A 3am We Would Never Forget

It is sometimes funny how many things that seem so positive can still have a negative to them! This was the case with Julian as he began to roll over. We had waited months for this moment. We had spent hours in physical therapy and hours at home trying to teach him the simple skill of being able to roll over. The truth was we weren't sure if he would ever figure it out. I remember talking to his physical therapist and saying, "He is 8 months old. You would think he would want to move!" Her response to me was he would do it when he was ready. I didn't need to hear he would do it when he was ready. I wanted to know that everything we were putting him through was some how working. The fact that we were coming to a physical therapy appointment weekly and he hadn't had any significant changes since we brought him home was concerning to me as a mother. And if the physical therapist told the truth that day she too would have said she had some concerns as well.

So when he finally did move well I called everyone that day to tell them about Julian rolling over. Most everyone in our world knew what a legendary moment this was for him and for my husband and I. We had all worked so hard to get Julian to this point. But when I look back at it now I am sure that everyone I talked to that day probably thought I was crazy for the amount of excitement that poured out of me over one small movement. I didn't care I wanted to shout it for the world to hear.

Julian only rolled over that one time that day on his own. No matter how hard I tried to get him to show his dad his knew found trick, he wouldn't do it. I was so disappointed because if anyone in the world got how much work went into teaching an 8 month old how to roll over it was my husband. But Julian wasn't into showing off like I was so he would just lay on the floor and giggle with his dad. After many attempts of trying I finally gave up and thought Julian would just show his dad some other time.

That night after we had all gone to bed and the house was quiet. Well except for the pug snores. I was awaken by Julian's scream of death. It was the same scream he had so many times when we brought him home. It was so loud and horrifying that it even woke my husband up. I jumped out of bed and ran to him with my husband behind me. My heart was racing and I was full of fear. When I got to his side he was crying so hard he could barely breath. As I flipped on the light and looked in the crib the fear left my body and I began to giggle. Through my laughter I was trying to get Julian to calm down. I was talking softly and he finally got a hold of his emotions. Julian's screaming had begun because had rolled over again. Only this time he couldn't figure out how to get back the comfy tummy position so he thought he would ask for help with a little bit of a dramatic flare!

The problem was that when I began to giggle he thought it was time to play. So the screaming stopped but then he began to show off for us at 3 am. Soon the three of us laughed until we cried. My husband and I couldn't believe what we were doing at 3am but we also knew for Julian this was a time to remember. Only our little Julian would wake up the house to let everyone know he had rolled over again.

Over the next few nights there were lots of 3am wake up calls with the same blood curdling scream. I found my self night after night in his room teaching him how to roll over on his own. And each night I would think to myself, "How long is this going to go on? Is he going to be 12 I will be in here like it's okay you can do this." It was amazing how quickly I lost the enthusiasm and laughter of that first night of his rolling over. Instead I was wishing for a full nights sleep. So as I complained in my head I would sooth his crying and then I would put his right leg over his body like he was doing a yoga twist and he would do the rest. FINALLY by the tenth night he had it all figured out on his own and we all finally got a full nights sleep.

Julian Shows Me A Burning Bush

I tossed and turned all night about the option of adopting Ashley's baby. Just the idea made me begin to contemplate our lives. If we took this baby we could potentially end up with two small infants within about a year of one another. I wondered if I could handle two infants and more than that I wondered if it was fair to Julian. The truth was Julian never really had 100% of my husband and I at this point because we were constantly dealing with social services. If we brought another infant into the mix that would just add to our already chaotic lives. Julian needed peace in his world. He needed less appointments, less stress in us and more time to figure out we were family. We were his home. Once his case was closed and he was finally ours maybe it should just be the three of us for awhile.

But what if he didn't stay with us. What if the worst happened and they sent him back to the biological parents? Then should we pass up this opportunity to take Ashley's baby? Could this be God's way of giving us another shot at parenthood? I cried at the thought of losing Julian. He was what I really wanted in all this. I shouldn't have even been contemplating another baby....he was my baby...our baby! I became so overwhelmed with the guilt of just thinking about this other child that I stopped myself from going any further. As my husband snored next to me in bed that night I prayed with lots of tears to God.

Dear God,
Please give me some sign of what I am suppose to do here. A burning bush of some kind would really be helpful! I feel like we are all lost in this cycle of hopelessness. I know I can't give my child what I need to when I feel lost. I know I can't protect him when I feel hopeless. Please send me in a direction that you feel is right. And please God, give me the strength to do what you need me to do in this situation. Your losing me here dude, I feel like am beginning to break!
With an Amen to finish up my requests and then with a huge breath I fell asleep almost instantly.

The next morning I was given my morning wake up call by the love of my life. Julian was calling me. He didn't use words or even cry. Instead he began to baby babble. First, very quietly and then as time would go on it would get louder and louder until finally I would roll out of bed, grab my glasses and yawned my way into his room.

Our normal routine was he would get me to come in there and he would still be on his tummy. Even after 3 months of physical therapy he would still be on his tummy almost in the same position I would leave him in the night before. Usually, he would be talking to his giraffe on his blanket when I walked in and then when I would say, "Good morning my little man!" He would squeal and give me the biggest smile in the world. Every morning I woke up he reminded me that even though his wake up time was 5am, it was well worth it just to get that first morning squeal.

But this morning was different. He did give me my usual wake up call. I grabbed my glasses and headed to his room. As I started to say my usual Good Mornings, I heard his squeal and then I stopped myself! My eyes filled up with tears and I began to cry. Julian had FINALLY rolled over! Then before I knew what was happening I began to yell and jump up and down. He was terrified. Here I was jumping up and down and yelling, "YOU DID IT! OH MY GOD YOU DID IT! WHEW WHEW!" He didn't know it was an excited yell. He just knew my voice changed and I was crying...so he started crying too. He was so upset he looked like a turtle that had been put on its back and couldn't roll over again. Apparently, he got on his back but couldn't figure out how to get back to the very comfortable tummy position. He was in my arms within seconds and I was hugging him so tight that I am sure if he could have talked he would have said, "Ummm, Mom CAN'T BREATH!" We both stopped crying that morning with that hug. Him because he was scared and me because he finally rolled over.

I never felt more accomplished in anything I had done in life then I did that day Julian rolled over. After all we had been through in physical therapy and all the crap I had heard from social services. None of it mattered because he was finally trusting us enough to move. At that moment I knew I could never let him go. I also knew that his rolling over was God's burning bush and that things were about to change!

Ashley says Lets Talk

We got home and we were both getting ready for bed and I decided I would check emails before I turned in. I don't really know what prompted me to do this because it was late and I knew Julian would have me up at 5am ready to eat. I was even beginning to talk myself out of it as I sat behind the computer but then I saw an email from Ashley. My heart stopped and I knew immediately who she was.


I was shaking as I dragged the mouse to open the email and my mind raced remembering back to the young girl I use to baby sit so long ago. I remembered how she had told me her friend Ashley may contact me because she was pregnant and wanting to give the baby up for adoption. I couldn't believe her name was actually in mail box waiting for a response from me. The title of the email was: Lets Talk.


After the night I had with the support group, reading this email just caused more questions. I clicked open the email and my heart raced in excitement. She began the email by telling me about who she was and explaining that she was pregnant and was looking for the right family for her baby. She seemed so grown up in her words and very decisive in her decision to give her unborn child to a home that could provide a life to the baby that she couldn't at her young age. Her courage was one of the first things that struck me in her email. So much so that I sat and read her email wishing I had her strength. I heard her heart in her words and with each word I read I knew I needed to meet her.


I wasn't sure where Julian's case was going and if we needed other options for adoption. His case was still in the beginning stages according to all the social workers in our life. But I had just sat through a class that told me early stages in a case don't matter. There were still so many unanswered questions and so many people still not looking for the answers to help Julian. To help any of us. But more than just wanting to talk to her about us taking her baby, I just wanted to meet her because of her strength. We were both in a place in our lives where we needed someone to hear our hearts and understand the journeys we were on. Even though each of journeys were different, some how they seemed the same.

She ended her email by asking me to go to lunch. She wasn't ready to meet both my husband and I but she did want to meet me first. I was completely open to it and I couldn't wait to meet her.

Should I feel guility?

Driving home after that meeting was a quiet and long car ride. We both had images of people telling their amazing adoptions stories in our heads and we were both wondering now how we got where we were. Finally the silence was broken when I said, "Is it bad that I am wondering what would have happened if we didn't take on Julian's case?" I could feel the tears fill my eyes from the guilt I felt as I said it out loud. It wasn't that I didn't live Julian. Just the opposite in fact. I loved him so much that I wanted nothing more than to give him our last name and make him ours forever. But that didn't stop me from replaying every moment we had lived up to this point and wonder....what if we had said no to this case?

My husband cleared his throat and said, "Don't feel guilty. I was wondering the same thing when we were sitting there." There was a tense tone in his voice and his body language made it obvious he didn't want to talk about it anymore tonight. I gently laid my hand on his leg just to let him know I understood his feelings and we drove the rest of the way home in silence.

Cold Alone Pizza

We each grabbed two pieces of pizza and we headed back to our seats at the front of the room. During our walk back to our chairs I began to look at the other people that were going to be a part of this group. I made eye contact with one woman who had a little boy just a few weeks old in her arms. He had a head full of black hair and he looked right at home with her. I began to consider what her story might be. I wondered what she would share and if she was going through the hell we were. I smiled her way and moved my eyes down the table.

There was a lesbian couple that also sat at that table that I happened to remember them from one of our training classes. I made eye contact with them in hopes to see the same fear I saw in my own eyes everyday. I was looking for some sign that we weren't alone in this and that they understood. As I said, "hello" and waived they smiled back. Their eyes were full of light and joy. I didn't see frustration and fear. I began to wonder how they kept that joy in their eyes and stayed so positive during this constant battle with social services. It couldn't be that we were the only ones that were having a tough time.


We got to our seats and I put my paper plate down in front of me. I picked off one peperoni and ate it just as I heard a familiar voice. It was Leyla standing behind us. A sigh of relief came from deep within me just at hearing her words. She was asking everyone to take their seats so we could begin. I was so excited to see Leyla. I wanted her to ask how I was just so I could tell her about Betty Rose. I wanted to let her know all the terror that was inside me about losing Julian. I wanted her to give me advice and reassure me that everything was going to go our way but I also knew this wasn't the right time to talk to her.

Everyone took their places and as I looked around the room the only familiar faces I saw were Leyla's and the lesbian couple from our training class. I began to get nervous. I didn't want to have to tell our story and I knew some how we would have to share it. As I thought about what we would say and how we would say it, I notice I had pushed my pizza away from me. All the sudden I wasn't as hungry. In fact I almost felt nauseous just thinking about all we had been through so far.

Soon Leyla was standing in front of the room with a huge smile. She introduced herself and then said, " Now lets go around the room so everyone can introduce themselves. Start with your name, how long you have had a legal risk child in your home and where you are at in your case. We will start with you two." I almost jumped at the thought that we had to go first but as I looked toward Leyla I saw she was speaking to the lesbian couple to our right. I took a deep breath in relief and began to listen to their story.

The more outgoing woman spoke for the couple. She said, " I am Samantha and this is my partner Georgia. We have taken little Aidan in because his biological mother has a meth problem. We have had him for 3 months and parental rights are being terminated next week. So we will be able to adopt him soon." Tears filled my eyes as Samantha grabbed Georgia's hand and they both shrugged their shoulder in pure joy to have little Aidan become a part of their family. I was so devastated that we were still in limbo after all this time about Julian and these two were getting to feel what it was like to be at the end. We had worked just as hard as they had to get where we were and now we were still fighting our way through this and they were doing a victory lap.

As I had a mini pity party the rest of the room gave them a round of applause and within minutes the focus had moved on to the lady with the small infant in her arms. She gave us her name and the baby's name and told us he was only a few weeks old. She said that his biological mother was very young and that she had given him up in the hospital. So she and her husband were able to bring him home from the hospital. They were still at the beginning of the case but so far the mother had signed over her rights to the county and she refused to say who the father was. As she kept talking I felt a lump in my throat and I knew my face was turning purple. I kept seeing her husband that was sitting next to her with his arm around her bending over and kissing the top of the babies head. I was wishing that it was me in her shoes. When she was done talking her husband said, " And we already have two elementary school age girls of our own and they love being big sisters already." I was so jealous of their story. Not only do they have biological children but now they get this precious child as well.

I wondered if I was over reacting hearing these stories. I knew I had been on a roller coaster ride and my emotions were constantly being tested through this process. So for me to do a reality check, I looked over at my husband. Hoping he would give me that smile to tell me it was okay and to just take a deep breath but he didn't give me that smile. He wasn't even looking at me or the couples speaking anymore. Instead he was looking down at the table and his knee was shaking up and down. I could feel the frustration radiating off of him and I knew we were both having the same thoughts.

There were 6 couples in that room that day and all of them had stories that matched the first two. Each of them were close to having their children be a part of their families forever. We listened to each couple speak and with each story my mind raced. Why was our case so hard? What would have happened if we didn't take Julian's case? Would we have gotten Aidan or that baby? How come we aren't the ones with a happy ending? What is wrong with this system?

We had heard every one's story and we were the last one's to tell ours. I looked over at my husband and I knew he wouldn't be able to speak so I opened my mouth. With my voices shaking I introduced myself and then my husband. I took a deep breath in hopes that tears in my eyes would stay there and I said," Well I am not sure what to say about our case. We have had Julian for 3 months now. He was given to us because he had two broken legs and a broken arm at 3 months old, and nobody can seem to figure out how a 3 month old gets injuries like this. Including his biological parents. As of today, I don't feel like we are any farther along in the case than we were 3 months ago when we were told the case looked to be in our favor. In fact I worry everyday that he will be taken from us."

The energy in the room had moved from full of joy and applause to pity for my husband and I with a touch of sorrow. It was so quiet I heard the lady at the other end of the table swallow. After a few seconds of silence Leyla stood up and said," That is tough to hear right? And that's why were are here to share the good and the bad." I rolled my eyes at the thought that our story was the bad one to share.

There were speakers there that night to "help" the group understand the system better. But to be honest I have no idea who they were or what they talked about. I spent the entire hour looking around the room and wondering why we weren't of the lucky ones in this room. Even worse why wasn't Julian one of the lucky ones? He deserved justice and safety more than we deserved parenthood. Once again I questioned where God was in this.

As the hour wrapped up I gathered my things and when I looked down I noticed my now cold pizza, missing one peperoni, was still sitting there. Two pieces by themselves on a plate, sitting in the front of the room for all to see. Ironic really. To come to a support group in hopes to find someone that felt like us. Someone that got how alone and scared we were. Instead we sat at the front of that room just like that pizza. More alone than when we came in and with just a little piece of us missing now. We had lost the idea that we weren't alone in just one hour of being there. All this time we had thought there was someone out there that knew how we felt. So much so that they needed to come up with a "Support Group" to help people like us. When what we really had figured out was in fact that we were alone. It was just another class to help with education hours not a Support Group that could feel our hearts.

Support Group I

After the bios didn't show up for the visit I thought for sure everything in the case was going to change. Them not showing up was one thing but them not calling well, that was just against all rules that had been placed before them. I thought Betty Rose would give me a call to explain what had happened to the bios that day. She would call and give me all the excuses they had for not showing up to their one visit a week, but she never did. Instead we went the entire week without a phone call from her or an email. I was completely disappointed in her lack of communication. During her last home visit she finally expressed concern about "reunification" and then they didn't' show up for visit, she had to have some opinion on all of this! I know I had tons of things to say about it.

So without a phone call or an email we just went on with our week as usual. My husband and I started going to a support group meeting that week with people that were in the same position we were. At least that is what we thought we were going to.

These meetings were set up to help Legal Risk families by providing a support system of people that were in the same situation. These meetings also helped with building education hours that we were expected to complete each year by social services to renew our foster care certification. We started going to the class in hopes that someone would share something with us that gave us hope in our case. It didn't matter that it helped us recertify because by the time our yearly certification was up Julian would be ours. But for the time being we needed a support system that understood how hard it was to live like this. We needed people that got the frustrations we had with the system and how hard it was to deal with parenthood on top of dealing with social services.

We were excited at the thought of meeting others like us. I loved the idea of being able to call up a girlfriend that totally got what I was going through because she had been dealing with the same thing. So I had high hopes for this meeting.

As we drove over to the meeting my husband and I talked about our expectations. What we hoped to get out of this group and how we hoped it would help. The group meetings were arranged by social services, so we went to the same building we had done all of our training to become certified at. We even went back to the same room we sat in during all of those classes. As we walked in the room the aroma of peperoni pizza swept through me. I was so hungry but because of nerves I hadn't eaten yet. My stomach growled as we were stopped at the door so that we each could write our name on a name tag. As my husband wrote his name I glanced in the room and noticed that all the long rectangular tables that had been pushed into a circle so we could all face one another. I got even more nervous.

I am not good at being vulnerable with people. And when it came to Julian, I was very protective. So I wasn't sure what we were going to have to share with strangers or how I would do with opening up to people. I just knew that I craved having someone in my life that truly understood what I was going through. I just wanted anyone to get it. The closest person to understanding my feelings was my husband and even he didn't get the full magnitude of what I went through everyday because he was at work during most of it. He understood my frustrations but he didn't live it the same way I did everyday. I just knew there had to be another mother in this room that understood my heart.

As my husband and I slapped our name tags over our hearts we looked for a place to sit down. We ended up at the front of the room. We were the only two that sat there. Everyone else had managed to fill in the rest of the circle and we sat alone at the front of the room. We laid down our things to mark that our seats were taken and we headed toward the table that had the pizza. I couldn't wait to eat.

Last Friday in July

It was the last supervised visit in July. Fridays were always so hard for Julian and I. Our mommy and baby routine was always thrown off. We had to rush our mornings on Fridays and they were full of making sure he ate something just in case they didn't feed him. The bios were also very particular about his clothes. They sent him home in outfits they purchased and always told the social worker who brought him back to me that they wanted to see him in that outfit the next visit. His hair was always to dry to them so they would send home products they wanted us to try. Each visit was a different problem for these people. And we could do nothing about their requests except do as they asked because to social services this was their child and they got what they wanted. The problem for me was they were always worried about his appearance. It didn't matter to them that he hadn't learned to roll over yet because of his injuries. They never asked me for details on his physical therapy or how his acid reflux was. It wasn't a concern to them that he had night terrors or that he was sick for three days after his vaccinations. Instead they concentrated on his outward appearance. And so this is what we had to concentrate on in order to get out the door.

So on the last Friday of July, Julian and I rushed around the house trying to make it on time to his supervised visit. He was in their clothes as they requested. His hair was full of the products I was told to use. And by the time we both got to the garage door we were both ready for a nap. But that didn't matter to anyone but us. What Julian or I needed didn't matter, what mattered is that we were to the visit on time and that he looked pretty. If I were the bios I wouldn't have cared if his face was dirty as long as the police were working on who hurt my child....assuming I wasn't guilty of hurting him myself. It wouldn't matter to me if the people taking care of him put him in trendy kids clothes as long as he was cool in the summer and warm in the winter. More than that I wouldn't worry about his hair being to dry or sticking strait up in the air if he smiled and his eyes glistened each time I saw him because he was happy to see me. But then again I would never have been in the position the bios were in because I would never had made the dumb decisions they did.

As I put my baby in the car that Friday I prayed for a miracle as I always did when I drove him to these visits. God PLEASE let them screw up enough so they don't get him back. With each plea the butterflies grew in my stomach. The closer we got to the visit the more I felt the lump in my throat. I hated handing Julian over to whoever came out to get him for the visit. It was an hour of our day but to me it was an hour I would never get back. It was also an hour that could change the entire way this case could go.

If it was a good hour Betty Rose would continue to talk about reunification. If they would just stop showing up to these visits we could finally get their rights revoked and move on with our lives. Each hour he spent with the bios made a difference in the case. I just wanted more hours that put the case in our favor vs. theirs.

As always we were right on time. Julian was in the back seat sleeping as I parked the car. As soon as the car stopped he took that as his cue to wake up. I took him out of his car seat and put him in the passengers seat while we waited for someone to come get him. As we sat in the car together we played peek a boo. I would cover his head with his favorite blue blanket, the one that looked like Grovers fur from Sesame Street and it had an embroidered giraffe on it. With his head covered I would say, "Where's Julian?" He would remain very still under the blanket but I could feel his smile fill the air. So I would ask again "Where's Julian?" He would rip the blanket from his head and giggle while I yelled, "There he is!"

It was a game that occupied us for hours some days and each giggle made me want to play over and over just to hear it. As we played games and waited I looked at the clock and my heart began to race. The bios were late for the visit! I was so excited at the thought of them not showing up! I was remembering the last time they didn't show up and I was told that if they were 10 minutes late the visit was cancelled. I waited two more minutes and then I started calling around to figure out if we could go home or not.

I knew if I didn't get a hold of someone like Betty Rose and we just left that somehow it would be my fault that the visit was messed up. I made five phone calls and finally got a hold of one of the girls that usually supervised the visits. I told her we were waiting outside and she said, " Well they haven't shown up yet and they haven't called us to give us an excuse. When I tried to call them I got the message that their phone had been disconnected. So they are either to late or they choose not to show up. Whatever the case you can go home. I will tell Betty Rose they didn't show and that you were here on time." I couldn't believe my ears! FINALLY one point for our team. The bios didn't show! I hung up the phone, put Julian back in his car seat and got out of that parking lot like a bat out of hell. I was flying to get out of there because I didn't want to give them a chance to show up late and still have the visit.

All the way home I thank God for the blessing. I prayed it was the start of a trend. I started to think to myself, maybe since she got pregnant they will just give up on seeing Julian. The phone was disconnected...maybe they left town. Wouldn't that be the best thing for all of us at this point. For them to just up and leave! If they just gave up we could finally be a real family! Just the three of us living the dream my husband and I had hoped for all this time. I knew that with them not showing up things were finally going to change. Betty Rose would finally have to see they didn't deserve to have Julian. They couldn't even show up for an hour that week to see their child. I couldn't wait to hear what she had to say about this visit!