a picture in Wisconsin that my Mom took recently
On Train Track Switching.
When we first started on the foster-to-adopt track, a long while ago, we would often be told that now we would find ourselves pregnant. Stories would be told. Things rehashed. So much so that I began to expect it. I would buy things for the baby- wondering if it would end up being for a foster baby or for one that we had ourselves.
When we started taking the required 33 hours of foster care classes and I didn't particularly feel like leaving my children for 2 hours and sitting in a classroom every Monday night, I began to wonder "Is the whole train going to switch tracks this week? Are we going to find ourselves pregnant and not ever have to come here again?" I would even pray before almost every class: "Heavenly Father, do I really have to go to class again?" Every time I felt that we should go. And we went.
We made friends in the class, learned a lot and had a good time. We finished the course work, got certified for CPR and were ready to foster!
When thinking about this, I at first thought of a train derailment, but that's not exactly it. In a train derailment, the train goes headfirst over the missing tracks- falling and crashing. This was to be more like a switching of the train tracks- to a different and yet, new scenic pathway.
At that point, our case worker said that we were to be put on a 6 month waiting period to see if I really was stable on my depression meds. This was a mini train track change in itself, but while we were a little discouraged, we were trusting and willing to do whatever was needed. And I was secretly hoping that we would get pregnant during that time.
Nothing happened in the way of pregnancy and I anxiously awaited for those 6 months to be up. At 5 months, I called our case worker, hoping that enough time had passed and that it would take a month to renew any paperwork and we would be good to go. After this period, the train went very slowly. Our caseworker was bogged down in files that took more precedence than ours (families who were caring for relatives through the foster system and now just needed to be certified). It took months to even make any progress.
And then, finally, our final home inspection was completed and we were almost ready. We were fully and completely committed to doing foster care. We had told our family, our friends, our Church family. Plans for going anywhere in September were put on hold, because we might have a baby by then.
And then the train switched tracks! The paperwork had been signed, we waiting for that email that confirmed that we were completely certified to foster and two little pink lines showed up on a test one Monday morning.
To say we were surprised would be an understandment. As I left out the statue we use to show that I am expecting, Josh had to pull me aside and have me explain what was going on. I didn't really know myself. All I knew is that I had a positive pregnancy test and that something new was happening. I could feel the change in the air, like we were going under a tunnel, coming out under Fall colored leaves and a scenic change. And we were excited/a little nervous/thrilled/etc.
Since then, at times, I have been almost bitter. I wanted to do foster care. What did that other track look like/feel like? We had spent so much time and energy into it. I almost felt as though I had miscarried our foster care plans. If that is such a thing.
Yet, as I sit here, seeing a new vista and feeling tiny, little flutterings at 17 weeks along and going over baby names- mostly of boys- I can't help but wonder at the beauty and grace of it all.
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