Nothing yet - grief continued.

After trying to call Niblet's family at the phone number they said they were keeping when they moved, and getting no answer or answering machine, we decided to write them. We sent them a simple Easter card and said we hoped they were settled in at their new place and that we'd love to see Niblet soon, so please call us. We put my cell number, as our home voicemail sometimes craps out. (VoIP is cheap, and that's it's only redeeming factor.)

Even though they moved, it was within the same zip code, so even though we don't have their new address, it should get to them with very little delay. So they should have received the card by now and we haven't heard from them. Granted, it's only been a few days and they have 3 kids keeping them busy.

However, we're bracing ourselves for the possibility that they're not going to call. The real fear is that someone, the county caseworker, one of the other social workers on the case, etc., has told them not to allow us to have contact with Niblet. Or that it would be a good idea to not allow contact. If that's the case, then we have very little chance of ever seeing Niblet again. Because, really, of course they would do it. They don't know us from a hole in the wall, and they want to adopt Niblet, so of course they would do whatever the People In Charge say to do. I'd do it, too.

My next plan is to call the county case worker (the same Evil One who was Niblet's worker when we had her) and cheerfully say that we've lost touch with Niblet since they moved and would she please pass our phone number on to them. It would give her a chance to hem and haw and say whether she thinks that's a good idea - at which point I'd probably argue with her, because what do I have to lose?

Fostermama's on the fence. She's not sure she wants to pursue it. And I see her point. Niblet is in a safe family now. She doesn't need us. She would, I assume, be happy to see us, but really it's all about our need to see her.

I feel selfish, but, really, it's such a weird situation. We basically had our child taken away from us. Sure, we knew it was happening, we knew she was going back to her father, but by that point she was already ours. And we were hers. The county fucked up. They never should have returned her to her bioparents. They never should have returned her and NOT CHECKED UP ON HER. They should have left well enough alone.

And then I would have my baby girl. She would be here right now, playing in the living room, or eating dinner. I would be with her, because I wouldn't be here blogging about losing her. She is almost 3 years old and we would be working on her application to the Montessori preschool nearby. She would be adopted and we would have changed her name to the one we chose for her, the one we called her by for most of the time she was with us. We might even be thinking about getting ready to adopt a sibling for her.

Instead, she's out there somewhere living her life without me. Yes, we have Squeak. And I don't, for one second, wish I didn't have him. I love him with all my heart. However, I do wish I had her. If everything had worked out as it should have, we would have her and not him. And that would be okay. Because I wouldn't know what I was missing. This way, we do have Squeak and all the goodness that he is, but we also know what we've lost.

Sometimes, it's really the worst pain I can imagine. I can't sugarcoat it. I feel horrible crying for the baby I lost when I have my wonderful son sitting right there, being his wonderful little self, everything I ever wanted. I feel horrible thinking about a world where I didn't have him, and wishing for it. It makes me wish I'd never heard of adopting through fostercare.