The 20th Kid

There's a new baby on my street.

He's in foster care, so I can't share much about him.  I'm not sure what to call him, so for now, I'll just call him 'Foster Baby'.  Creative, huh?

Foster Baby has a great foster mom, Beth.  She and I go way back.  :-)

This is a bit of a long story...

Beth and I met... wow, maybe 12 or 13 years ago?  Neither of us had any kids back then.  As couples, Noah, Beth, Jason and I could get together, eat brats, drink beer, and play the BEST card game in the world:  Nerts. 

April 2002 began the string of children.  As of April 25, 2013, between our two families, there were 8 children living on this earth (5 biological, 3 adopted), 7 already in Glory, and 4 foster children who have gone on to live with other families.

Nineteen children.  That's a lot of kids.  :-)

In April 2006, Beth and I found ourselves expecting babies together.  It was her 3rd pregnancy, and my 1st pregnancy, after 8 years of infertility.  Our due dates were just 10 days apart.  I'm not sure you could have found two happier friends.  :-)

Little baby Lindegren came way too early, at only 8 weeks.  It was devastating in so many ways.  Beth continued a normal, healthy pregnancy (and I am grateful for that), and as her belly grew bigger, I was an observer rather than a companion.  It hurt so much to watch every week of her pregnancy pass, knowing that I 'should' have been experiencing the very same things she was experiencing.  And I struggled with whether I should remain somewhat distant from Beth to protect myself from more pain, or jump in with her and celebrate the anticipated arrival of her baby girl.  I wish I hadn't, but I kept my distance until Beth's baby was born - it was just too painful to do otherwise.  And then I jumped in and became that baby's second mama.  :-)

Fast forward 6 years...

A year ago today, May 11, Beth and I were sitting in her back yard, watching our kids play, and dreaming about the babies we would be welcoming later in the year.  She was 17 weeks pregnant.  I was 11 weeks pregnant.  I think both of us may have been convinced (or at least extremely hopeful) that this was an opportunity for redemption.  For us to get to enjoy what we'd been cheated 6 years earlier.  That we'd get to watch our babies grow up and be best friends.  :-)

But on Mother's Day, just 2 days later, Beth's baby boy was born.  At just 17 weeks.  

Agony.  It was agony for both of us.  For the roles to have been reversed, and for my friend to be grieving the loss of her son while I was still carrying a baby. 

And then.. July 3.  When my life came to a grinding halt and the world just fell apart.  When we found out in the ultrasound room that we were going to get to meet our first little Lindegren girl, and then 30 minutes later, that she'd probably only live for a few hours.

Beth and I cried together a lot.  Her baby boy was already in Heaven, and my baby girl would be joining him soon.  

Noah and Beth decided that they would open their home to foster children again, hoping to care for orphans in a way that would honor the loss of their son.  

Elliana was born on October 5, 2012, and she died early the morning of October 6.  Beth was our sweet and amazing photographer.  :-)

Noah and Beth were called by Social Services at the beginning of December and asked if they could provide a (probably temporary) home to an infant boy.  Of course, they said 'yes'.  And they welcomed Baby C into their home.

I had a difficult time *welcoming* Baby C.  I was thankful that he was being cared for in Noah and Beth's loving home.  I was thankful that Beth didn't have empty arms, and that Baby C was filling a little bit of the hole in her heart.  But I couldn't embrace him, like Beth did.  I couldn't hold him, or look at him for too long.  That sounds r i d i c u l o u s.  But other babies just... make the 'noise' of Elliana's absence even louder.

One particular morning stands out in my mind so clearly.  Beth and I were both pulling out of our driveways (we live just a house apart from each other) to take our kids to the local drop-in care place.  Beth's 4-year-old wound up getting in my van and just riding with us.  On the way there, I realized something.  Beth had still been in her pj's, she hadn't been able to have a shower yet that day, and I think Baby C was crying in his car seat while Beth and I were talking about carpooling.  She was... a 'new mom'.  She was experiencing everything a new mom goes through. 

And I wasn't.

I was completely dressed.  My hair was done.  I might have even had earrings on.  And it was because I didn't have an infant to take care of. 

It felt a little harder to relate to Beth after that.  It felt like we were in two different places.  I knew she was still grieving the loss of her son, but she had a foster son.  She was taking care of an infant, and I wasn't.

In a way, I felt like I had lost my friend.  Sort of.  We were both still grieving, but in different ways.  Very different ways.  Her, with a baby in her arms and diapers to change, and me, with... no baby.

It was ok.  I wanted her to have Baby C.  He brought joy, and comfort, and smiles.

Baby C went to live with a family member on April 25, 2013.  Beth had to say goodbye to him, and her arms were empty again.

I'm afraid this is going to sound really selfish, like I'm glad Baby C was gone.  And... I guess I am selfish. But I'm not glad Baby C was gone.  It hurt to see my friend hurting - again.

But... I had my friend back.  I'm ashamed to admit that I was glad to have my friend back - and it was because Baby C was gone.  She and I could talk a little more freely, and I didn't have to use energy trying to be ok with having a baby around.  And as weird as that might sound, it did take energy.

Baby C left on April 25, and two short weeks later, almost to the day, social services called Beth and asked if they would take another needy infant.  Of course, they said 'yes'.  Because that's what they do - they care for orphans.  Really, really well.  :-)

So this past Thursday, Foster Baby (the 20th kid) arrived.  I haven't met him yet.  I'm struggling with what this means for my relationship with Beth.  It might mean that I avoid a relationship with Foster Baby, that I keep him at arm's length, and that I just sort of ignore his presence on the street.

Or, this time...

I jump in with Beth.

I could embrace Foster Baby.  Hold him, love him, get attached to him, let him help fill the gaping hole in my heart.  Be a part of his life for as long as he's living on my street.  Let my kids be a part of his life, and let them be a part of loving an orphan.

But if I do, I risk getting hurt.  There's always a risk in foster care.  I know this first-hand.  You get attached, hope that this child you've cared for and mommied for months will become part of the family, and then a judge decides to place him with relatives.  It hurts.  It hurts so much.  I'm not sure my heart can take much more of that right now. 

I might flip-flop between the two.  One day, avoiding Foster Baby, and the next day, jumping onto the roller coaster with Foster Baby and Beth.

Poor Beth.  She might be ready to throw something at me after a week or two of that.  :-)