Chapter 30: In Which I do a little foot stomping and fist shaking

I am angry.  I am sad.  I am confused.  I feel hopeless, used, empty.  crushed.  Let it be known, this will not be a happy post.  But also know, I will not feel as sad when I finish this as you might think I am.  Writing makes me feel better.  It is cathartic.  I need to organize my thoughts.  My head is spinning in a million different ways and I just need to find my focus again.  I have a pretty good idea of where that focus will be in the end.  But first- I need to hack some proverbial jungle leaves with a machete and then I'll feel better about where I end up.

On Wednesday our caseworker came over for her monthly check-in.  This time she came with her supervisor- something new and different.  Maybe, I thought, something positive is happening.  As always, I air my grievances about how visits with Brenda are going.  I tell her how I think she would make an amazing grandmother-type figure in his life, I truly don't think she's capable of keeping up with a toddler.  The supervisor offers some tangible advice about what her plan of action is: to make sure that the doctor will be honest with his recommendation on her medical form she still needs to get, or she will try to intervene.  Awesome.  Someone on my side finally.  The caseworker tells the supervisor how Brenda has gotten her house approved, but nothing else on her certification-to-do-list.  No classes, fingerprints, medical form, etc.  The supervisor asks why not?  We both shrug our shoulders.

The supervisor looks at me, "Well- as you know, we always consider family first."

"Well, here's the thing," the caseworker chimes in..."The grandfather has said that if the aunt won't get him, that he will adopt him."

WHAT?!?!

"Why didn't they just get him when he was born then?"  the supervisor asks.

"Two babies was too much for them to handle with them both working." she says. "But next year, the grandmother is retiring."

WHAT!?!?

I am Alice falling down the rabbit hole.  I always knew that Brenda was "Plan A."  But I never never NEVER imagined I was "PLAN C."  There was hope when I was Plan B. One thing fell through and Josiah was a part of OUR forever family.  Why did no one tell us this until now?

I feel lied to and deceived.  What do I look like?  Someone who will "babysit" your grandchild for you until you decided that it is convenient for you to take him back?!?!

Of course my mind races back to the bonding evaluation.  What if he is too bonded to us?  Then my imagination takes me to the court room where the judge says, "I am ruling in favor of the foster parents instead of the child's biological grandparents who already have his biological brother."  That sounds ridiculous.  I think about our foster child Nino who was 18 months when we got him, who maybe cried for a day before he was absolutely fine with us and didn't even ask for his mom.  I think about my nephew Jesse who stayed with his foster mom until he was two and a half and now doesn't even remember her name or recognize pictures of her.

I can't imagine I will be anything in Josiah's future, at best a distant foggy memory of feeling safe and happy and loved.  Yes, of course they have told us we will still have contact.  But do I even want contact with him, seeing how happy he is without me?  Or worse, seeing how unhappy he is living in a home that isn't mine?

I should be happy he's loved by so many people.  I should be grateful that the problem is that too many people want him.  I should be happy he might live with his "real" brother.  But what about Molly?  He's more of a brother to her than to his biological brother.  What have I done to my poor daughter?  It wasn't her choice to lose her brother.  I did this to her.

I am planning my lengthy plea to Josiah's family, where I'm on my knees sobbing that they don't take my son away from me.

But he's not my son.  He never was.  At least not by name, anyway.  I have no claim over him whatsoever.  I just don't understand why God would put him in my life and make me think I had an actual chance to keep him.  This was a life I chose for myself though.  I knew there was a chance of this happening.  And knowing what I do now, I still would have chosen to take him into our home in a heartbeat, no questions asked.  I love that boy.  And I love being his mama.  And I love what he has made me family because he's in it.

Lately I've been listening to my Bible on CD while I feed the babies breakfast.  When I heard the latest news, I popped in I Samuel.  I want to be Hannah.  I want to be okay placing my baby's future in God's hands.  I can clearly remember praying the prayer she prayed.  "God, if you give me a son, I will give him to You."  I wonder if Hannah ever said to God, "Okay, I know that's what I prayed, but I only said that so You'd give me what I wanted.  Do I HAVE to give him to You?  I really really want to keep him for myself- to watch him grow.  I will do all the right things, raise him the right way, teach him about You.  Are you SURE Your plan is to leave him in the temple with a priest I don't even know?"

I don't know if she prayed that or not, but if she did, I think God would take her back to the first time she met Eli when he accused of of being a crazy drunk lunatic.  He would remind her of her first prayer and tell her that He was going to glorify Himself through her sacrifice.

God took me back to the time we had him dedicated at our church last July- almost a year ago now.  I remember Justin telling the congregation through broken sobs of how we would be losing our son any week now.  I remember praying for Josiah's future and telling God that we trusted Him with it.  I didn't imagine it.  I said it, I prayed it, and in that moment, I really meant it.  But now, when I think this story isn't going to end with God blessing us with our son permanently, can I renegotiate?  Please?

My heart is breaking at the anticipation of loss.  I can feel the small hairline fractures creeping in.

What's better?  To live my life there is hope of it being how I want it to be?  Or to live realistically, bracing myself for pain?  If I pray that he stays and he doesn't, am I going to be angry at this God I put all my trust in?  If I guard my heart, and realistically look down the corridor of my future and not see Josiah there, am I going to start building walls, and force people out of my life because they remind me of him?

I think I need to go back and read some old posts.  I need to pick up some of those old stones I started stacking long ago, feel their weight, remembering the joy I had when I placed them at the feet of my King and told Him I trusted what he was doing even though I didn't understand how He would work all things out for good because I loved Him and was called according to His purpose.

It feels like rain.  A change in the natural order of things.