We are the proud parents of a SIX YEAR OLD!

So in March, we were contacted by a DCFS worker in Salt Lake who said they had a six year old they wanted to place. She wasn't actually in DCFS custody, but it was a disrupted adoption, and they needed a family as soon as possible.

They took our home study, considered us, and within a couple of days, called and told us we had been selected for "B" or Brianna, as she will be called here. We were excited, but just a bit nervous. Certainly an 18 year old was too old to blend into a new family; but would a six year old be too young for us? We are not spring chickens!

However, we prayed and fasted about this, and decided, over and over, that we felt good about Brianna. Our faith and ability to know we can have answers to prayers has been tested to the limit with the past failed attempts at adoption. Can we do this? For some reason, we believe we can.

So, after five weeks of transitioning her, last night after her therapy visit, she moved in for good. We were going to wait a few more days, but she kept asking to come back home with us, and we had heard how bad her behavior had been last week with her family. (It has got to be hard feeling caught between two families, and not even understanding the reason why.)

So after we decided to go ahead and bring her home last night, it was rather bittersweet, however, as she was told she could back to live with us for a really long time. Bittersweet as she at first, happily said goodbye to her adoptive father, who really has been her almost sole support for quite some time. Bittersweet after saying good bye to her dad and driving away, she began crying saying she missed her family. We called him up and talked to him briefly, and she felt better. We will continue to do that as often as she needs, and allow visits as much as long as it is helpful.

I don't think she will be an easy child, however. She is frequently disobedient or likes to take control, but with gentle reminders, she seems to be able to be pulled back into compliance. We are applying our Beyond Consequences training, which has been very helpful so far.

We have already bonded with her quite a bit; she is especially close to Mark, I think because she is used to dads being the caretakers. It's good for him, but I do my share of caretaking too. Bedtimes are sweet moments; we have developed a routine, two stories, a prayer, two songs, usually Twinkle Twinkle, and I am a Child of God. And back scratching. Fifteen minutes, and then she is out.

It's 6:36 a.m., and she just came into our room, said good morning, and said how much she liked being here. She then said, "I like you guys. I like you Karen. Can I borrow your Ipad?" (Lol. I contemplated letting her know she could borrow my Ipad, even without telling me she liked me.) But then she went on, Ipad in hand. "I love you guys." We reaffirmed we love her too.

And we do. We love children! And so far, she's not hard to love. No, I don't think it will be easy. (Okay, I know we are still "honeymooning" here, more than I know probably. I will keep you posted on that!)

We are taking a step back, and a step forward, as we begin the task of raising a young child. Will we do things the same as we did with our biological children? Some things like reading lots of books, playing outside, going to the park frequently. But other things I will try to learn from how our grown children parent: watching closely to see we are consistent and follow through with expectations, getting her involved in sports, or other activities, as she is able, looking for educational activities for her to participate in, and using, we hope, LOTS AND LOTS of patience! Which truthfully, I think I've learned from my adorable grandchildren, more than anyone.

And despite being "new" parents, I hope and pray to be as involved  I hope we can stay involved with our grown children's lives, and in the lives of our grandchildren. Which I think we will because we have Brianna to engage in all kinds of life experiences with them. And I hope we can still do some of the things we have come to love: family history, being with friends, traveling, bicycling, art. If that's just not too much to ask.

So here is our new adventure. We hope THIS time, we can succeed. What is success? Just loving her, teaching her, hoping for the best, but not expecting miracles necessarily. However, as my wonderful sister in law who was adopted as a five year old told me the other day, "It's so cool you're adopting her. I hate to think where I would have been without being adopted as a child."

Do we expect miracles? Maybe the miracle is in having someone else to love and to give to and do for, and to become the best WE can be, while we hope for the best she can be. We are grateful for the opportunity.

February; there IS spring, and hope ahead!

Most Februarys are rather bleak. It is that time of year when winter never seems to want to quit holding onto us, preventing us from having the hope we feel at springtime. And this February is no different. February 11 is one year from the time we met her. She had planned that we would go out to the restaurant where we first met her on that day. Instead, February 11 sneaked by unnoticed in our lives.

It's been difficult attempting to heal from the second failed adoption attempt. I can't say that we failed this time, only maybe in allowing it to go on so long. But after our first effort, we were determined that WE wouldn't be the ones to pull the plug another time. It hurt so much to be the ones to hurt our first girl, that we couldn't see doing that again.

But overall, we can see we tried our best, we gave her our love, and then, when she said she couldn't do it, we let her go, with not that much of a fuss. A lot of heartache, maybe, but not much of a fuss. So she is gone, she is not talking to us and that's unfortunate, but fine, if that's what she has to do. We did expect and hope for the impossible. We thought love could heal and repair the damage that she suffered at others' hands. But  it wasn't enough, at least, not in the time frame we had.

So I am trying to follow my own grief counseling; allow time to talk about it, feel the pain, allow time to adjust to this very quiet house,  We are getting involved in new activities: family history, I'm learning the organ, I"m playing the piano more, we are spending time with the dog Tasia left behind (a topic in itself). I'm learning to quilt (thanks daughter Sarah), we are going on short trips, we are spending much quality time alone together, watching shows that Tasia didn't like, and redecorating as we can. I'm trying to exercise more, go on bike rides, go to the gym. It was OUR place, ours with Tasia, but I'm not willing to completely give it up for the sad memories.

We are also spending much more time with our grandkids, which is very pleasant. They are so adorable. And more time with our biological kids and their spouses.

We still skip past many songs on our phones or on the radio that remind us of her. We still break down and cry at times. But not as often. We are pretty sure she's been able to stuff away any feelings of sadness. She has moved on, and so must we.

Would we ever attempt this again? Hard to say. Two very difficult experiences attempting to adopt an older teen that did not come to fruition make us hesitate to try again. What good came out of the past 3 years? None that I can really see. But who knows, maybe the good lies up ahead.

I made a list yesterday of the things I want to accomplish before I die, whether that is one year or 30 years away. Here it is:

Spend lots of time with Mark; go to the temple often, continue counseling as long as I can; exercise a lot; be close to my ideal weight; travel, adopt (yes that's still in there); get really good at art, be a great therapist, and a great organist; go to Europe, spend a LOT of time with family, finish the story of my life, do lots of family history, pay off all debt, have a year's supply of food, see Tasia and Madison again and let them feel my love, and let my husband, children and their families know how very much I love them.

Gave it one more try

So we tried to reach out to her again today. But it didn't work. I think she's just not ready for a family.

Kind of a rough time for us, but we will recover eventually. I hope Tasia recovers from walking away from us. We tried to do a nearly impossible thing, and I guess we shouldn't have been too surprised it didn't work out.

Hopefully, someday we will look back and say, "There! That's what we learned right there! This or that couldn't have happened if it weren't for these hard times!" And we hope that she has learned something good from being with us. We keep hoping for that, and for someday, especially, a miracle in her life.

We always will love her.

Merry ? Christmas!

It's a beautiful sunny, but snowy day in Northern Utah. From where I sit, I can see our entire valley, spanning out to the mountains on the other side. It's a little hazy in the distance, which seems appropriate for life in our home right now..

First, let me say, that generally, I love Christmas. I love the music, the decorations, the shopping, and the time with family. And most of all, I love the extra focus on Jesus, and I often feel closer to him this month. This has been a difficult month however. Monday, our 18 year old foster-to-adopt daughter, Tasia, chose to leave our home. She had had to pay some pretty stiff consequences (not really of our choice) for her very difficult behavior 10 days ago-- and was out of our home for over a week. We didn't think at first she would come back at all. But in spite of her bad behavior, we again offered to finalize her adoption as soon as possible, and we offered to help her find a place to live in the Valley to get her started toward her independent life-- with a family to help back her up.

But coming home, even temporarily, was just too much for her; too much of thinking she could blow up again at us; too much embarrassment and shame that she blew up before. And bottom line, loving people like us, and feeling love from us, is just really too scary for a child/adult where to be loved was to be hurt.

So Tasia is gone. We hope for some kind of a continuing relationship with her, because even though she is so difficult, we just love her. Fully and completely. We love her and even get rather upset with ourselves that we do.  She felt like one of our children. Now that she has gone, we are trying to separate ourselves from her emotionally, while still trying to keep a line of communication open in case she wants to reach out to us. Very difficult to do.

So what have we learned? My sister told me today, "There are no failures, just learning opportunities." We have learned you can love someone who is often unlovable. That you can forgive even when there is no reason to forgive. We have learned we are not too old to have fun! And whether we are able to move on and find peace, is a learning opportunity that remains to be experienced.

But on this Christmas day, where life feels bleak in spite of good times, safety, peace, quiet, (my son-in-law's frequent comment to his kids popped into my mind when one of his children are running off to sulk, "Don't threaten ME with peace and quiet!"). But though life feels bleak for many people at Christmas time because of loss, loneliness, broken dreams, sad and distant memories, there is the Savior to heal us-- Heavenly Father to help us get through sad times and family members and friends who do care and reach out. THere are smles of our little grandkids and their joy of life especially at this time of year. I love to watch the expression on their faces as they open presents, and even as they watch siblings and cousins open their presents, and how they celebrate with others their good fortune at the new gift.

I love these people who are in my life. The two sons, three daughters, their spouses, and nearly ten grandchildren. They bring joy to us, and they help to fill many empty spaces in our hearts.  And  I am so grateful for my dear husband. We grieve together, but generally, one of us grieves more than the other, so we can help each other through this challenging time.

And most of all, I'm grateful for Heavenly Father and his Son. It is because of them we can all get through the hard times. It is because of the Savior that people like Tasia can someday, have their hearts healed.  And it because of Him and his birth, life, atonement and resurrection there is that opportunity for an eternal future with our friends and family and loved ones. And somehow, someday, because of the Savior, our hearts will heal too.


Love you Tasia, wherever you are in life, and whatever you do. Take care, remember the good  times and good people who have led you, and make good choices. You have so much good inside of you! God loves you and always will.

Life again Marches ON!

It's been quite awhile since I've posted anything to this blog. And I hesitate to now, but I think I will go ahead despite my hesitations. I want to protect privacy, at the same time I want to share this experience with those of you out there who regularly read this, and some who just happen to come across it.

So nearly two months ago, Tasia moved in. Honeymoon phase didn't last too long. Let's be clear, we are using all the skills we can, trying unconditional love, and at times things go well. But other times, not so much. But we knew to expect that. It's just reality is reality! However, we are hanging in there (almost) no matter what. If there is anything we learned from the last adventures in foster-to-adopt, giving up is more painful than NOT giving up!! And it's teaching us all kinds of things about ourselves, like how to pull out strengths we didn't think we had, how to NOT say what we really WANT to say (well, harder for me than Mark.) How to turn the other cheek, (I've found numerous cheeks to turn!) How to forgive far faster than I thought capable.

It's also taught me how resilient kids can be, how they can cope with what seems like insurmountable problems. I'm not going to get specific here, to maintain privacy, but life can be tough for so many children out there.

And though I have to ask myself (and I DO), why they heck are we trying this? I love that story of the man who comes across a boy on the beach, throwing back into the water stranded starfish. The man says to the boy, "Why are you doing this? Don't you see how many starfish there are still stranded? You can't possible make a difference to all of them!" And the boy answers, as he throws yet another starfish into the water, "Well, I made a difference to that one!"

That's our hope. We don't know what will end up happening frankly. She IS 18 after all, and somedays, like to most teenagers, having a permanent family sounds more like a jail sentence (I suspect) than a good idea! So we will see how it goes.

And for any friends and family who are reading this, I just want to tell you thanks for your support. It means a lot. If you have any other friends or family out there who are trying to foster and/or adopt children, let them know how much you care. It's definitely far harder than it looks. Let's hope in the end, it's also  far more rewarding!!

A New "Child"

I remembered the other day that my desire to adopt didn't just start a few years back. It began before I even met Mark. I remember talking with a friend when I was a teenager about someday adopting children who needed a home. This dream took many years to get even close to fruition. But we are getting closer. Not so much with Madison, however. Her team has several other families, in addition to us, who want her. Will we be considered again? Our fear says no; our faith and hope says yes.

So we are in the awkward position of moving on, while holding on to hopes from the past. But some aspects of the future look delightful.

In November, one of the caseworkers who were assigned to the Madison case told us he had the perfect child for us. She was almost 18, and about to age out of foster care. "Anastasia" came from Russia 7 years before. Tasia really wanted a family still. Because we were still working with Madison and Shelly's teams, we didn't even consider her. But by the end of January, we decided it was time to think about Tasia, the one who IS ready for a home.

Over the past almost two months now, we have been getting to know Tasia. We are really enjoying her. This week she will spend Spring Break with us, after having spent the last couple of weekends with us. She is fun to have around. We are happy to offer her a home, a family, or friendship, whatever she chooses.  So far, she is choosing a future which involves us.

This doesn't mean we love Madison any less, or that we want her back any less, but we are hoping to eventually have both girls in our lives. Shelly I guess will have to wait awhile, and it sounds like that is just what her team wants to do.

So the question may come up, why are we driven to adopt?  Like many families who feel these urges, there is purpose in them. These children who have had to struggle far more than most of us, still need that love and support to guide them through their lives. They need a  place to come back to for holidays, a place to call when they are hurting, alone, or in need of assistance.  They need a family. Welcome to ours, Tasia.

Here we are....

I'm not really sure who I am writing this to, or really why. But writing does heal, to some extent.

We still want to foster to adopt, but it sure isn't easy to follow your heart sometimes! Especially when other people are not on board where your heart is leading.

We found out that while Madison's DCFS team are finally not opposed to us having visits with her, it has to go through her Judge. Which has obstacles of its own. We grieve Madison still, and always will I'm afraid.

With the other girl for whom we have been selected as foster to adopt parents for Shelly (also not her real name), BUT her team doesn't think she's ready for parents. Like many professionals, they expect her to somehow get stable BEFORE she goes to a permanent home. But we have learned that it takes permanency before they eventually become stable.

So it's tiring, and we wish sometimes we could just move on to the next stage of life without this step. But something keeps us here, and we believe it's the sense that our family is not yet complete.