Category Archives: Special Needs Children

So… Why are we parenting differently from a Galaxy far far away?

Adotion Thing Logo Final-1

 

6P1A0006

 

So, we are coming home from the beach today.

Need to set alarms early, like, 6a.m. cause I got five kids with me.

Sheets off all beds, towels in the wash, all bags packed as well as food.

Breakfast………….mmmmm………… different story.

Two get up.  GREAT!  Three are dragging.  One has personal stuff.

Make-up, hair, appearance.

Two (twins) who are the youngest think they are exempt.

Phones are really important.  Like what are their friends doing?

Like in my grandkids, also coming home from the beach.

Finally out the door, made it in just over an hour.  Record time.

Anyone with large families will get this.  Two, one, easy peasy.

Then, oh then.

I get the over usage of data message.  I try to say nicely, NO FACETIME!!  Of course using my nice voice doesn’t work, but on the second over usage of data, I guess I elevated my tone to make it work!

Bored!  All bored.  They all have cell phones, a flat screen TV with video and a large bag full of videos to watch.  They have pillows, reclining leather seats (we drive an airport shuttle with all the bells and whistles) and they are still thinking “BORING!”

About that time I thought I should tell a small story, but one that was a  wee bit telling about the age we live in.

I reminisced.  You see when I was a kid, up until I was about ten or so, and I do know I am dating myself here.  We didn’t have a TV, there were no cell phones, no internet (90’s I believe), and no I Tunes, FaceTime you got it etc.

When I was going and coming from holidays it was like this.  We all got up around 3 a.m.  Dad read the paper, delivered to our door, Mum started the packing.  There were no fast food restaurants, and buying food in any form was pretty rare.  She had to prepare for our holiday at a remote spot on the beach understanding we were going for three weeks.

Food for a family of five (sometimes six because our grandma would come), clothes for all of us, games we could play, fishing rods, hats, flip flops (we called them thongs, and yes I know), warm and cold extras because it was Fall, or Autumn as we called it.

And, my daddy loved to go out on the boat fishing, so extra stuff for him.

I wish I could remember if he took his banjo-mandolin with him.

Then the journey. Yup, what a trek.  Gosh, well, we got up at 3.am. but Dad had to read the newspaper.  Very frustrating for Mum, who made his cup of tea, toast and eggs, and had all of the other packing to do.  Boy do I relate.

We had an old green van.  A “Comma”.  It was almost like a seven seater these days, but wasn’t.  It had two benches which wasn’t enough so we had a couple of extra back seats.  No seatbelts at all.  I’m not even sure that were not two front seats and a bench.  I was really young, but did remember that old green van.

The roads were not that great in 1957 plus, and many bridges were not built at that time.  To get to our holiday destination (which was also mine for some forty years plus after that) we drove 200 miles at around 45 miles an hour, crossed three rivers by driving on a ferry, and and it took us about 12 hours to get to our destination.

It was worth it.  We played “I Spy”, and all other sorts of games.  We asked “how long until we get there” more often than my parents could have stood, but we did get there.  And, we made lots of memories.  Without phones, TV, FaceTime, Face Book, The Internet and constant communication.

Was it worth it?

Oh yes.  You see I took my own kids there for multiple holidays before I moved here.  They made memories they will never forget.  I have taken this blended  family to this very place, across the many miles, to Australia.  They have not forgotten.

So, why are we giving in to phones, Face Time, Face Book, Snap Chat, Instagram and many of the apps out there that are affecting the innocence of our children.  Why are we becoming subservient to our children’s needs for what?  Just putting this out there.

Maybe parenting has become old fashioned and if it has, then maybe that is why we have a lot of “Lost Children” in our foster systems, our  adoption rolls, and our international issue of children without parents.

And I do know a lot of  those children are not the products of electronics, they are the products of hunger, alcohol, drugs, war, neglect and ignorance.

I encourage you.  TV, phones, electronic instruments are not the answer.  Sometimes, a good old fashioned game, or just a family dinner around the table has the answer.

For the “Lost Children”?  We are their answer.  They do not have a voice.  They feel invisible.  Those children are on our streets, around the corner, in foster homes, in the “projects” and overseas in orphanages.  Orphanages that do not love or hold these children, places in Africa where children roam the streets hungry, alone and uncared for.  And the numbers are growing.

All I ask, is this.  Pray as a family, eat as a family, laugh as a family and play as a family.  Other than that, pray for those  Lost Children who do not have a family or anyone who prays for them.

If you would like more of this, please join my email list.  I am about to give out amazing interviews from Parents who thought they could not ever find a forever child and much more information for your journey into the foster/adoption world.

Also, I am about to record my new song “I Feel Invisible” which I am giving away to those on my email list.

Keep tuning in!

 

a must place to visit while you're on-2

300px_web

 

 

 

 

Interactions Of The Blended Family

 

Adotion Thing Logo Final-1

6P1A0006

 

I am at the beach with five of my “heart” birthed children.

It’s quite amazing, or funny whichever way you want to look at it, as to how the different personalities interact.

Then add in the conversations, and visits from the “womb” children.

Makes it tricky for a mum of twelve to get some personal space, but I  have, even with managing to do a lot of work, and spend a heaps of time on the beach with the growing younger kids.

I managed to walk each day with my soon to be college kid.  She is the one who can be slightly overshadowed as she is almost the same age as her sister, who requires a lot of time and attention.

She can appear to be quiet, but is very strong minded.  A good thing, I think, but, between her and my young man who is with me, their strong wills took them in a direction they didn’t plan on last night.

As the eldest of the group, college kid wants to be in charge, as in under me (maybe), and my young man, well, he’s the man of the house this week.  Then, add in his similarly minded twin sister, and you have a recipe for a difference of opinion.

Such opinions became vocal last night as we were all ready to go out to dinner.  We had, or at least I thought we had, decided to walk up the beach to a restaurant that they had been waiting to go to.  The sun was setting, it was very pretty, and, quite frankly, I would have got the rest of my steps for the day.  Not that I’m counting.

But then, young man had lost his flip flops.  They were no-where to be found (no surprise here) and he had to wear his precious grey and white special Nike shoes.  He was not walking on the sand.  Those suckers get cleaned every day.  He was not getting them wet.  Not his Nike’s.  He was walking up the road.

The door closes and everyone begins the straggle to the elevator which is almost outside our condo.  And, the voices begin to raise.

You can guess what it was about?  The Nike’s were not going on the sand.  The others wanted to walk the beach.  Their little opinions were echoing down the balcony that runs along the condo’s.

Three took off in the elevator, and two stayed with me.  The Nike man of course because his shoes were not getting sand on them.

Well, I have learned sometimes we all have to learn lessons, including college kid.

Lesson learned.  I came back inside, rather quietly for me, explained that we were not going out arguing, and began to prepare dinner at home.

Shocked faces and phone calls flying back and forth from the three now waiting at the restaurant.

But MUM?????  Yes?  We are eating in.

Noooooooooooooooo!  I was expecting a heated exchange of who was to blame, but I announced that if they chose to argue, we would not be going to restaurants for the rest of our time here.

I cooked a variety of things I had left from our week at the beach and we all sat down and watched something called “Face Off”.  My education was now enhanced by a new TV program, and we all stopped expressing loud opinions.

The night finished joyously by the younger four hanging out in the hot tub, all friends again, and college kid and I binge watching “Face Off”.

Keep tuned for more adventures.

Join my email list if you would like free podcasts about the adventures of Fostering, Adoption and biological families.

 

300px_web

 

 

 

The Dynamics of The Blended Family

View More: http://teresaearnestphotography.pass.us/kate-headshots

We are a multi level blended family.  Me, two kids, marries Amazing Hubbie, no kids.  I have two, then we make another two,  making four, then adopt eight.  Multi layers.

All are different with some similar.  That makes no sense, but makes sense to a certain degree because we do have sibling groups,  Including three sets of twins.

It is quite disarming, or cute, to find that my first two kids, by another father, are very similar to the second two biological by Amazing Hubbie.

Two boys, two girls, one of each by both, and similarities in one boy, one girl and yet another set of one boy, one girl.

Ok, I now have totally confused you.  So simply.  One of each from my first marriage, match one of each from my second.  Puzzling, except I have these very dominant genes that show up everywhere.

Then add another eight. Three boys and five girls, totaling  seven girls and five boys overall.  I am continually freaked out about the similarities in behaviors and personalities of the birthed from my womb and birthed from my heart.  Cause, you see, there is no difference.

It comes down to how we raise them.  What values we put in their minds and how we treat them.  You see for me, they all were equal, no difference in either birthed from heart vs womb.

They do have their own differences, which are inherent to their own personalities, but, the morals they are raised with, and the manners that are instilled are the same.

Even if they screw up!  Yup they have the same, “crap” as in, I disappointed or didn’t obey, or rebelled, as each other in the family.  When it comes to what is taught and caught it is the same.  No difference.

What makes differences is personalities, or diagnosed difficulties. Either in learning, or other.  That is where the difference comes, not from being a biological or an adopted child.  That doesn’t make one bit of difference.  It’s the challenges that a child is born with that make the challenges in life.  If we parent accordingly, then birth by heart, or birth by womb makes no difference.

I have fallen in love with every one on my children the moment I saw them, from birth, from meeting in a DCS office, to the NICU, to the doorstep when they arrived via a worker from DCS or after hours.

I also fell in love with more than one child who came to me as a foster child that I could not keep, or got moved on.  I only grieved for a small moment, because more than one of those I now am in contact with or never lost contact with.  Hearts are big.  Love is bigger, and we all can become a family, no not a village, but a family, who helps raise the more challenging ones, who lost parents, and sometimes siblings, but through the love that pervades the family, becomes the person God envisioned them to be.

I thank God for my journey through loving the Lost Children, some of who I call my own.  Many are found, let’s try to save or consider those who are lost.

valentine45

a must place to visit while you're on-2

300px_web

Adotion Thing Logo Final-1

So they are not babies anymore! HELP!

IMG_7844_edited

Adotion Thing Logo Final-1

So when these current “New Thompsons” arrived they were babies.

They now range from two at twenty, two at seventeen, two at fifteen and two at thirteen.

Not babies.

Twenty year old boys are still teenagers, RIGHT!

YUP!

So, eight teenage like minds in my house.  Not only that, but these are teenagers with learning plus issues.

Let me say here ADHD?  Least of my concerns.  We are all that, like all twelve kids and two parents.  Isn’t that normal?  Feels like that here.  I believe we are made in God’s hands and image.  He has to be ADHD.  I’m sure of that.  He is omnipresent and that takes a real ADHD person to do that.  Not being disrespectful, just pointing out that is is another facet of God that we do not understand.

Most important.

He understand us.  Why?  He created us.  He knows us. No mysteries here.  You and all of us here are perfect in his eyes.  Straight off the Potters Wheel.  Clay.  Moldable?  Is that a word?  It better be.  I get on the wheel everyday.  I need molding, refining, firing all of it.  So do my kids.  So do yours.

planets20

I love this picture!!  It reminds me not only of the world which it is a picture of, but that it moves so fast, is ever changing, and is hard to look at and put every piece in it’s place.

But we, you and I, our kids, all of us, have a “piece” here.  We have a purpose, a calling, a place where we can thrive.  Where our passion can support our purpose and we can come alive.

What is life if you are not living it?  Just a word.  All children need to live a life, express their desires and potential.  All children need parents who will listen, who help them to fulfill their dreams that God put in their heart.  There are so many Lost Children who do not have those parents.

Are you one of those?  I was.  I am so glad I listened to the soft spoken voice in my heart and mind and followed it.  I would have missed all of this.  I would have arrived in Heaven and found boxes with unclaimed gifts of lives.  Little ones who God entrusted to me.

I am not here to guilt you.  I am just reminiscing and relishing the journey on which I have been on.  Not an easy one, but such a joyous one.  Without this call, I would not be who I am today.  I would not be thinking like I am, I would not be envisioning such a future ahead, and thankful, grateful for the life behind and continuing in the present.

Leaving you with a thought.  Understand YOUR purpose.  Then apply your passion.  Nothing has gone wrong, just find these two things.

Finally, it is never too late, you are never too old, you are never too young, you are just at the right time, the perfect time to find your PURPOSE!

visit

300px_web

Adotion Thing Logo Final-1

You Never Know Who You Are Sitting Next To……

View More: http://teresaearnestphotography.pass.us/kate-headshots

 

I recently attended an amazing conference in Savannah with some of the most wonderful women I have ever met.  All of us in business for ourselves, Lady Bosses if you will.  Although I am my own boss, I sometimes wonder what my coaching clients really want to hear and what client is in need of my knowledge to help them clarify their why, what and where.

I speak a lot about adoption and fostering, but have not thought there would be a huge demand for life coaching in this area.  Well, maybe I am wrong about that.

In the last hour of this wonderful weekend I started chatting to another of my fellow life coaches.  She asked a few questions and then suddenly I found she wanted, needed, information that I knew and could easily help her with.

Adoption!!!!!!

How Do I Start?

Where Do I Start?

Then the really big question, the one I always get…….

I’M AFRAID!!

Well I can tell you I was too!!  It seemed like a scary journey, and overwhelm set in more than once.  I can remember jumping from being excited, to feeling like this was too much uncertainty.  But, I got through all of it, and I learned so much about what I call “The Lost Children” on the way.

I can remember thinking I only want one or two and they would be this age, and preferably girls.

OMG!

REALLY!

Well that was the beginning of one hell of a ride!

One I never regret and one that made me a better person!

                         quotes5

Not everyone is called or feels the tug of adoption and less people are led to be a foster parent.  I was one of those.  I didn’t dream about this and when I did think I wanted to adopt, I never intended to be a foster parent.

That’s a whole other story!!!!

But, if you have thought about bringing a child into your home by adoption, or being a foster parent, I would love to talk to you.  I am going to do a series of videos that will be free to you, just add your email and I got you!!  I hope these will be informative.

Remember this,

a must place to visit while you're on-2

300px_web

When Foster meets Biological

IMG_7844_edited

Adotion Thing Logo Final-1

I haven’t been in the system as a foster parent for several years, but, it doesn’t seem to stop teenagers in need of a place of respite from coming to my door.    When all of my family was much younger, it was pretty easy with most of the foster kids who came into care.

Of course, we had rules, which, of course, we broke often in an emergency.  Most of the rules I broke, I was blessed by.  But, there were rules we had for ages of foster children for a reason.  Good solid reasons, like teenage boys coming into a situation with teenage girls.  Not a good mix.

One of the primary rules we had, and mostly stuck too, was that our foster children needed to be younger that the permanent or biological kids in the house.  When we started that was easy, our youngest in the house were fifteen and sixteen.  But then our first boys, twins, came at twenty months old, and we had to start to think about who or what ages could come in and melt into the potluck, or God given, family that He was creating.

I have to say here, when our teenagers that were resident in the house were asked about bringing foster kids in, they were very reluctant.  They had the same arguments that I hear every time I talk about fostering.  “We will love them and they will leave!”  But, love, is exactly what all of the children coming into a foster care situation need.  Even if they have layers of PTSD, are angry, unloving and yell at you, they are the ones needing your love.

I can say without a doubt, there were times that children came into our home and were not a good mix.  I always trusted my instincts on that one, and made sure I collaborated with the caseworker to find them the appropriate placement.  Ah, the good old days.  I think it has changed a lot since then, but never give up finding a child the right placement.

We have always had a rule in our house about kids coming in.  It is simply this: “Father God, we will take anyone you send as long as they are not a problem to the ones we have.”  We have stuck to that rule.  In fact we had to put that rule into place just recently when a young man just out of his teens proved to be a serious problem to the family.  It is always heartbreaking when this happens, but when it is obvious and clear, protection of the ones that came first is imperative.

Our last desperate young man was seemingly without family at first glance and needing so much, but unfortunately he mistook kindness for stupidity.  Drugs, alcohol and deceptive behavior is not acceptable in our house.  If he, or anyone else, is honest and open to help, I am there, but denial is a part of addiction and not what I can have in my home with my children.

So, accept and believe, nurture and love, but keep your eyes open and understand what is beyond your ability to change or fix.

IGNITE YOUR PASSION_FIND YOUR PURPOSE

300px_web

 

The extras we are thankful God sent to our table,

Adotion Thing Logo Final-1

IMG_7844_edited

Thanksgiving is a day but it is also a word that means give thanks for everything and everyone.

I am not only thankful for my family but the “family” not related but know who are, and trust they can come and be accepted, loved, laugh, cry and be exactly who they are, warts and all, and not be judged.

Yesterday, Thanksgiving, I was honored to have not only my amazing large exuberant loud family, but others who I feel like family and trust they can come in grief and sorrow, in loss, in rejection, and be loved and not expected to be anything but “RAW”.

They know who they are.  The young wife with two babies whose husband left, with her mom who has struggled through her own life and I am sure was totally in shock at the thought and experience of the Thompson family.  She didn’t leave, and although looked a bit shell shocked from time to time, did converse in the end.  Young wife had a blast, was gracious to ex when he showed with the children, and overall felt like she did not have to pretend.  RAW!

The next were precious friends who lost a husband and a dad, suddenly, and couldn’t face putting on a pretense for anyone.  They all were here together last year, and to come back and know their loved one’s spirit was here with us was hard, but they knew no matter what emotions they came with, they would be accepted.   We let them take the lead on that.

My grieving friends laughed, ate, talked, cried, remembered and were glad they came.  The were accepted just where they were, RAW.

Then there was the young man who lost his father too early, had led a troubled life, and has no real family as his mother is on the streets.  He came, ate heartily, sat by the fire pit with the others, was accepted, in spite of his past (not too good) and stayed until the end.  He felt accepted.  He came RAW, not expecting but spilled his heart to amazing hubby at midnight while we were cleaning up.  Not only up for being RAW, but feeling accepted enough to do that.

And just when we thought most were gone was the young mother of two who lives in an extended stay motel.  She knows my daughter through work and has not always done the right thing by a vulnerable teenager with her own issues.  But, she found herself at a church because she was desperate and invited the vulnerable teenager.  God at work.

It turns out they could not remember their last home cooked meal, and the children were enthralled with my piano which I taught them to revere, hold gently in their fingers and not bang, but love.  Their eyes were shining, their minds were open and hearts receptive.

They ate, they played my piano that I have had since I was seventeen, and their eyes were not just shining, they were hopeful, trusting and grateful.  And then the sad part.

There were a few, too vulnerable and not able to trust, who committed but couldn’t come.  Too RAW!.  They have built walls, large ones, that prevent happiness, love, and the biggest thing, being able to give out of themselves more than having to be stroked, cajoled and making others feel  responsible for their feelings.  The saddest and the hardest to help because they will not help themselves.

I hate that these miss the love, the family that is available, but that is the wall they choose to hide behind, the love they choose to miss, and all we can do when they are adults is love them and let them be. Allow them to be who they are and love them unconditionally without letting them own us and make us enter their sad world.  We pray and hope they can find their own path to happiness through loving God more than loving where they are.

But my own, my family, my twelve plus grands.  You are awesome, you accept, you love, you do not judge, you just roll with what happens and who comes.  You are my heart, and you give out of my heart and your own to those who need our love.  I’m blessed by you.

300px_web

BELIEVE IN

The Night Before Thanksgiving when all goes awry!

 

Adotion Thing Logo Final-1

IMG_7874_edited

Woke early, tis the eve of Thanksgiving and there is so much cooking

Got breakfast, and washing, and toasted the GF bread for stuffing.

Final list on my phone, including Vet trip and medicine for the dog.

Got Brandy, egg nog and finally stopped.  Driving.  End of rhyming.

I couldn’t possibly  begin now to outline just what can happen in a house as full as mine when you really need to get some things out of the way before the great day.

I left before some were up including one that had a red patch on her calf last night which I was lead to believe was bite.  She is the one that attracts the very last mosquito and has welts from every attack of the flying creatures.

But then also on the menu for today was the seventeen year old who had a red “mole” grow suddenly on her butt, that had been removed the week before.  Call from the dermatologist and it is a dodgy “juvenile melanoma, not dangerous, but has some oddities.  More butt surgery for her at 2.30.

Rog takes the dermatologist and I take the pediatrician.  Noon, still no cooking.

Then child with butt surgery informs, which is a way of asking without getting a no, that she has eleven people over for a fire pit at five thirty and would like to learn to make an apple pie, to impress them of course.

So I go to the pediatrician who orders hot compresses, and medicine to be picked up of course, for the cellulitis that is now forming around an infection, commonly called a boil.  Of course she is so incapacitated that she needs my crutches from knee surgery.

Arrived home, now the home made apple pie which I realize if I don’t start peeling granny smith apples we will be here all day and she has to leave for surgery in less than an hour.  Well at least I bought the pastry crust otherwise we would have never got done.

Enlist the other nearly seventeen year old to help and as I go to empty the peelings into one of the three sinks in my amazing commercial kitchen which I need, I trip over the sleeping blind, or nearly blind dog and in an effort not to damage the post surgery knee, slam three fingers on my right hand into the edge of my most amazing granite counters.

I am dropped to my knees.  I am crying, no yelling crying, not even ugly, just howling from the pain in my fingers which feel like they are severed from my body let alone my hand.  It wasn’t until later I realized there was a big bump on the bone of my arm where I somehow slammed it.  But, my knee is fine.

So, the wonder of family here is, that although they all wanted to, and were sleeping on the couch, watching TV etc, the moment I got hurt, they all rallied.  Butt surgery child reprimanded her father for not acting fast enough, and got the ice pack.  Made me sit and fussed over me.  Rog watched on, somewhat in shock, because he had never heard me howl like that.  He’s outside right now making sure there is not a full moon.

So now with fat fingers, I directed the cooking and we made a flourless chocolate cake, excellent, scalloped potatoes, cornbread for the dressing, peeled and cut up all the butternut squash for the roasted brussels sprouts, squash, pecan and cranberry warm salad with maple syrup of course.  Thawed the turkey for stuffing, the other gets fried, the hunk of rib-eye, and cleaned everything after cooking and prep.  Just remembered to get out the salmon!!

So fat fingers, a stitched up butt, and a swollen impending boil, is just how we roll.  Thanksgiving will be just that.  Thankful for all of my family and the ones that surround it.  The ones that don’t have family like the kids around my fire pit who I am feeding pizza on the eve of Thanksgiving.  Tomorrow a mere 35 or so.

Be thankful guys,  even when it doesn’t quite go how you want it to.  Make lemonade!

I am not a perfect person, I pick up the

300px_web

Adoption…. Fostering……When the paperwork creates overwhelm

Adotion Thing Logo Final-1

IMG_7874_edited

I remember very well the first time I was handed that huge wad of paperwork.  Talk about overwhelm!   Where did I start?  Lots of things ran through my head.

Ah, how much do I want to do this?

Surely there is an easier way?

What if I don’t measure up?

Why are they talking about fostering?

I just want to adopt, OK?

What do you mean parenting classes?

And so on, and so on.  But, for me, for us, the call was greater than the paperwork.  And there is a ton.  Not for the feint of heart, but worth every minute of the process.

The fingerprints, the home study, all those questions about you and how you think, what you think, DO you think.

In my day, some eighteen odd years ago, and then again about eight years ago, it varied between agencies.  And those have changed now too.  There are a lot more private ones over your local Department Of Children’s Services where we first went for our first training.

And the support or should I say WHAT support?

It was no wonder that after the first class some dropped out until week ten and only the die-hards were left.  We were among them.  You see, we cried in the first session and it only became more heart wrenching after that.  If I didn’t come because I wanted to, I would have stayed because of the need that was before my eyes and my heart.

I can honestly say to all of you who are wondering if this journey is for you, you will never look back again at the world the same way.  You will be forever changed even if you never foster, you will now know.

You will be now be informed

Fostering is not on my horizon at the moment, I won’t say never because when I do, that becomes a challenge to God.  But, I do want to encourage those who have that small voice in their minds, and their hearts are breaking for a child, to be led into this magical, heartbreaking, joyous, sad, meaningful, desolate, rewarding, misunderstood adventure.

Your blessing will be greater than you could ever imagine in ways you could never imagine

You will carry the joy and shed the tears for the ones you cared for, and the ones you are still caring for.  You will never forget their faces, and you will carry them in your heart forever.  You will suddenly realize this is the biggest achievement in your life and the life of someone who really needed you, more than you needed them.

Your heart may get broken a little, but you will put tiny broken hearts back together, piece by piece, a little at a time until they are whole again.

And if, or when they go from your life, you will hold memories, photos, testimonies that will remind you of why you did this.  Why you loved a child unconditionally, without restrictions or parameters, contracts or conditions.  You will never forget them, and trust me, they will never forget you.

It is a lonely life sometimes, the one of the foster/adoptive parent.  One that is not understood, one sometimes overlooked, taken for granted.

 But, that is the very reason I CHOSE to be Life Coach to foster/adoptive parents.  It is a journey not everyone will understand, but I do. You see I fostered over fifty children, and adopted eight.  I know what you face every day, I know what you feel, what you worry about and what you need in the way of encouragement.

Contact me for any reason.  I am here.  I offer a free session to anyone on this journey.  Just put your name in the email sign up and I will contact you.

I am not a perfect person, I pick up the

300px_web

Letting Your First Foster Child Go

Adotion Thing Logo Final-1

IMG_7874_edited

As vividly as I remember my first two arriving, I remember just as clearly the day the first one left.

The first of many, not to be the last, or forgotten.

This one went with joy!

I had sworn of course that I was not going back to diapers but, there I was with twins, and double diapers.  As usual the call came late in the afternoon, and this time he was a baby, eleven weeks old.  Not sure, I needed or wanted that, but there was no-where else for him to go.

He had an older sister and a a brother who were going to a young childless couple not far from where we lived.  But they had never had a baby, and this tiny one needed a little extra help, or that was the story.

I can tell you he needed MORE than a little extra help.

He arrived with a Child Protective Services worker as it was after hours.  He had dark hair that seemed to be oiled, a thin face, with large brown eyes that darted here and there.  His mouth seemed too big for his little face and he seemed very underweight.  I wasn’t sure exactly what I had here, but my instincts were, “something is not right”!

He seemed so fragile as I undressed him for a much needed bath.  His little body had hardly any fat on it, no chubby cheeks or rolls that are usual with a baby of this age.  He was agitated and I tried to soothe him, sing to him as I bathed him.  The bath water turned from clear to very dirty and after drying him off,  he was fair with blonde hair!

Comfort and snuggles were needed.  Amazing hubby took care of the twins and the older two at home got dinner together as I rocked this little one and tried to feed him his bottle.  The crying and agitation went on all night.  If I fed him he cried and cried.  I tried every position to hold him, he still cried.

By morning I was at the pediatrician.  By midday I was at the children’s hospital.  His ribs had been broken, he had been severely shaken.  He had gastric reflux, easier to fix that maybe the permanent damage that had been done to his body, and his brain.

I prayed over him, and for him again and again as I waited, just as we had done for him the night before.  This was my first experience of physical abuse, and in a child not even three months old, my heart was breaking for him.

Well, the story became a miraculous one.  After a full body scan to determine extent of injury and if there were any more breaks in his body, I was told they could not believe that his brain was intact.  Perfectly normal, but his ribs would wear large callouses where they had been broken.

He should have been permanently brain injured, but through prayer and the belief in healing, he was going to be fine.

I said goodbye to our little one three months later.  He was chubby, smiling, laughing, cooing, in fact a delight.  He went to be with the couple who had his older siblings.  I was so full of happiness because they told us they could not have their own baby and never thought they would be able to experience that wonderful joy!

He grew up to be amazing, and the young couple?  Well, they ended up getting pregnant against all odds, not once, but twice.  They gave not expecting and received and reaped the fruits of their love and labor.

Today, many of us are too busy to notice the growing number of children that stay in the foster system, some with no hope of a forever home, and some who cannot be found homes because they maybe a little “scary”.

If this tugs at your heart and you want to know more, or you have a child that you need to talk with someone about, please contact me.  I always offer a free mini session to see whether coaching is for you.

Until next time, next story, have a wonderful day and remember, “It’s better to build a child, than try to fix an adult” (Dave Thomas).

300px_web

IGNITE YOUR PASSION_FIND YOUR PURPOSE