72 hour waiting period

I remember the day before I placed.
I went to get my hair done for pictures the next day.
My dad offered to watch Lily while I went to the salon.
I didn't want to leave her.
I felt like those were going to be two hours I would never get back.
I watched the clock intently while I got my hair done.
I wanted to go home as fast as I could.
My arms wanted to hold that sweet baby girl for as long as I could.
I went home with wet, freshly dyed hair.
I couldn't wait any longer, not even for her to dry my hair.

In one of meetings with my caseworker we talked about the 72 hour waiting period before I could sign.
I could sign temporary foster care over to her parents, spend a few days in a hotel, or go home for the remainder of the time before the 72 hours passed.
There were a lot of reasons why I chose to take her home. But a few that stood out the most are

1. I wanted to spend time with her, in comfortable settings. Hospitals remind me of sickly people; of my mom. Hospitals make me uncomfortable.
2. I couldn't bare the thought of signing papers on two separate occasions. I knew the Lord could help me sign once, but twice sounded unbearable. I knew my limits, and I knew twice would not happen. (even if once was foster care, and once was adoption papers)
3. I wanted to spend as much time with her as possible. To build up strength to overcome the battle I was facing, the battle I will continue to face.  She was my little buddy, she strengthened me when I was pregnant and I felt like I couldn't go on, and she gave me strength to place. The Lord knew how to comfort me, he knew I would find comfort in her.
4. Simply, I needed it for me.

Those few days were some of the best days. Days that reminded me what I needed to do, what I chose to do. The gave me strength to continue on the journey. They comforted me, and allowed me to see that all would be well.

Being Raised

The other day I made a comment about how I don't have a mom. And in some ways that is correct because I do not have a mom here raising me, I was incorrect because I do have a mom who gave birth to me, raised me for four years and is now watching over me. I think sometimes I forget that all though this as has been a constant struggle in my life that I have also been blessed for enduring it. I also feel like I often over look the life lessons I have been taught and the raising my siblings step up and did for me. For it was them who have also had my back from day one.

Daryl taught me to shuffle cards.. or he at least tried to. We hung out and had sleepovers after he moved out. He painted me a picture of the two of us that hangs above my bed.
Ryan took care of me in a lot of way how my mom might have. He picked me up from daycare daily and we would hang out just the two of us before anyone else made it home. He taught me how to care, and how to love.
Kristin taught me how to feel. To allow my emotions to show when needed and that's it's ok to cry and let it all out.
Andy taught me how to ride a bike. He let me hang out with his friends while he had parties when I was just so young. I always felt special and loved.
Katelyn taught me how to push through my trials and that I can conquer anything life throws at me. How to be head strong and never settle.

So maybe I haven't had the opportunity to be "raised" by my mom. But being "raised" by my siblings has taught me things from different personalities and views that I might not have been blessed with otherwise. So while I can be sad, I am choosing to be happy and appreciate the love and guidance my siblings have blessed me with.

Try Being Me

Thoughts, emotions, they tear me apart.
People talking like this just hurts my heart.
How could they feel that way?
Why am I judged?
For I am not the best, but neither are those who walk the paths around me.
Pain, hurt, tears.
You have no idea what my life is like, don't try to judge.
Until you have been me, you would have no idea.

Feelings

"Do you have hope in yourself?"

A question that caught me off guard. I was totally called out on it.

My inability to answer said it all.

Maybe I can't see myself in a good light. Stuck thinking people will only see me for my mistakes. Although I know not all people see me just for my mistakes, sometimes it feels like the mistakes cover up the good I have done. Or that the good will never make up for the mistakes. I know I have done good, my life is good, I am happy, but hope in myself... I think I need to work on that.

Heaven?

I am four years old and nothing can be harder on me. If I only understand what is going on around me. I know, but in so many ways I don't understand. I keep replaying that conversation in my head. "I don't want you to die Mommy." "I don't want to die either" she says. I spend all my time with her, that's never going to change, I think. But it has changed, she can no longer take care of me. She is sick and she's changing everyday. She is no longer home, she's some where else. A hospice, whatever that is. And I can't stand to be there with the scary nurses, so I spend my time out on the play ground, swinging by myself. She's dead they tell me, but I still don't understand. It's her funeral and I have a question, "So is this heaven Andy?".

Jello Belly

We are shopping for swim suits in Dillards. "Nothing fits me right, too fat for two pieces and too tall for one pieces" I said. "You just have the jello baby belly, we all get them. You just have to work to get rid of that." "It's true, I know, I just hate it."

Striken

My freedom was striken
He was controlling me
I tried to tell him
I felt like a prisoner
But he
He wouldn't listen
It was my decision
Not his
But for a long time
It never felt like mine
Till that day
The day it all came to play
For then I no longer felt
Felt as if my freedom was striken
For I was the one that acted

I'm Coming Home

Over the next few days I will focus on the past. I have set up blog posts each day of journal entries from back a few years ago up to now. I have chosen to share a part of me with you.


I'm coming home, I promise
This really isn't me
I know
I've lost myself somewhere
Somewhere along the road
I miss being happy, I miss being me
My family is waiting,
Waiting for things to change
I'm not sure how I lost myself,
I'm not sure where the road is
But I am wanting to go home
I am feeling so lost,
so sad and lonely
Why have things changed?
Today starts a new beginning
I promise
I'm starting the road home
I just have to find it
I am changing
I am going to be the real me
Don't worry,
I'll be home soon