Let's see...where did I leave off?
Oh...about the Gatlinburg Rebellion? Yea...that's right!
Big Daddy and I went for a little vacation to Gatlinburg, TN because I seriously could NOT take another Mother's Day Sunday at church again. The pain was still so raw from having to sit through the last one.
While we were out seeing the sights one day, we passed a tattoo shop and I knew right then what I had to do.
I walked in and told the greasy man that I wanted to get a crown tattoo. He drew a couple crowns and after picking the one I liked, he began his work. If you've never gotten a tattoo, let me tell you this; DON'T! I usually have a high tolerance for pain, but this time, I could barely sit still. It's on my right hip, at the bottom of my back, and it's gonna be there forever. I didn't care that they were trashy--that's what I'd been taught. I didn't care that even though I was married, my parents would kill me as soon as they found out. I didn't care that my sister would have a fit. I just didn't care---this was my Un-Mother's Day gift to myself.
So, we came on home and got back into reality.
We threw around the idea of going to Foster Parenting classes with DSS in our county. I have a cousin that was a foster parent and she was helping teach the class. She told us that we would be wonderful foster parents; that this might be God's way of letting us be "parents" without the birthing process, she shared with us that foster parents have a higher chance of adopting than normal couples, etc.
So--we went. After sitting through the first class, and crying all the way home, I told Big Daddy that there was absolutely NO WAY that I could keep a child in my home for weeks, months, or even in some cases, years and then have to send that child back into a bad situation. I cannot do that, because when I love you, I love you with everything I have. Nothing held back--ever. Just ask my family!
I did call my cousin and tell her that we wouldn't be attending the classes and that we were dropping out.
We began to talk about the idea of adoption. This seemed more real to me because I wanted a child of my own that I could love and nurture and raise like Christ would want me to. We knew of a young girl's family who had been telling everyone that she was pregnant and would be putting the child up for adoption. How do you go tell somebody that you want to adopt their child? That was really weird and hard for me, so we "sent word" through some friends. The birth mom was into drugs and we didn't have a lot of opportunity to talk to her. I didn't want to push her away, and it was really awkward. After a few months, we had heard through some of her family members that she gave the baby girl to a family in trade for drugs. I know that's not legal, but that was totally what happened.
So there I was--thinking...."How can she do this? We sooo wanted this baby?!" We were totally devastated.
Then an older lady at church had a grandson that had gotten a young lady pregnant. She was putting the baby up. She wanted to talk to me and Big Daddy and sent us her telephone number for us to call her.
We prayed together before we called. I was so nervous--didn't want to sound like a weird lady, who was desperate for a baby, but that's exactly how I felt. I was calm and tried to be as normal as I could while we talked and when I finally hung the phone up, I felt good about the conversation. We ended the conversation with plans for her to call us back in a few days. We even talked about going out to eat together and getting to know her more.
A few days went by, she never called. I did end up trying to call her but she didn't answer. I finally spoke with the grandmother at church and she told me the couple had decided to keep the baby and try to make things work between the two of them.
Hmmm....I was beginning to wonder just how much more I could take?!
Then--we hear of a girl in a town nearby, who knows Big Daddy's parents. She had a child already; little girl that was 18 months old. Mom was on drugs and would just leave the baby with anyone who would keep her. She was getting in the way of mom's partying, and she wouldn't be slowed down, so to speak. One day, this guy, "PEANUT" (yea, seriously) calls us and we discuss the adoption possibilities. Long story short, Peanut ended up keeping this precious little girl.
Then--a guy I went to school with was married and they had a child. They are both alcoholics and were in trouble with DSS because of it. He wanted me to take custody of his little girl, Hannah. We were so happy! He met with Big Daddy and myself at Subway and cried and was so happy that we would take her. He sent us home with a picture of her, and we couldn't show it off enough. Three days later, we found out that she had already been "taken" by DSS workers and any possibilities of adoption would literally take longer due to red tape and paperwork. So...again we prayed.
Finally, the janitor at my school had a niece who thought she was pregnant. The niece knew me already from being at school off and on with her aunt, our janitor. She was 17 years old and thought she had slipped up. She told me that there was no way she could keep a baby and that she was not going to have an abortion. I told her that if she wanted us to adopt it, we would. She hugged me and we both cried. We loved her and thought she was so pretty and she was so much fun to hang around. This was the most positive news and we just had the best feeling about this. I began telling everyone I knew, including my students at the time, that I thought we were going to get to be parents! They were excited and my friends and church family began praying again.
About 3 weeks later, she called and said she was NOT pregnant.
Again---devastation, heartache, misery, disappointment, sadness, etc.
Can you imagine how bad this hurt again? How many times would God put us through this? Just how strong did He think we were? I don't know how I'm going to make it through anything else....
Now; Part III tomorrow!
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