The last day

I haven't quite figured out how to post pics here. But I will give it a shot I've been putting it off. Bad me, always putting stuff off. Tonight, I put off laundry, dishes, removing my nail polish...then I realized that at least one member of this family might have to "go commando" tomorrow, and I decided to put a load of clothes in at 10:00pm.

Yeah, I've talked to my therapist about my "Aww...it's 'good enough'" attitude. It really isn't sinking in, other than I'm thinking about it more.

But that's not why you called.

There are so many dates that stick with me where Isaac is concerned. I wonder if they are permanent memories or something that will fade, in time, like an old address or phone number. March 15, 2004, the day we found out about his birth mom.
(oddly enough, I don't remember the day she chose us. It was whatever Friday came after the 15th, I think. It happened fast.)
March 30, 2004, the day we found out he was a boy. We didn't want to find out, but she wanted us to know.
May 4, 2004, the day he was born.
May 7, 2004, the day he left the hospital to live with his foster grandparents.
May 8, 2004, the first time I heard him cry, on the phone, when I called his foster grandparents.
May 9, 2004, my first Mother's Day...and the last one I had without my son.
May 12, 2004, the day his birthmother went to court to terminate rights.

and today, May 20, 2004, the day he and his birth mother saw each other for the last time.

We were waiting out the 10 (business day) waiting period during which his birth mother could change her mind. She asked the social worker if she could see him again. They met the foster grandparents at a McDonald's. She held him one last time and took some pictures. When she got home, she wrote him a note. Copies of those pictures, with a few others, that note and information from the agency are the only tools we have to explain to him where he came from. And we have no information on his birth father at all, other than he was African American, tall (judging from Isaac's height) and he might have been a truck driver.

The note she wrote him on the last day she saw him is written as if to a much older kid. Perhaps she was clever in doing so. He will not read it until he is much older. It says that he can call or write her. It is very simple. The best she could do.

We will not know how to get in touch with her if the time should come that he wants to meet her. The agency lost touch not a year after he was born. We sent letters and pictures, as promised, but she never came to the agency and asked for them. She had been a bit of a drifter, would be 45 now and who knows, with her lifestyle as it was, if she is even still alive. Sad, but true.

I had no intention to get so morose when I sat down here to write.

But there you have it.

I try not to be a fool about such things, but part of me believes that he will just roll with it and not be interested in his birth family. It will be natural that he is curious, and I hope I'm ready for the stormyness of adolescence when it comes. I know I've got a long time to wait for that, but it will go by fast. I think he will probably want to know more about his birth father and that will be hard because we don't even have a name.

Everyday I hope that we're good enough. That he will always grow up feeling like he got the parents he was meant to have and our family belongs together.

Today, we remember the last day he was ever in his birth mother's arms.
Next week, we celebrate the day he came into ours.

Mayday! Mayday!

1.) I took Isaac to school and this little girl named Jayonna (that's not how she spells it, but that is how it sounds) turned around and started winking at him and throwing him coy looks. WINKING at him! I'm so not ready for this. When I picked him up on Thursday evening, he was playing with Jayonna. They were wearing dress-up clothes and having a wedding. He assures me they were not marrying each other, though. I think they must have been guests. She did not want him to leave and kept asking him to go with her to get a sheet? Or maybe a sheep? Out of the garden? I just couldn't understand what she was saying. I asked if he could do it on Friday and she said "Maybe Wednesday..." She's adorable. He knows the pretty girls.

2.) It is raining, it's pouring and in spite of the fact that it is an old wives' tale, I do think I have caught a cold from being out there in the wet all morning. But, I had stuff to do.

3.) I went to Target and got some stuff. I went to Party America and got 3 more whistle pops and 3 more packs of pop rocks so I can have a goody bag for each invited kid. I was worried about just doing the bags for kids who have RSVP'd and not having enough if we get some unexpected guests. Goody bag contents: a pencil, a wind-up robot, a tiny can of Play-doh, a mini kaliedescope, a "finger" skateboard, a noise-maker, a package of pop rocks and a whistle pop. I went to Michael's and discovered they have WAAAAY more cake and canding making/decorating supplies than Hobby Lobby. I got some stuff. I went to Reasor's, I got...more stuff.

4.) Between Target and Party America. My mom called me. Now T is doing well enough to stay home alone and Mom has gone back to work. Their financial problems are about as bad as they can get. Sometimes I think Mom is the one losing it, not T. She won't be at Isaac's birthday party tomorrow. That's OK. Between not having gas money, not wanting to leave T alone and the flood waters...she needs to stay home. Isaac probably won't notice his Nana isn't there, but we're not mentioning it to him unless/until he asks, because he will probably get emotional about it.

5.) I went home and baked a cake. And the cake came out of the pan just fine! Yay! I followed directions to a "t." While the cake was cooling, I made the "Eva-pops". (Wall-E theme on the party, if you haven't seen the movie, Eve (or Eva) is Wall-E's friend). I had seen the pops online. A mom made hers out of crumbled up cake mixed with icing, then dipped in white chocolate. I thought Rice Krispie treats would work just as well.

I was wrong. Let's just leave it at that. I bit the heads off a few failures and felt a little better.

6.) I iced the cake in white, as per instructions. So far, so good. I moved onto start decorating and discovered this bad boy was a giant pain in the ass. I was not well organized. I didn't have the right tips. I couldn't see where I needed to be putting things and I was frustrated and stressed out and increasingly covered in icing. I smelled like buttercream all day. I was NOT having fun. This was supposed to be FUN. So, I cleaned up, changed clothes and went for a manicure and pedicure. Oh, but BEFORE that, I stopped by the bakery down the street and bought a very generic sheet cake. I'll pop the Wall-E figurine/candle on there and no one will care. The cake will taste just as good (maybe better) and I'm not going crazy or bathing in buttercream. Sure, I spent some money on the pan, the colors, the icings, etc. But I can return everything I didn't use and maybe I can sell the pan on Craigslist. Whatever.

7.) I went home and started cleaning up the kitchen. I put a deli pizza in the oven, directly on the rack as I have done many, many times before. Pat and Isaac did a great job cleaning the living room and putting clothes away. I began to take the pizza out of the oven by sliding a cookie sheet underneath it and pulling forward, as I have done MANY, MANY times before. But instead of sliding forward, the pizza tilted backwards and fried itself to the back wall of the oven. Melted cheese and sauce slide down and stuck to the bottom burners. It took all the strength I had left not to drop an F-bomb.

8.) Oh yeah, we are back to Pat having NO time off for our anniversary.

9.) Ever wonder why you even try in the first place?

10.) Tomorrow will be better. Tomorrow it is someone else's turn to walk under the dark cloud.