. Our sisters' niece.
How awesome it that?
"For I know that plans I have for you' says the Lord. 'Plans for good and not for evil. To give you a future and a hope." Jer 29:11.
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