I find myself very torn this evening. Where is the line between anonymous documentation and over sharing? The reason behind starting this blog in the first place was to record our not so little family for the future. I fully expect to forget many things as time passes. I already consider myself lucky if I can remember where I put my keys. Birthdays must be written down or reminded via Facebook to have any hope of survival in my brain…and if you ask me what I had for dinner last night-you will probably just get a blank stare as my thoughts run a micro marathon trying to comprehend the question. If I were to take a BIMS test…I would probably fall somewhere below the threshold. I wish I was kidding.
Three of my Little Darlings were adopted from DHS. There are many many blessings that come with adopting from the state; No adoption fees, Attorney fees, Home Study costs, Fingerprint charges….you get the idea. Not to mention some pretty amazing kiddos! But like with most fantastic things that seem too good to be true…there is a flip side to that free pass coin. These tiny humans (Or not so tiny…teenagers need families too!) have been through things that would send most adults running for the hills.
I’m very sad to admit that I know first hand, every story has similarities. There once was a family. Something bad happened. Tiny humans were taken away…and not returned. As if that wasn’t heartbreaking enough…it’s everything between the lines that rips your heart into 10,000 little mini bits.
The lucky ones may only see 3-5 foster homes before finding their forever family. Sometimes those foster families are amazing. Sometimes…not so much. Lack of money, being too crowded, emotionally drained, emotionally unprepared….take your pick of a reason/excuse. Doesn’t make it right…and no sense in pretending this system isn’t broken.
We have been blessed to have these three Little Darlings in our family for the past three years. Three years of safety. Three years of love. Three years of happy. Oh how I wish that were enough to erase the private hell they share.
Anyone with a past will tell you…eventually, it comes back to bite you. Even if it’s not your fault. Tonight, I sat in the car like a helpless puppy as the past swooped in out of nowhere and took a big ‘ol bite out of one of my Little Darlings. There was nothing I could do. No witty comments. No jokes. No half-kidding about running someone over with my car. Nothing.
Prison is a place where they send very bad people to “Pay” for what they have done. Some people go away for a very long time. Some…for not nearly long enough. Some things….don’t have a price in my opinion-and therefore can never be paid for. I’m intentionally being vague.
A meeting of the minds is scheduled in the next few weeks…for a group of strangers who have never met my Little Darlings- to decide if an individual (That’s the kindest word I have for them) has “Paid” their debt. No warning. No heads up. No…”Hey…. this is when we are doing this thing-do you wanna’ come and say how horrible of an idea it is?“. Nothing.
So here we sit. One Little Darling with bits of information….two Little Darlings in the dark…and one very pissed off Mommy.
And now we wait.