Restricted and Released

At our sonogram last Wednesday we learned that we officially have another "Growth Restricted" baby. Intra-Uterine Growth Restricted is a term to define any baby below the 10th percentile. This percentile is the average of two measurements: the head and the abdomen. December Baby is now in the 8th percentile (head was 12% and abdomen was 2%). I was not shocked to learn this.

Our doctor has amazing bedside manner and was extremely kind. We really don't know why this happened again. Where we go from here is to the doctor, weekly sonograms with the specialist, and two or three more appointments with my OB before delivery. We will be scheduling delivery for the week before Christmas. It all seems somewhat cold and strange, but we are excited. Other than small size the baby is totally healthy. I cannot ask for more.

Also this week I had this urgency to learn something of our foster children. I debated whether or not to contact the foster mother who they went with after leaving our home. I finally decided to take a chance and hope that she didn't think I was a creepy stalker.

I will be forever grateful to her for her kind response. She told of our foster daughter doing well in therapy and in preschool. Of our foster daughter having fewer outbursts of tantrums. She told of our foster son "asserting his independence" and I could just picture him getting into all sorts of mischief like only a soon-to-be two year old boy can. She told of him still enjoying snuggles after his nap.

My immediate response was hard to describe. In some bizarre way I was hurt. I had pushed for our foster daughter to be in some sort of therapy or counseling and was rebuffed by the caseworker. I was told that "not all children in foster care are in therapy". I was sad that I was not the one who was snuggling this sweet boy after his naps and disciplining him when he misbehaved. More than anything I realized just how sad I was, and how much I really missed these kids.

After praying about this while I painted that evening I was hit with two things. First of all, I was being selfish. Second of all, I had not released this irrational hope that some day our foster son would return to us. The selfish part was easier to let go of. By the time I went to bed that evening I no longer held onto those feelings, but was instead SO SO grateful for the improvement in our foster daughter and grateful to her new foster parents for working hard and poring so much of themselves into her. The second part was not as easy for me. I had never dealt with grieving for someone I loved so dearly, let alone releasing them into an unknown future.

As I fell asleep that night I was praying for release.

And I dreamed.

Those of you who have read my blog before know that I have occasionally had dreams that I believe have significant meaning. This was my dream.

I was in a sort of hospital waiting area for adoptive parents. Many babies and children were being brought in but I was not being chosen for any of these children. Then a call came in that a newborn baby was going to be dropped off. I rushed to the entrance of the building with the "director" of this program.

It was cold outside and as the automatic doors opened a blast of freezing air rushed into the building hitting me in the face. Lying on the ground was a newborn baby, naked except for a heavily soiled diaper and a blanket that the wind had whipped off of him. I rushed outside to scoop up to the baby and comfort him in my loving arms.

The director and I went back to his office. He sat at his computer and began searching for a family for this baby. As I stood holding and comforting this precious baby who I already loved I got so angry!! Didn't the director see that I was the perfect mother for this baby? Didn't he see how much I loved this little boy?

When I shouted something along those lines in my frustration at the director he just calmly turned and looked at me. He said, "No. I have already chosen a child for you. But this is not him. You need to wait."

I think even within my dream I realized that this director was no ordinary man, but God, or an angel of God.

It dawned on me that this is what I was doing with our foster son. I rushed in to take things into my own hands and ended up hurt and resentful when things didn't go my way.

I woke up with an amazing feeling of peace and a "God-like" understanding of the situation. Eight months after our foster son left us physically I was finally able to release him emotionally.

I won't even look into what the messenger in my dream meant when he said he had already chosen a child for me. I am just so so grateful to God for this dream, to the foster family who has had the children longer than we did, and am trusting in the Lord to be with them wherever they go.