Today is 1,095 days that my Peanuts have been in foster care.
And still no word from the adoption case worker. It has been almost 1 month since turning in all our paperwork. I know some of you have been asking and that is the current update.
Throwback
– Testimonial –
Warning : Grab a Kleenex ~
3 years ago today it was Monday morning and I was at Perkins with my mom waiting for social services to call me back so I could visit with the case worker about letting the kids stay with us. We already had the boys. And we had help from people all weekend with advice on how to approach and get things started to make sure the kiddos remained with us.
It was so beyond nerve racking. I had barely slept in 2 days. I had not been able to see baby Peanut since the night she was born because the bio parents banned me from the hospital.
I was warding off phone call, after phone call, from my sister yelling in voicemails to bring the boys to the hospital. They had no clue that we had been helped and given advice on how to keep the boys safe until social services could help the kids that Monday morning.
I don’t even remember if I ate my food that morning. I was looking at my phone constantly, even though my ringer was on. My mom and I both had such desperate expressions.
Nolan took off of work to be at home with the kids (we still homeschooled Kady, Danté and Evy, and both of the Older Peanuts were already at our house). Occasionally we texted each other to make sure we hadn’t heard from the case workers, and Nolan was keeping me updated on where he was when he left, and what he had accomplished that morning.
I was exhausted from the day before because I had spent the whole day talking with on-call social workers who covered the weekend shift, and police. Emotions were extremely high and I was plumb burnt out and we were just getting started.
My friend Amanda, was also on stand-by as Nolan and the kids were prepping our stuff so we could crash at her house for a few days. We knew that we needed to be away from the house when my sister and the father left the hospital that morning. We needed a safe place that no one knew where to find us. Amanda, you have no idea how much you mean to us. You seriously are a gift from God. I am so thankful He put you in our lives.
My leg wouldn’t stop bouncing. I was shaking. I felt the need to get out of the booth at Perkins and run 10 miles, but could barely move because I was exhausted. I was sick to my stomach. I was in shock. “Is this really happening?” “How is this happening?”
I was running on sheer adrenaline and love. When we love someone, we will walk through fire to save them. Or at least that is how I felt and have continued to feel, every day since. As a mom, we always know we will do it for our kids, but we almost never have to do it. Let alone for our nieces or nephews.
I was freaking out and falling apart on the inside, yet, looked calm and put together on the outside. This would become my normal function for almost 2 years. Constantly running and fighting off the enemies of this world while trying to keep my armor of God securely fastened. It must have worked because people always mentioned they had no idea how I have been able to handle it all.
All the while, I had never felt so desperate, so hopeless, so helpless, and so defeated, yet determined, ahead of the game and strong all at once.
My faith must be strong. Because over the last 3 years so many people have commented that they have no idea how we do it. I saw many “deer in the headlight” looks when picking up the kids after a much-needed break. I knew that usually meant “I want to help, but I am not sure if I can handle this. Call if you really need it, but I am not sure if I can do this often”. Those words were never spoken, but I knew. I knew it because deep inside, I was feeling it too. I cried every day for 8 months. I never cry. It takes something pretty powerful to make me cry; good or bad. And I was a sobbing mess for months.
I would also learn with little trickles here and there, from many professionals, just how difficult our case was in every area. Older Peanut made some words, but mostly it was noises. He was almost 6 years old. To how the parents conducted themselves. To my sister stealing my identity to avoid being arrested, and the awesome police doing their research before showing up to arrest me for her crimes (another Devine moment; thank you so much, Blue Line). To the people, they hung out with. I know for a fact that the Mexican mafia is here, and there is a good chance I probably shouldn’t be telling you that. There are so many things. So many many things. And I have no stinking clue how in the world I have been able to handle all of it.
But God!
It is all because of Him. Seriously, that is NOT an attempt at a cliché. If it was not for my prayer life leading up to that Monday morning, and my faith coming into this, and His amazing anointing; I would have fallen apart.
You see, those 1st, 8 months when I cried every day. I almost gave up 3-4-10-20 times. I wasn’t counting. But there were 3 times that I can vividly recall that the phone was in my hand, the number was dialed. All I had to do was press the little green call button to make the call, and speak the words that I was throwing in the towel. Begging for an opportunity to visit them and go back to being just an auntie. To give us some peace. Some sleep.
We were grieving the loss of our current life. In the grief, we had to live with constant attacks from the enemy. While dealing with all of that, I had a dozen people scheduling dozens of appointments for the Peanuts because they needed it. I had no control over my schedule. Not really anyways. Not if I was going to help the kiddos. All 3 had special needs. Speech 3-5x a week. Consults, shots, check-ups, dentists, eye exams, weekly development appointments to catch them up, IEP’s, paperwork— oh that paperwork. Everyone needs paperwork. Therapy, visitations, testing, more testing – my head was spinning. I broke down when someone wanted to schedule 30 minutes of my time, all because I could not do 1 more appointment. My calendar was packed and I really could not make room. Constant schedule changes, last minute rearrangements, sporadic appointments. My calendar went from business and leisure to full-time chaos.
We were working through severe delays in multiple areas, exposure in utero, FAS, RAD, Sensory, eating issues, hoarding, screaming – oh the screaming – so many things. We were not just working with taking on 3 adorable kiddos who have my heart and soul, we were battling 6 years of neglect. Oh, how Satan loves to be involved there. And we were battling grand enemies in the present.
The day came in November. I told Nolan, “I don’t think I can do this.”
And he was my rock. “I have faith, LaCota. Trust me. It’s going to be ok. Give it until January. I have faith.”
But a few days later, the phone was in my hand, the number was dialed and my finger was hovering over the send button. The kids were screaming. Kady and Dantè were trying to study. We were plum exhausted. It was a difficult day. And I stood there, and almost like a cue card was raised with directions on what to do next, i started to cry again. As I stood there looking at all 6 of them I fell into my chair and sobbed. I loved them so much, I refused to give up. I was going to do this. God chose me, I knew He called me to it, and I knew one day I would be able to say, He brought us through it.
So many questions swirled in my head. How could all of this happen under our noses? How did we not see it? If my own sister could have done this, how could I not look at the world differently?
It could also be our neighbors, our family, our distant friends, anyone. Right now, 2 houses down, those adorable neighbor kids could be in the same situation. How would anyone know?
I dusted myself off, threw another load of cloth diapers in the washer and carried on, clinging to God and my faith that He was going to bring us through.
God has an amazing way of showing up. He showed up in such gigantic ways over the last 3 years.
He constantly planted people, divine people, people that I would not have ever guessed and could have ever prayed for, starting even before Baby Peanut was born.
From the friend from church who saw me falling apart in the hospital hallway the night Baby Peanut was born because I had a huge bomb land in my lap an hour earlier, and she was critical, and I had no idea if they would get her breathing. I was all alone. Or that is what I thought. He bought us a car seat, not even knowing what was going to happen to her, or if they would live with us or if this whole thing would be a fail in many areas – he bought it anyways. And then he surprised us with it by leaving it in the nursery for me to find (I was still allowed in the nursery that night after she was stable).
To the people who had been in my shoes – an amazing aunt – who raised her two nieces for years before their dad came into the picture, and was able to comfort and give me advice.
To the experienced people who knew how to give me advice on the next steps.
To the Bible stories, I had read earlier that week, and me having no clue I would even need them.
To the scriptures that God showed me that Monday morning 1,095 days ago.
To the people throughout the last 3 years who were in waiting rooms, and knew the address to social services when I needed to give it to receptionists because they happened to be case workers.
To the people in stores who recognized the special needs, the friends from church who provided above and beyond that first Christmas for my kids even when we didn’t ask, the anonymous donations that carried us through those first 6 months.
To God preparing me ahead of time with a business that still provides a paycheck 3 years later, even though I have not built it in 3 years.
To the signs and wonders as I would be driving, and the random strangers on the street, at parks, the zoo; you name it.
To friends.
To the Peanut’s amazing aunt who showed up for that first awkward and terrifying visit, who knew me and vice versa and how it helped ease my tension. She had no clue I had been praying for a sign that everything was going to be ok, or that I had prayed that we would be able to become friends with the amazing family I have actually grown to love.
The fact that every single week, on multiple occasions there was always someone that God strategically placed in our path on purpose who would be an answer to my prayers, a comforter to my anguish, and someone to bring us exactly what we needed. Be it a word, an item, a helping hand, an address, a familiar face, another foster parent, a doctor, a friend or someone who knew exactly which scripture I needed to hear that day.
I could spend all day typing the amazing things we have experienced while we have walked this deep valley.
But 3 years ago today, 1,095 days ago, I sat in the office with the very first case worker and was told, “No we will not place the kids with you”
And I fell apart completely. Inside and out. If I could have been a puddle. I would have.
But then God!
God turned it around so fast I still can’t even begin to wrap my head around how.
But in a matter of that sentence being stated, to 5-10 minutes later when my mom and I walked down the hall to give another other case worker info on the kids for their foster family, something changed and I heard, “We will place the kiddos with you. I just need to see your house first.”
And my response – “I can take you right now.”
And I did. And it was all perfect. And There was God’s peace. And I knew we would be ok.
I can never fully describe everything. But today, and probably every year for the rest of my life, this time of year will always be a time of reflection. Because God kept me 10 steps ahead of everything, every single time. From protecting us and the kids from some really bad stuff to anointing us and providing for us some even larger and more powerful blessings.
This time of year is where I reflect and remember how my faith went from “I have faith” to “No one could ever talk me out of my faith. God is not dead. And He worked in such powerful ways that No one on this planet could ever take that away. I now have Super Faith!”
God is amazing. And I have Baby Peanut’s pacifier in my vehicle, hanging from my mirror to always remind my family and me, that God is up there, He has His anointing on us. And a reminder that we as a family have walked through the most invasive, terrifying, traumatic, dark, desperate, valley possible; and we came out together stronger as a family because of it!
Because of God!
We are still working out the scars that were caused and created – but with God, I know that everything has already been restored to us.
Thank You, Jesus!
Personal Reflection:
Can you think of a time when someone or something came into your life at exactly the right time?
What was it? How can you relate it to God’s helping hand?
Do you believe it was a Devine placement?
How can you apply your experience to helping someone else overcome a struggle in their life? Your own life?