Avoid the Moon

The last few weeks or so, Josiah was obsessed with the moon.  Goodnight moon was his favorite book, and he would be so proud of himself every time he could find the moon in the picture and point it out to me.  When I would take him out of his car seat at night time, he would look up at the sky, point up and say, "Moon?" "Moon?"  I would take his chubby little hand in mine, and point it in the direction of the moon, and we would have our own little celebration and dance party in the driveway when we found it.  And then there was a big magnet of snowmen I have on my dishwasher that has moon and stars on it.  He wouldn't pass it without showing me he knew exactly where the moon was.

The part of me that desires to feel better, to stop crying and wear contact lenses again, to feel normal and productive, wants to put away everything that reminds me of the moon.  The magnet, the book, bananas, crescent rolls, etc.  Maybe there will be a day when I can look at them and not cry.  Today is not the day.

And then there is the other part that wants to be deliberate about my grieving.  I want to do it well and treat it as a season- one with a beginning and an end.  I feel like if I face some of the ugliness now, it's not going to come bubbling up when I least expect it and slap me in the face like a cold fish and spiral me into a depression.  I want to take every thought and make it captive to Christ, and I guess I'm struggling with which thoughts come from Him and which come from me.  And, I'm afraid that if I put away everything that reminds me of Josiah (which is about 75% of the things in my house) that when the time comes for me to take them out again, I will have forgotten all of the tiny details that I so desperately don't want to forget about him....like how his curly hair would tickle my lips when he sat on my lap when I read him Goodnight Moon, or how if I was reading on the floor on my belly, he would step inside the nest my arms made and lean his head against mine, or how he would point to the picture of the moon with his right thumb four or five times to make sure that I noticed and praised him.  I don't want to forget.

But then the other day, Molly was walking past my dishwasher, and pointed to the moon and looked at me and clearly said, "Moon?"  I didn't know she knew that.  Josiah had taught her.  And I know I shouldn't put it away because she is so proud of herself that she found it without his help.  And I know I can't not go outside at night forever.  I can not avoid the moon.

I've decided that just because memories are painful doesn't mean they aren't blessings.  There will be a time when I can read Goodnight Moon again without crying, and when that time comes, I can praise God for the healing He will bring and the tiny detail-filled memories of Josiah I will be able to recall that are so sweet and precious to me.

Maybe today when I make Molly her lunch I will cut her sandwich in the shape of moon.  I think Josiah would have liked that.  Maybe Molly will too.    

What I Wasn't Expecting

I knew this day could be coming for 20 months, and I knew it was coming for 2.  So I thought that I would be prepared for when it did.  I told myself how nice it would be to be a family of 3 for a little while.  I could get out of the house more, have more time for cooking and cleaning and housework, enjoy Molly by herself, and of course, change less diapers.  I actually started convincing myself that I was looking forward to it so much that I would welcome this season of life and be a productive person again.

What I wasn't expecting was how exhausted I would be.  I skipped over the thought that I would have to grieve the loss of Josiah.  But that is just where I find myself. I am sad.  And I'm not saying I want to wallow in loss.  I know that I am abundantly blessed to have my daughter and another baby on the way. I'm not trying to lessen the gifts that they are.  But I know what trying to skip the season of grieving has done to me before.  It has lead to distancing myself from other people, becoming bitter and angry at God, and refusing to let God meet me where I was.

There are so many lessons that Josiah has taught me that I still need to write down.  Thinking about them makes me walk in dark places, but I would be foolish for wanting to skip over them in hopes of making myself feel better sooner.  So I will choose to let it hurt, not just because it is good for me to remember, but because I believe I will meet God in new and real ways when I let Him do the healing in the way that only He can.

During the time I have been Josiah's mommy, I have been blessed to meet a new friend.  Her name is Megan and she lives in Colorado.  Her son Sam lives in heaven, and the way she writes about her journey of loss and grief is so beautiful that it makes me not only less afraid of the darkness, it makes me excited about how I will meet Christ between now until the time comes when I can enjoy the light again.

In one of her posts about blessing and suffering she writes...

"I have a few dear ones in mind as I write, who are suffering in these dark days. Dear ones, I am excited for you. Excited. Because there is great blessing in identifying yourself with the Cross through suffering, and I experience this blessing daily. The point of suffering is not to get through it, or get over it, learn to prevent it, or make it go away. I will not have triumphed over suffering the day I forget my grief. The point of suffering is not to wallow in it or to let it determine your goodness. The point of suffering is not to teach a lesson (though many lessons do we learn through it). The point of suffering is to walk with Christ, in the moments before salvation was accomplished, adoring the blood on His brow, treasuring His pain, taking it as your own. For in so experiencing the Cross, we experience blessing."  


So here goes...  


It is 12:30 in the afternoon.  And I'm still in my pajamas.  And I think that's ok for now.  

Today

My son is gone.  And I am sad.

The past few days I have been working hard to get things packed as we send Josiah on his journey to his new home.  It was agonizing thinking, "Should I send this book? and that toy? and this stuffed animal?"  I know Molly enjoys them too, but the thought of Josiah never getting to play with a something he loved so much made me really sad.  So we probably sent more than we should have.  It was strange to think almost two years of his life could be contained in a 36 gallon rubbermaid container.  I think all the important things made it in, hopefully.

I've been so consumed with working and getting things ready, that today I was ready for a respite.  A time of enjoying quiet, and adjusting to one baby, and starting to decorate the nursery that I never had time to do before now.  But the house isn't as quiet and still as I imagined it would be.  I fear the work ahead of me will be much, much harder than the work behind me.  Because now the house is still filled with Josiah.  I hear his little voice as I look at his half-filled juice cup that he'll never finish, and I hear the sound of him throwing the blocks that I see that are still on the floor that he was playing with an hour ago, and I see the empty high chair he'll never sit in again.  Except, I still see him sitting there, throwing his banana on the floor, looking at me as he's doing it, and laughing.  I feel the feelings I still did when I tried to pretend like I was mad at him for throwing the food in the first place.

He is everywhere still.  His footsteps, his laugh, his deep little voice saying, "Ma Ma" and the words to all of the books he knew so well.  I can't believe I'll never get to hear him and see him again.  It seems so strange and surreal right now.  I miss him.  A lot.  I loved the person I was when I got to call myself his mom.  And I fear I'll miss her too.  

There is still so much work to be done.  Right now I am content to let every painful memory sting a little because, after all, they were all such sweet memories and blessings that God gave to me.  I am content to let him linger in the house just a little while longer.  

Yesterday and Tomorrow

Yesterday, in regular DYFS fashion, the caseworker called and wanted to reschedule Josiah's moving day.  They wanted to pick him up right after court on Thursday.

I had a melt-down on the phone.

"But....*sniff*...Justin and I took off of....*sniff*...work on Friday...*sniff*....and we got substitutes...*sniff*...and I haven't started....*sniff*...packing yet....  And we just....*sob*sob*...wanted to spend Friday morning together as a....*sniff*....family....

The caseworker said it was all set and she had already called everyone to change it to Thursday.

"There's....*sniff*....nothing you can do?  You just told us that it was FRIDAY.... and we had planned our lives around FRIDAY."

"Well..." she seemed annoyed. "I guess I can call everyone back up and see what I can do.  But I'm not promising anything."

"Yes, please do that."  I hate you.  I hate you.  I hate you.  


Three hours later, it was scheduled back to Friday morning between 10 and 11.

Yesterday the word "tomorrow" seemed insurmountable.  It was scary and daunting and impossible.  Today the word "tomorrow" seems okay.  It means 24 hours together.  I can handle that.  I can get the packing done in time.  I can take more pictures.  I can feed him all of his favorite meals I know he will like.

God is so good to us.  He even gave us a snow day so that we could spend all of today together as a family!  Tomorrow is still a scary word, but I am trusting that God will give us the peace to do his will and do it well.

Friday is the day

Our caseworker called and said that no matter what happens at the mediation meeting on Thursday, she will be coming on Friday to pick Josiah up.

It feels strange to think this is it.  I have so many mixed emotions all jumbled up.  It pretty much changes every minute.

I'm ready. I'm not ready.

I want things to be over yesterday.  I want them to last forever just like this.

I can't imagine my life without this little boy in it.  I think about how nice it will be to spend time just with Molly for a little while.

I'm excited for him.  I'm scared for him.

I worry that he'll wake up and think we abandoned him.  I worry that he'll wake up and forget that we even existed.  

I don't want some caseworker driving him away from his home.  But I'm glad we don't have to deliver him.



Please keep us in your prayers this week.    

I am Thankful for Bed Bugs

Yes, you read that correctly.

Last week, I was overcome with loss, grief, and fear for Josiah's future.

This week I was too busy concerned with Josiah's present to consider what will be taking place the following week.

I wasn't a foster mom this week.  I was Josiah's real momma- fighting for his safety, his well-being, his comfort.  It felt good have the opportunity to advocate on his behalf this one last time.  And I tell you, it felt good to win one.  I may have lost the war, but I won a battle, and that one little victory tasted so sweet.

I think the sword is as equally heavy as the shield sometimes, but oh... to swing that thing around!  At least it felt like I was doing something besides just protecting myself from oncoming adversaries.

Score one in the victory column

Sometimes you just have to laugh.

I've been on the phone all week spouting my woes to whoever will listen.  Here's what the respective parties told me:


Case worker:  "I completely understand why you are so upset.  I have to go to their house once a month.  How do you think I feel?  I wish there was something I can do, but I can't.  They are court-ordered visits.  You should try calling the supervisor and see if she can do anything for you."

Supervisor:  "What did the DYFS nurse say?"
Me:  "The caseworker told me she said she didn't think Talen had any bites and that it's not very likely that they would get transfered on clothing."
Supervisor: "Why don't you call the DYFS nurse yourself, so you don't have to get your information from a third party?"
Why don't you walk down the hallway of your office and ask her yourself so you don't have to hear what she says from a fourth party?  

Nurse:  "Oh hello, Mrs. Benson.  I was JUST going to call you."
mmmm hmmmmmm......  
Nurse:  "If the bites were scabies, you would have known sooner because they would have infested your house already.  But since you don't have any problems, we're assuming the parents' bites they have are from bed bugs.  They have had them for the past three weeks."
GRRRRRREAAAAAATTTTTT.....
Nurse:  "There's no real reason to cancel visits because of them since they mostly live in beds and couches and not on people."
Me: "But there is a chance...I mean, what about eggs?  And I'm not going to assume that they can't climb on coats on in diaper bags.  Can you even see them?"
Nurse:  "The dad told me that they're a little bit smaller than a cockroach."
SERIOUSLY?!?!?  


(the next day)
Supervisor again:  "So what did the nurse tell you?"
Me:  "She said it's highly unlikely that people transfer them."
Supervisor:  "See?  It's not a reason to cancel a visit.  And I hate to say this, but this is probably the last visit you'll have to worry about anyway."
Thank you for the stab and then twisting the knife.  You're just lovely people, aren't you?


Law Guardian:  "Well, you could always send Talen covered in a hefty bag and cut a hole in the top for his head." *cackle*cackle*cackle*
Me: "I just don't want my house to be infested."  (not laughing.)
Law Guardian:  "We can't cancel a visit because of bed bugs.  You should just wash his clothes and give him a bath when he gets home."
That's your legal advice????


(9:50 this morning....40 minutes before Josiah gets picked up for his visit)


*Phone rings*
Caseworker:  "I'm calling to let you know that the visit has been canceled this morning because the parents have bed bugs."


Apparently someone somewhere pulled some strings.  Amazing what a little prayer and polite nagging will get you.


I'm doing a happy dance.  And the bugs can have their own dance party....far away from Josiah and my clean home.

What I Said and What I Should Have Said

What I said:  Goodmorning, caseworker.  I hate to call first thing in the morning after a 3 day weekend and start your week with someone complaining to you.  

What I should have said: I'm mad that you had Monday off, otherwise I would have called you sooner to chew you out.  


I'm calling to voice my concerns about Talen's visit on Thursday.

I'm calling to tell you how frustrated I am that all of you people are incompotent.  

I'm concerned, first of all, that it took a whole day to tell us that we should be aware that Talen may have been infested with bed bugs.

If a transportation worker forgets about bed bugs within the twenty minutes that it takes for her to get from the DYFS office to our house, you should fire her, and hire someone with the ability to retain information for at least a half an hour or more.  


And I'm concerned about the possibility of Talen spreading them to our house.  If I would have known, I would never have attempted putting him in his crib four feet away from my sleeping daughter as soon as he got home.  


Don't you realize how terrible they are!?!?  And that he could spread them to my one year old daughter who he shares a room with?!?!  You obviously care more about keeping court ordered visits than protecting other families' children.  


I know they are impossible to get rid of, and that we would need to move out of our house and get it tented and the bugs exterminated.  I can't afford to incur the cost of that!  


Please, continue the visits so the state will have to put more tax dollars into doing something to fix the mistakes of idiots.  It's not like our state is in debt, or anything.


I'm not comfortable with putting Talen or our family in danger.  I have a responsibility to keep everyone safe, and I don't agree that continuing the visits with his parents is what is best for Talen or my family.  


You can come on Thursday to pick him up, but we won't be here.  


Oh, sure, I'll call the supervisor and voice my concerns to her.  I know you don't have the power to do anything about it.  I don't mean to be difficult or complain, but I just wanted you to know that this isn't a situation I'm comfortable with, and if there was anything I could do about it, I wanted to try.  


Right, of course you can't do anything.  No one can.  No one wants to help.  No one wants to step on toes and go against what the stupid Judge says needs to be done.  So I'll keep calling until I find someone who will help me.  I'll be a witch to whoever I need to be a witch to.  I don't care.  


Thanks for letting me vent.  I'll call the supervisor.  Thank you for your time.  


I almost died of shock when you answered the phone the first time it rang.  I would think you would have made me leave a message and then conveniently forget to call me back.  Talking to me will probably be the most productive thing you will do all day.  

Can I just tell you how much I wish I could be a jerk sometimes?  At least posting this makes me feel better.

My Savior My God~Aaron Shust

I am not skilled to understand
What God has willed, what God is planned.
I only know at His right hand
Stands One who is my Savior.

Flipping Mad

If I was a cartoon character, I would have steam coming out of my ears.  Josiah went for his visitation on Thursday.  This is his 3rd in a row after the parents missed 11 weeks in a row before that.  But of course, they still have rights because our stupid state takes forever to terminate parental rights. Errrrrr..... But that's not the only reason I'm mad.

Our caseworker called on Friday (the day AFTER visitation) to tell us that the parents have bed bugs and to look for any rashes or bites that Josiah might have.  SERIOUSLY????? You're going to tell us 24 hours AFTER he could have been exposed to look for bed bugs!?!?!? If I would have known, I would have stripped him as soon as he walked in the door, whisked him upstairs for a bath, and thrown the diaper bag into the woodstove.  The case worker told us the transportation worker forgot to tell us.  REALLY?!?!?  YOU THINK???   Division of Youth and Family Services, you make it SO difficult to think that any of you can do your job.  I would settle for semi-competent at this point.

So this morning, I woke up at 4:00 dreaming about millions of little bites I found all over Josiah, and I spent the next hour fuming in bed thinking of all unkind words I would share with the caseworker, the transportation worker, and the DYFS nurse.  I made up my mind that I would be refusing to cooperate with state-mandated visits anymore.  What are they going to do, take him away from us?  I'm sorry, but I'm not going to expose my family to these things so two idiots can pretend that creating offspring makes them "parents."  

My Help Comes from the Lord ~The Museum

Our God~ Chris Tomlin

Blues & News

I want to start off by saying thank you to all of those who have kept our family in prayer this week.  God has been answering beyond all I could ask or imagine.  Whenever I reach a time that I think it going to be overwhelmingly sad (like when I had to tell the nursery workers at church they wouldn't be seeing Josiah anymore or when our friends have to say goodbye to him) I surprisingly am okay.  Granted, I cry about thinking about those things, but when I actually have to go through them, I sense God giving me a peace and comfort that I know has to be from Him.

This week has been filled with many sweet memories and ups and downs.  There has been many tears over silly things like thinking....this might be the last time I see him eating _________ or the last time I see him wearing __________ or the last time I read him ________.  There are dozens and dozens of little things I grieve.  And yes, I know I'm being dramatic- it's not like he's dying.  But for me, it feels like I almost have to let him die in a way.  When the time comes that he goes, I can't be thinking about what he's going to be eating or how long his nap is or what book he's going to read next.  It feels like a dozen little deaths all stringed together after each time we make a happy memory. So each memory that is meant to be so sweet leaves a lingering bitter feeling when I think it's going to be the last time I see him do something.  I hate that.  Savor the moment.  When times are good be happy, Megan.  I'm ridiculous.

We've had lots of fun memories that we've made together as a family this week- like going out to breakfast and playing with basketballs in our school gym, spending time with friends, and delivering cinnamon rolls to a few families this morning on our day off from school (thank you, snow day.)  I felt like I would look back on this week and feel like I spent every opportunity filling it with as much happy as we could.  I'm not looking forward to packing, and I was putting it off as long as possible.  I was planning on doing my last load of kid laundry with his clothes in it tomorrow night after Justin's family came over to say goodbye to him.

And then...the call.  We called our caseworker to see if it was an absolute necessity to send Josiah for his weekly visitation to visit with his parents tomorrow.  (aka- let's let 2 idiots sit in a room with their 2 children and play house for an hour, NOT change Josiah's diaper, and "forget" to give him his lunch eventhough the visit is from 11:30-12:30.)  When he goes on visitation, he falls asleep in the car on the way back for 10 minutes or so and then won't take a nap in the afternoon.  Then we deal with a cranky toddler for the next 2 days.  It's wonderful.  She said the visits are court-ordered and there's nothing we can do to keep him home tomorrow.  Justin asked, "what if he is 'sick'?"  She asked that we please not do that.  Fine.  Fine.  Fine.  He can go and our last 24 hours with him with be awful.  Fine.

And then she said, "Actually, we're not going to be moving him on Friday."

Ummmm....what???

They want to have a "mediation meeting" with all the lawyers before they do anything now.  DYFS lawyer, Parents' lawyers, grandfather's lawyer.  Apparently they all need to know what's going on.  Makes sense, I guess.  But then WHY, LOVELY DYFS, DID YOU ASK US TO GIVE YOU A DATE WHEN YOU WERE GOING TO MOVE HIM WHEN YOU WANTED TO ANYWAY?!?!?

I'm not complaining we get more time, believe me.  I love that boy.  I will gladly be his mama for as long as God has called me to be.  BUT- I felt like I was in a good place.  I was emotionally prepared. I was mentally prepared.  I was in the process of getting his things physically prepared. It was going to be hard, but this weekend, it was finally going to be time to start healing and start moving forward with my life.

And now, the mediation meeting is set for the 27th.  I'm angry.  I feel like all of this time I have spent grieving and preparing myself have been for nothing.  And I'm going to have to do it all over again in a few weeks.  I know God's timing is perfect, and he will remove Josiah from our home when He feels it is the best time.  I'm just so drained at this point that all I feel is numbness. Waiting is torture.

So...I don't know what to say.  Thanks for praying, but Friday is no longer "the" day.  Who knows when it will be?

Be Still My Soul~Selah

As suggested by my sister, Robin.  Great one!

Have Your Way ~Britt Nicole

Thank you, Jen for sharing this song with me!

O For a Thousand Tongues to Sing- David Crowder

Oh Gracious Master, and my God,
Assist me to proclaim....

Our God is in Control ~Steven Curtis Chapman

Rolling River God~ Nichole Nordeman

The date is set...

Exactly 50 minutes after I published the last post, the phone rang.  The caseworker asked me to give her a day when it would be "easy" to move the child.

Easy?  Will there ever be a day that is easy?

I told her January 14th.  I think I choked the sentence out without her knowing I was crying.  Probably not though.  I figured Josiah would be going to the grandfather's for that weekend anyway and it would give us one more weekend with him and a week to pack his things.

I feel like the past 24 hours has been one long cry with a few breaks in between.  There is so much I am learning, processing, thinking, feeling.  I'm aching to write it down, but I dare not waste the precious time I have left.  I'll be posting pictures and some songs I find comforting this week and I would ask that you would feel free to share any verses or songs you think may be encouraging as well.

Thank you so much for keeping our family in your thoughts and prayers this week.  It's going to be rough one.


Last month, I wrote the lyrics to this hymn on our chalkboard in our kitchen, and I'm trying to saturate my thinking with its truth.  My prayer is that in the midst of great sorrow, I will see great peace, great comfort, and great joy that only the Father can give.

1. He giveth more grace as our burdens grow greater,
   He sendeth more strength as our labors increase;
   To added afflictions He addeth His mercy,
   To multiplied trials He multiplies peace.
2. When we have exhausted our store of endurance,
   When our strength has failed ere the day is half done,
   When we reach the end of our hoarded resources
   Our Father’s full giving is only begun.
3. Fear not that thy need shall exceed His provision,
   Our God ever yearns His resources to share;
   Lean hard on the arm everlasting, availing;
   The Father both thee and thy load will upbear.
4. His love has no limits, His grace has no measure,
   His power no boundary known unto men;
   For out of His infinite riches in Jesus
   He giveth, and giveth, and giveth again.

A long inhale

When my children cry, I measure the severity of the situation not by loud the scream is, but by the amount of time in between the wails.  The longer the inhale, the more dire the situation.  (Usually the sound comes from a distraught Molly who has Josiah sitting on top of her head.)

That's what I feel like when it comes for waiting for that call that is going to tell me when Josiah is leaving. It's like one giant inhale- the longer it takes to come, the harder and louder and longer I fear the grieving process will be.  I'm ready to let it out- to take time to sob, to heal, to find my new normal, but I can't.  It's not time yet.  I feel awful for wanting the time to come.  But I'm tired of letting the thoughts consume me, thinking about what I'll send with him and what I want to stay here to remind me of him.  I have to put a baby book together for him, and I know that's something I need to do before he goes, but I just can't bring myself to do it yet. I want to celebrate new life inside of me instead of wallow in the idea of loss.  Instead I continue to breathe in.  breathe in.  breathe in.  and wait.

I am reminded to try to enjoy the time I have left together as a family.  Last week, the sermon on Sunday was on Ecclesiastes 7:14a...

"When times are good, be happy.  But when they are not, consider this, God has made one as well as the other."

I always thought of that verse as a good reminder that God is in control of every situation- good and bad.  However, last Sunday, our pastor took time to drive home the first portion of that verse.  Isn't it funny how we would need to be reminded to be happy when times are good?  I know I do.  I have to admit, I've never been very good at that.  When I was in high school, I couldn't wait to go to college.  When I was dating, I wanted to be engaged.  When I was engaged, I wanted to be married. When I was married, I wanted to be a mom.  I've never really been a "seize the day" "savor the moment" kind of person.  I even remember crying at Disney World when I was eight or so, and when my mom asked me what was wrong, I whined, "We only have 7 more days left in Disney World!!!"  See what I mean?

Having Josiah has been a lesson in enjoying what God has given me when He has given it to me.  He's taught me to take every day as a gift in itself and to try not to squander it by thinking about tomorrow.  It's such a difficult lesson for me but one that I am trying my best to live these last few days that I have with him.  

Breathe in. Breathe in.  Breathe in.  *Happy sigh*

No Tantrum Needed

I'm a big baby.



















Turns out I might just have one by the middle of July too.  

The Ugly

I feel weary...granted, if you see me or talk to me tomorrow, I'll feel better.  Writing always does that- I get it out and over with, and then I'm fine for a while.

But I will tell you what happened on Christmas, so I can get onto more pertinent and profitable information.

Josiah's grandfather came to pick Josiah up at my parents' house.  Justin had our boy, his stuff, and a Christmas present for David in tote when he greeted them in the driveway.  Just when he was about to make the exchange, the grandfather got nasty.  "Why are you giving me a present?!" he says.  "All I want is my grandson."  Then he goes off on a five minute tirade of how his lawyer told him we had gone back on our decision to give him over.  Justin tried to correct the faulty information, but he couldn't get a word in edgewise.  There I stood with my family looking out our big bay window watching this awful scene of my husband getting verbally abused for something he didn't do...like giving up Josiah oh Christmas wasn't painful enough.

The man left without taking the present, and Justin came in the house feeling defeated and emotional.  He called the caseworker and left a message telling her that the situation has become unbearable and we needed help (in so many words.)  I'll leave the rest of the one-sided conversation to your imagination.

I wished I hadn't had been in my flannel pajamas, or I would have been out there, trying to defend Justin, or at least telling him to walk away.  I can't imagine why anyone could be so mean to someone like my sweet husband, when all we are trying to do is the right thing.  It further solidified that we can't live a life that is connected to this man in any way.  It's not safe for my family.

He called back five minutes to apologize, in his usual fashion, but my entire family felt awful for what this family is putting us through, let alone the confusion it is causing Josiah.

A few days later, the case worker called and Justin explained what had happened.  I think it helped her see how dire our situation is and how ready we are for this all to be over.  Her supervisor called us the next day and Justin reiterated the story to her too.

And two days ago, I had to tell the law guardian about the decision of how we want to try to get Josiah into a permanent home as soon as possible.  Everyone we talk to tries to talk us out of it.  They say they don't want us to rush into anything, and that they just wish the grandfather had taken him from the beginning.  We all agree.  But putting it off any longer isn't going to change things- its going to make it worse.  For everyone.  The law guardian says that she thinks DYFS will be able to move him within a few weeks since he's already had a few overnight visits.

I'm tired.  I have an ultrasound tomorrow morning.  And I'll be honest, if something goes wrong, I'm going to throw a tantrum like a two year old.