Every choice made impacts your life. Even the simple decisions that we mindlessly make, later somehow have brought our lives to the point in which we are in at this very moment. It’s so crazy and wild to think that a simple decision to go to the local pizza joint to grab a slice can somehow lead you to bumping into the man you will one day marry. How a conversation among strangers may take you in the direction of your ultimate dream job. I don’t believe that a life is predestined. I do believe in one way or another we may be guided in the direction we were meant to follow. At the age of twenty five I sat silently in my living room and looked around my empty apartment. I really loved my apartment. It was decorated to my taste; it was quaint and very cozy. I had a decent job so I was able to afford living on my own with the exception of my sweet Cavapoo (for those of you not sure it is a Cavalier King Charles Spaniel & teacup poodle mix)Phoebe. I had a decent life at that point and yet I wanted much more. I wanted to give back to those in need. I wanted to help someone who needed it most. I wanted to be able to change the life of someone and truly make a difference. I had already joined a big sister program and was committed to that bi-weekly but it still didn’t feel like enough. I had a spare room in my apartment that I used for storage. I went online and looked up foster care. It was a fleeting thought. Something I wasn’t super sure about but was curious. I looked on many websites and read a bit. I learned enough to know they were in great need in my location. There was a button on the website basically requesting more information. I didn’t think much when I clicked that button. I didn’t realize with that simple press of that button my whole world was going to change. I could never even fathom how much. I guess we all have those times where we look back and are like…”How in the world did life take me here?” All I did was click a button and not only did my life change, my life began.
I was at work, busy tending to the two year old who I cared for. I was a nanny for a family of two boys. One was school aged, so I was preparing his snack for when he was to arrive home. The other child resting on my hip as I quickly moved through the house upon hearing my phone ring. I ran over and answered not even bothering to look at the caller ID. *Another pivotal moment in my world. I spoke briefly to a woman who I still to this day am not sure how, had gained access to my number? She was from the department of Children & Families and she was reaching out because I inquired information on a website. That I do remember, I do not remember typing my phone number anywhere. Weird right? She informed me about a class or training that foster parents are required to attend before becoming licensed foster parents. She said they had an opening and asked if I wanted to take one of the few remaining slots. I was hesitant. I didn’t want all of this. I was just curious. I wasn’t prepared to commit. Was I? She somehow convinced me to join. She promised there would be no obligation to become a foster parent in the end. So what was the harm? Agreeing was another life altering moment. Man I had a great deal of those, how clueless was I? I joined the class and it started within weeks of the phone call I had with the woman. The woman, I now am very grateful to.
The night of class I was a bit nervous. I lived in a busy city and usually avoided anywhere that people from the actual city would be. Sometimes I am socially awkward, other times I thrive in public. I wasn’t actually sure which persona my anxiety would allow me to be that night. I was prepared though, and actually felt like a nerd when I was eager to get the seat closest to those “Teaching” and or “Leading” the class. I am not sure who sat down first. I don’t know if it was me or this other seemingly nervous short brunette. Either way, like me she had a notebook, pens, and was thrilled about getting a front row seat. Conversing with her was another life changer. I was meant to be in this particular class. I was meant to sit in the very seat I did. If I wasn’t and it was all by chance than by golly I love the chance I was given. Everything about the experience in class just felt right. The brunette beside me I realized quickly was going to be a dear friend. (One of the best friends and support that anyone would hope for)I felt like more than ever I was supposed to be in that room. I was supposed to be a foster parent. Maybe it would lead me down a road unexpected?
I am someone who likes to be prepared. I am not spontaneous. I don’t just jump in the car and drive with no destination in mind. I can’t just take a vacation on a whim. I like to do my research. I love google. I love reviews. I like to know what I am getting myself into. When the foster care classes came to an end after 6 weeks I informed the social workers that I would not be taking any placements until summer was over. I told them to imagine as if I was pregnant and the summer was time for me to “nest” and or prepare. I had much work to do on the spare room which would soon be a baby’s room. I wanted to have one or several last hurrahs if you will. Once summer was over then I would crack down and become this foster parent that they so desperately wanted me to be. That didn’t stop them of course from calling me. When a child needs to be placed they will go down the list and be sure to ask everyone. I didn’t want to be selfish by saying no but I knew myself and knew I needed time to adjust, prepare, and just process what I was about to do. Multiple times they called and multiple times I said no.
I was at work when I got yet another call from my social worker. She called me quite frequently but this one would prove to be different. Would I be aware? Of course not, but that doesn’t change that it was. I politely and regretfully declined this baby boy whom was in the hospital waiting to be discharged. I just couldn’t. Not yet. Could I? To make a long story a bit shorter; even though I declined this placement a few weeks later the department again questioned me on taking him. For some reason they just couldn’t find a permanent placement for this little guy. He was still in the hospital due to complications but would be released and if I agreed I could take him. Babies are usually a hot commodity. Everyone wants a puppy at the pound. Everyone wants a baby. So why was this baby not getting swooped up. Fate would have it that baby was waiting for someone. That baby was waiting for me.
4 years have gone and I lay here in my bed typing this all out to you. Looking around my room which is decorated to my liking, Phoebe crawling around under my bed with her pal Annie (toy poodle), My phone buzzing with a text that could possibly be from one of my best friends (the nervous, short brunette that I met from class), and my door open wide so I can hear if my name is called from down the hall. Not the name you all know or my name given at birth, No, a name more meaningful and heartwarming than any other; Mama. It’s the name my son uses every day to call me. It’s the name he spoke only after saying the word ball first. It is who I am. I am a mother to a handsome, strong, independent, strong willed, stubborn, silly, mischievous, kind, & brave four year old. A boy, that came to my home after only a few simple phone conversations. My son; once an infant, who was placed in my arms all because I went online and clicked a tiny button requesting more information. My officially legal and adopted child who bears my last name, all because a handful of tiny choices I easily made. All the choices in our life bring us to where we are today. Today I am so unbelievably appreciative for every decision that guided me here. My choices brought this baby into my home. I will forever and always continue to choose HIM.
The-Not-So-Perfect-Mama 