Yesterday I had a Very Bad Day. Snafus just kept happening, left and right. I was out, unexpectedly waiting for a bus, for a very long time, with Squeak in tow. And once it came, I couldn't just take it home and flop, because I had to pick up Niblet for our visit and didn't have time to go home first.
I didn't mind. The whole crappy morning was going to be okay, because I was going to pick up Niblet and have her almost-2-year-old kinetic happiness for the rest of the day.
But, of course, there was a snafu in that plan, too. Her dad answered the door and said that there had been some family emergency and Niblet was with his sister (or his daughter, I forget) in a town about 20 minutes away. I confirmed that there wasn't anything wrong with Niblet and said I hoped everything turns out okay. He said we could come get her next Sunday, same time.
Next Sunday is Mother's Day and I don't think her dad realized that. I'm not certain that they'd want her for Mother's Day, but chances are they would. And her birthday's coming up, too, and I meant to ask them if they're doing anything for it, but I was so exhausted and upset and he didn't really want to talk to me at that point, so I just left. He did say that he'd left me a message a few hours before, but of course I hadn't been home all day, so I didn't get it. Argh.
Walking away from his house, pushing Squeak in the stroller, I started crying. I couldn't stop. My day had already pushed me to the edge and I had no coping strategies left.
I miss Niblet. She's growing and changing. She is not the person she would have been if she stayed with us. And I mourn for that lost person. I mourn for the lost opportunity to raise her. I simply miss seeing her precious face every day.
I wish that we were in a place in our lives where we could offer to be their backup in an emergency. I don't know if they'd accept that offer, but I'd like to be able to do it. Unfortunately, we'd still be pretty overwhelmed having her around for a full day or more.
I think what I'm feeling is my broken heart. It's still broken. No matter how much I love Squeak (which is a lot, to say the least), Niblet was my first baby and I lost her. There's no fixing that.
"Making the decision to have a child—it's momentous. It is to decide forever to have your heart go walking outside your body." —Elizabeth Stone
This is particularly true of fostering. It's deciding to have your heart broken into many pieces and then never see those pieces again. With Niblet, she has my heart, no doubt. And it's okay, most of the time. But when I expect to see her, to reconnect with my heart, and then I'm denied, well, it's a strain on the pieces of my heart that are left behind.
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9 comments:
My heart hurts for you- as i read this post- i am reminded that my gracie will be leaving soon and tho there is the current promise that I can see her whenever I want- take her for weekends- my heart breaks that she will not have the kind of life I can offer her- but a life of extreme poverty instead. It brings tears to my eyes to think of this for you too. Hang in there.
I am so with you, FM. I am sorry for your loss - for your heart - and for hers, too.
I am so glad you have Squeak and that he'll be yours forever!
BTW, I think I am going to link to this post because I started to write a much longer comment here and then stopped :-) I hope that's OK.
Many, many hugs.
I can feel your pain so deep...because I have felt it too. It's just so hard.
When love is lost, do not bow your head in sadness; instead keep your head up high and gaze into heaven for that is where your broken heart has been sent to heal.
I'm sorry. That's really, really hard.
That is my favorite quote about motherhood. I am so sorry, I can't even imagine.
I have not been reading your blog for a long time, so I don't know all the details, but I have an idea.
We had a sibling set of little ones before Christmas, and we kept in close contact with the bios. When the boys went home, she actually asked us if we would legally take the boys if anything happened to them. We paid the attorney to hep her draw up the papers that if something were to happen to her we are their "back up" family.
I'm sorry you're hurting. It's got to be so difficult. I'm in the process of adopting a little boy right now and his foster mother has behaved somewhat strangely with me. I think your post explains why. Even she never planned to adopt him, it has to hurt to see him go. Again, I'm sorry for your pain, but I thank you for the lesson you just taught me. I already knew it, but I needed reminding.
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