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In Case You Were Wondering…
I’ve been getting quite a few emails asking to know what is happening on the adoption front. I have have been reticent to publicly address this as I have worried it may impact any chance of bringing home a child.
After all, the adoption peeps, they know about Redneck. While my case workers have been surprisingly cool about it (even when I’ve made the dumbass move of openly mocking the process thereby shooting myself in the foot) I worry that the case worker(s) to any future child we are interested in calling our own may not be so happy to read my public rants about this process.
It’s been a difficult balance in trying to maintain the integrity and honesty of my own personal feelings and what I want to say on this site while trying to protect any future chances of having a new child lovingly drool on my shoulder and call me Mom.
So I’ve tried to play it quiet, and safe. Having had to pluck my bloodied foot out of my mouth more than once, I’ve learned my lesson.
The truth is, there is not much going on in the adoption front and yet a whole bunch of stuff that I’m dying to share with you all, but it will have to wait at least a few more weeks. But I swear, as soon as I can legally get away with it, I’ll be shouting the news from my virtual rooftop with a bull horn.
What I can tell you, is about six weeks ago, Boo and myself, along with the kids, put in an official request to adopt a little boy who is seven and has some severe disabilities. After much family discussion, we decided we could easily love this little boy as if I had squeezed him from my own loins. It wasn’t a very difficult decision to tell the truth. This boy is beautiful and in dire need of a forever family. We all believe he would be a great addition to our family and we really believe we are the family this child needs.
However. Because there is always a however when you are dealing with a government bureaucracy. This special little boy happens to be in limbo. Meaning he is with out a case worker of his own at the moment to review any adoption requests. So our paperwork is sitting on someone’s desk, waiting to be reviewed and our plea to adopt him silently waits to be reviewed to see if his case worker feels we are a good match with this boy.
I’m taking it all in stride, because I firmly believe if this boy is meant for us, he will come to us. If it doesn’t work out, read: his case worker decides against us for some reason, then it wasn’t meant to be. And there could be a variety of reasons his case worker could chose NOT to place him with us. Until we hear some news, I am just exercising my patience muscles and trying not to tear my hair out with worry and anticipation.
All of this waiting is made easier because there are other wonderful things going on as I type this; things that make me smile and will surely bring a sliver of sunshine to your lives when I’m finally able to announce the details.
Until then, hang on to your undies and practice flexing your patience muscles. We can do it together. It’s not fun, but hey, misery really does love company, no?
A blogging daddy whom I adore and must publicly urge you all to wander over and say hello to if you haven’t already (cuz he’s really cute and says he’s got Ryan Reynold abs…heh) asked me a question that hasn’t been asked on this blog before, but is one my husband and I ask ourselves all the time.
Backpacking Dad wants “to know what you fear most about successfully adopting a child.”
If my husband were to answer this I believe he would tell you that he fears a reprise of Bug’s demise. Shale’s death took so much out of us and hurts us still so very deeply that none of us ever want to go through that again.
Yet, none of us choose to be shackled with ‘what if’s’ and fear of the worst. So we plunge ahead with our quest to bring home another medically fragile child, knowing the worse case scenario is always a possibility and we are opening ourselves up to the worst type of pain.
But the flip side to that coin is we are also bringing with that fear, the best and most wonderful type of joy and love into all of our lives. It is a sweeter and more pure love than any other type of love Boo and I have ever experienced.
Even if it is a thousand times more heartbreaking and frustrating and painful. To us, the trade off is worth it.
However, since this is my blog, I have a different answer than that of my husbands. What I fear the most in successfully adopting a new little person is not in losing this child. I tend to worry more about my extended family, my friends and my community not bonding with our new child.
I worry that because this child will look different, act different, be different that maybe our friends and family won’t be able to open themselves up to loving this child as they would have if we had given birth to him or her.
The damage of Bug’s sudden death was and is far reaching. It wasn’t only our family who was devastated by his loss. So many of our community of loved ones put so much love and energy and effort into our Shale’s life that his death hurt them deeply and lastingly.
I worry my friends and family won’t be able to see past Bug’s demise and get to know the beautiful light of our new child in fear of feeling the same horrible hurt all over again if the past should repeat itself.
However, that is mostly an irrational fear of mine since I have the greatest family, extended family, friends and community a person could ever wish for. The people in my life have some of the biggest and greatest hearts I have ever known, which is why it has been so easy to want to adopt such a special child to begin with.
Because I know they will be surrounded with love.
I also tend to worry if my children’s hair isn’t combed or what people will think if I show up to soccer practice drinking from a bottle wrapped in a brown paper bag, so I try not to let my worries run my life.
Heh.
A reader named Sara asked if “I ever wonder where you would be in life now if Bug hadn’t died?”
Every damn day.
The pain I feel two and a half years after his passing still takes my breath away and pricks tears in my eyes. There isn’t a moment I don’t think about him and wonder what he would be doing if he were still with us. Would he approve of getting a new sibling? Would we already have adopted by now? Would the adoption process have been easier if we hadn’t had to jump through hoops of fire because we buried one child?
I wonder who Fric and Frac would have grown to be if they hadn’t had to face the cyclone of grief that tried to swallow them whole. Who would they be if they didn’t have to wrestle with an almost five year old ghost every time they walk past his picture or start to think about him in the quiet of the night.
I wonder if I will still remember his scent and the rough pads on his fingers from constantly having them in his mouth when I’m a frail old woman. I wonder if his memory will still mean as much to then as it does now or if time will soften the grief that still rages inside of me.
I wonder if I will be able to ever hold a blonde little boy with wavy hair and not think of my son and wish for a single second that it was my son I was holding in my arms.
I wonder if he were alive if he would still give sweet high fives to anyone who would ask and if he’d allow me to snuggle with him on the couch and breathe in his scent while nibbling on the soft spot in the crook of his neck.
I wonder if he’d still be walking or if his height and weight would confine his poor broken feet to a wheel chair. Would he be able to communicate with us beyond shaking his head no or hitting out in frustration?
Would I ever have discovered blogging and would it mean as much to me as it does now?
There isn’t a moment I don’t wonder about what life would have been like if my son was still alive and I wonder if the moment will ever come when peace truly settles in my soul.
The one thing I don’t wonder is, if given the opportunity, would I do it all over again with Bug even if it meant repeating the same fateful night and reliving this nightmare of pain and tears all over again?
Absolutely.
Because the love he gave all of us was worth every tear I’ll cry in my lifetime. Every laugh he giggled and every hug he squeezed is more than enough fuel to last myself, my husband and my children for the rest of our lives.
His short life inspired us and his memory continues to grace us with love and gratitude.
We are so very blessed.
And we can’t wait for a new little duffer to join our family and feel the blessings with us.
May 23rd, 2008 at 9:41 am
so the scoop on me is I’m not a pretty crier/cryer, I never have been never will be. My nose starts to run and my eyes get all bloodshot and the bags under my eyes swell something fierce. This look does not fade very fast either. I respectfully request that from now on you have some sort of disclaimer when you feel your post might bring on tears.
I don’t have children yet so I can’t even pretend to know what it would feel like to lose one so tragically. What I can tell you is that I get teary eyed whenever you write about Bug.
I hope, no matter what the outcome, that the adoption process brings a beautiful child to your door. God knows they will be one lucky child.
May 23rd, 2008 at 9:53 am
My prayers are with you.
I cry so regularly when I read you, whether it’s because I’m laughing hysterically or because you’re writing so painfully honestly that it just tears me up. Either way I adore you and I swear I’m not stalking you.
Your child is out there waiting and I know that you will meet them soon. I just know it.
Y’all are amazing. People. Parents. Humans. Thank you for gracing us with all this you.
XOXO Smooches and all
Rachel
May 23rd, 2008 at 9:55 am
Great, dude, now I’m crying.
May 23rd, 2008 at 9:55 am
Oh, my goodness. Way to make me cry. That is an absolutely beautiful post. What a lucky little boy Bug was and how blessed a child would be to be adopted into your family. Hugs.
May 23rd, 2008 at 10:00 am
I almost shorted out my laptop with the stream of tears. You are one patient, strong woman. I believe that child has only one place to go, into your arms! Good luck!
May 23rd, 2008 at 10:09 am
You have a soul so beautiful I can’t find the words to describe it. You put your whole heart into everything you do and its magnificent. I know any child that comes into your home will be loved completely and totally for being exactly who they are, not what anyone else wants them to be.
You make me proud to be human because people like you are what humanity is all about. You and your wonderful family are absolutely perfect, scars and all…
I hope your wishes for a beautiful little person to fill your home with even more love and joy come true soon.
May 23rd, 2008 at 10:31 am
I’m glad you’re handling it well; from this side I have to say I’m frustrated that you have this wonderful, loving home for a child that doesn’t have one and the paperwork is sitting on a desk somewhere.
You are strange, quirky and totally AMAZING. Which translates to a perfect mother.
May 23rd, 2008 at 10:32 am
I can’t wait for you and your family to have that little boy to love as wholly and perfectly as you love The Bug. We should all be so lucky!
May 23rd, 2008 at 11:18 am
You are such a good person, seriously. Thanks for sharing your thoughts with us, they made me smile and cry at the same time.
May 23rd, 2008 at 11:21 am
Your writing is so proflific that I can feel the pain that you are writing about. I am sitting at my desk in my office with tears in my eyes. Thank you for sharing that part of yourself with us.
May 23rd, 2008 at 11:26 am
Yes a disclaimer when you are going to post something so power and heart wrenching would be nice. Can’t wait to hear whats going on in your life!
May 23rd, 2008 at 11:31 am
Wow, you are such a great writer! I can’t imagine the heartbreak of loving and losing a child. I’m really enjoying your blog and am looking forward to reading an entry about a new addition to your family. Thanks so much for sharing your adventure with us!
May 23rd, 2008 at 11:38 am
My heart goes out to you. I can only imagine how hard the wait can be. I am praying that this child is in your arms sooner than later. He would be a lucky boy.
May 23rd, 2008 at 11:45 am
Lurker and adoptive mom here.
You seem to have a very healthy attitude about the process, taking control when you can and letting things happen when you must.
Wishing you the very best.
May 23rd, 2008 at 11:58 am
I know you worry about the adoption peoples opinion of your blog is. But, for all the things you write about with humor that you feel may be inappropriate, there is a post like this that just blows any doubt about your intentions, about your lifestyle or your capability to love. I regularly think I would kill myself if my son died. Given, I don’t have any other children to help my heart hang on… But the thought of opening myself up to the possibility of a hurt like that again— paralyzing. And yet, you are eager, you and your beautiful, compassionate, loving family are ready to do it all again. And I commend you and respect you. You are good people. Concealed bottle or not. Any person reading that post would have to be heartless to deny you that child you feel is the one. I wish you the best in the adoption process and just know that my thoughts will be with you this Memorial Day. Alright, I have to go wipe my tears away now…
May 23rd, 2008 at 12:06 pm
This is a beautiful post. I’ll keep you and this beautiful 7-year-old boy in my prayers tonight. I’m certain that if he’s supposed to land in your arms, he will.
May 23rd, 2008 at 12:07 pm
I hope you get a new member of your forever family soon.
Your words make me miss your Shalebug right alongside of you.
May 23rd, 2008 at 12:19 pm
I’ve been wondering what was going on, but figured you would fill us in just as soon as you could.
Can’t wait to hear the news.
I still can’t fathom the pain your family endured; so heartbreaking. I still can’t get over how big your hearts are, and how lucky some little kiddo’s going to be, landing in your lap.
Take care.
May 23rd, 2008 at 12:28 pm
Judging from the emails you talk about and the comments here, you’ve touched A LOT of lives. Here’s hoping the adoption goes through soon so you can channel all that experience and wisdom into parenting your growing family.
May 23rd, 2008 at 12:39 pm
This is such a beautiful but sad post, and I really do hope you get the little boy God willing, and you have strength that I can’t even imagine to be able to go through what you have and still be such a brilliant, honest person.
May 23rd, 2008 at 1:09 pm
Oh Tanis.
You have worn down my cardiac cliffs with waves of salt water tears. You’ve shaken its foundation with uprorious aftershocks. And you’ve felled its walls entirely with a brazen voice as clear and piercing as a trumpet blast.
And that’s about as lyrical as I’m allowed to get on another woman’s blog. Pardon me while I go write a sonnet for my wife…
May 23rd, 2008 at 1:17 pm
Thank you for answering what must have been some tough questions. I will think hopeful thoughts about this boy, who will be so very lucky to have you and yours for his family.
xox
May 23rd, 2008 at 1:52 pm
That is going to be one lucky little duffer.
May 23rd, 2008 at 2:53 pm
Oh crap, I hate crying. Now I’m all snotty. Gross.
Good luck with the adoption. I hope this is the one that is meant to be and your family is as complete as it can ever be soon.
May 23rd, 2008 at 3:20 pm
This is comment is going to be taken wrong no matter how I word it.
Fric & Frac have probably gotten used to being first fiddles by now. As things are now, they don’t have to be placed on the back burner so a special needs child’s needs can be met, your family can just pack up and go anywhere at anytime without worrying about packing special supplies/equipment. Are you the least bit worried about having to put their wants and needs behind the constant care of a handicapped child?
May 23rd, 2008 at 4:07 pm
I have never commented on your blog before, even though I have enjoyed reading it over the past few months. You write so beautifully about Bug, and I, like many others, cry whenever you do write about him. My biggest hope for you is that someday, somehow, peace will settle into your soul. Your strength is indescribable. I just wanted you to know that some random chick out there on the internet finds you incredibly inspiring.
May 23rd, 2008 at 5:05 pm
Tanis -
Somewhere, Bug is laughing - and planning to whisper the instructions to the best spit bubbles to this next child.
Small hands, big heart.
I send you love from this coast.
May 23rd, 2008 at 5:16 pm
Now I am a great big blubbering mess. Every time you talk of Bug I get a knot in my chest knowing how much you adore him. And your pain becomes mine.
“allow me to snuggle with him on the couch and breathe in his scent while nibbling on the soft spot in the crook of his neck.” I do this every single day with my Boo. People say I have such a hard life, but I get to snuggle with my 9 year old just like a 2 year old and he adores it. No other 9 yr old boy would let his Mummy do that.
And I am hoping and praying that you will have another chance to do the same.
May 23rd, 2008 at 5:51 pm
What a beautiful post, I’m bawling over here. You write so honestly it amazes me. Thank you for sharing.
May 23rd, 2008 at 7:08 pm
Wow. Are there really words to adequately respond??
I think not.
Except maybe…….. beautiful.
May 23rd, 2008 at 7:23 pm
It’s Memorial Day weekend here. It’s always such a hard time for me…a lot of that is because it’s followed by my Bug’s birthday in on June 7th. He would have been 5. I can hardly believe it.
Not a day goes by I don’t wonder what my life would be like and what he would be like.
And? That thing that you said about the ripple effects on tons and tons of people?
It.is.huge.
And lasting.
I am amazed sometimes how it just keeps going and going, like this massive domino effect that keeps going and going.
May 23rd, 2008 at 7:27 pm
So beautiful. To everything there is a purpose. The more I read your blog the more I come to know that you are who you are because of the many experiences of your life and the fact that you share your life so honestly and openly is couragous. Thank you for sharing. Any child would be blessed to live in your home and to have you as their mom…to have what you have to give, because you have the kind of love inside of you that is unconditional.
I love your humor and your honesty…these are all things that make you so real…seriously, your truthfullness combined with the humor is so refreshing…thank you. I have never commented before…just one of the people that reads but I had to say something this time because you really touched my soul tonight.
May 23rd, 2008 at 9:30 pm
Thanks for the update. And for making me cry.
Your children are so lucky.
May 23rd, 2008 at 9:35 pm
i cannot wait to see you. i simply cannot wait to pick your ass up from the airport and see you.
May 23rd, 2008 at 9:52 pm
Oy.
You have the biggest heart of them all, Red.
May 23rd, 2008 at 10:23 pm
I have been wondering too. Thank you for sharing and wow, my heart goes out to you.
May 24th, 2008 at 8:02 am
I wonder if the adoption people would mind so much if we ranted for you and you can silently sit and nod vigorously? Or would that irk them too?
How did they find the blog anyway?
Mama, I somehow don’t see you being a person that would willingly be around people who wouldn’t love that child to bits. I just don’t… I also see you ripping the head off of the first person to slightly treat the child differently and setting the example for future asshats who would.
It’ll happen… just keep chanting that.
*hug*
May 24th, 2008 at 10:50 am
Oh, T. I will be crossing my fingers waiting to hear abour your adoption, even if it makes it awkward to type for the next while. If there is anyone who can bring love and fire and strength and grace to the care of a new child, one who knows exactly what she’s getting in asking for a child with challenges, it’s you, and that child will be so lucky.
And you, you amaze and inspire. I know that sounds terribly cliche, but it’s true, it’s a rare and incredible thing to be able to move past the fear from past hurts and open yourself up again. And it is most impressive. hugs and high fives to you and your family, and I hope both pieces of news come to pass as you would have them.
May 24th, 2008 at 6:44 pm
i was wondering…and i am so hopeful and so excited to find out how it all unfolds for you.
i get both your and Boo’s fears. to risk losing again, to risk the rejection of your new child by those afraid of losing again…those things make sense, and you’re both smart people. but those things…they seldom last. once he - or whomever comes into your lives - is with you, there will be a lot more to focus on than those fears. but you know that already.
good luck, friend.
May 24th, 2008 at 7:37 pm
So this, “hang on to your undies and practice flexing your patience muscles”, really means we should be toning our Kegel’s?
OMG! It’s actually a DEVICE
http://www.kegel-exercisers.net/pwrx/pages/page.jsp?P_SITE_ID=44&P_PAGE_ID=575&rfid=mvexr3a
I’m really sorry - delete this!
I’m pretty excited about hearing how it all turns out! Can’t wait ’till you spills the beans the whole beans and nothing but the beans.
May 25th, 2008 at 2:11 am
you are in my prayers I am in awe of you for being willing to take a severely disable child into your heart and home. I hope the adoption caseworkers see you for the wonderful loving mum you are going to be to this little fellow.
May 25th, 2008 at 5:06 am
You are a beautiful soul.
Beautiful.
May 25th, 2008 at 10:40 am
I sure hope you get this boy!! As a teacher who has taught special needs I know how important itis to have a fmaily that cares.
I was living the everyday kind of carefree life when *WHAM* out of no where my daughter was dx with cancer. While she is in remission for years now, her treatment was a mind-blowing-life altering-f’ing change for me. After 2 1/2 years of daily chemo and several times of coming damned close to losing her, I am a different person…and I too wonder where and who I woud be if I just kept on living that life I once knew…and who my other children and husband would have been….and who’s idea of making small children sick is this anyway?
Enjoying your site since I accidentally clicked upon it
May 25th, 2008 at 6:50 pm
I hope all goes well for you and your family Tannis. I read a blog written by a woman who has adopted many children, she’s quite insightful, if you’re interested in reading her stuff, here’s her site.
http://eve3.wordpress.com/
Fingers crossed.
May 25th, 2008 at 10:40 pm
[…] Jump to Comments Today I read a post over at Redneck Mommy about her sweet deceased child she fondly calls Bug. I was taken aback with her ponderings about […]
May 26th, 2008 at 11:58 am
You’re making me cry at work.
Tanis, you’re so damn inspiring.
May 27th, 2008 at 6:26 am
I am praying for you as I bawl my eyes out reading this. I hope that child joins your family SOON.
May 27th, 2008 at 4:38 pm
Crap, T. Wasn’t supposed to be crying right now. Love you even more.
May 27th, 2008 at 5:44 pm
I have been keeping my fingers crossed for you and was indeed wondering when there would be news. I look forward to hearing the next chapter in this tale and my ears are prickling at the other promised morsel of news.
May 28th, 2008 at 5:48 pm
Oh wow… I can’t wait for your new son to be able to join your family… it’s going to be a beautiful day.
May 29th, 2008 at 5:47 am
I know from dealing with these agencies that you are making it sound less painful that it actually is. Your life hangs in the balance, this child sits waiting the injustice just screams at me. I am so sorry and of course so hopeful that it is meant to be.
I love reading about bug. How you loved him, what his life meant to you, how you would do it all over again. Sometimes I get so overwhelmed with the complexities and worries that come with Julia and then I remember these things you have written and it all makes sense, because I love her.
June 2nd, 2008 at 6:35 pm
I’ve been gone for a while, but was wondering how all of this was going. *sigh* Keeping my bits crossed for a good outcome.