I can see clearly now, the rain has gone...

You may have received an email from my mom telling you that the TPR hearing that was supposed to be this month was moved AGAIN. Or you might have called to find out how the hearing went only to find out that it didn't happen at all. I apologize for not blogging/emailing about it but I literally didn't even process it for almost a week. Seriously, it didn't really hit me until the following Thursday night. We got a call from the county case worker on the Friday before (when the hearing was supposed to on a Tuesday) telling us that the hearing was moved up again to April 8 and 10 because "the docket got too full". We were heading out the door to get Mara to her visit, but I called my mom and sisters on the way. I pretty much left it up to Mom and Sarah if they still wanted to come, but I was concerned about them not being here when I really needed them in April. They decided to come anyway, and we made the most of their visit (except for the letdown, a root canal and a virus that caused Liam to have a febrile seizure-- look for a post titled Mommy Guilt!).

So this is what happens when you do foster care. We didn't know about the agony of the unknowns and waiting when we applied for the job, but we do now. It is what it is, and as usual it was my high and perhaps even unrealistic expectations that got the best of me. My visualizations had been that the hearing was going to be uncomfortable to sit through, but that it would finally bring about the end of weekly visits that cause Mara to hit herself and act out and the beginning of the journey toward adoption. Her case is supposedly an EPP (Expedited Placement Plan)-- and they had told me they like to see EPPs in their permanent home within a year!

So I no longer have my hopes up for the hearings on April 8 and 10. I don't honestly know why-- a gut feeling that something is shifting or merely self-protection? We still plan to be there, so we'll see. I've been scrambling since my mom left, trying to arrange child care for the new hearing dates so she wouldn't have to come again in April. I finally told her yesterday not to cancel her trail ride because she sounded really bummed about it-- they can't just go for a weekend, they have to go for the whole week or not at all. I think we have a friend who may be able to watch the boys at her house and another foster mom who will watch Mara at hers. Aunt Jen has offered to be Plan B, or even Plan A for the boys--and she will come here, so my vote is for Plan A for Auntie Jen and Wil! I still need to check with my friend who I haven't actually spoken with in months. Mike talked with her when he went to get our Girl Scout cookies. I had had a root canal that day and wasn't feeling real good. I'm hoping she can be a Plan B for the boys. Plan B for Boys, since she would have four of them at her house!

But back to the meltdown that led to me being so calm and accepting powerlessness: I was being really bitchy to Mike, and short with the kids, and just generally annoyed by everyone for about six days. What a fun time for Nana to visit! We had a good time actually, even going out for a mother-daughter date one evening to Starbucks, Panera Bread and to see The Curious Case of Benjamin Button (a very good film). It was a Thursday evening, I was bone-tired, and Mike suddenly realized that Mara was eighteen months old. EIGHTEEN MONTHS OLD!!! In only a month, she will have been with us for a year and a half. And it wasn't until later on when she fell asleep in my arms and I kissed her sweet face, that the floodgates opened and saw how I had been behaving as if I was watching myself on a big screen TV, and I didn't like what I saw. I bawled my eyes out, and it was then and there that I decided:

I am not going to waste another day wondering and worrying about the future of our attached family. I'm not sure I can "trust an unknown future to a known God", but I'm trying. Meanwhile, I want to enjoy every day I have with my daughter. The future will happen either way.

That's it. Pretty simple. Nothing earth-shattering. It's the same lesson, over and over again, 'til we get it.

One day at a time.