she loved him...

He's sleeping in my arms. 
His warm body snuggled up close. 
His heavy breathing is the only sound. 
I love my boy more than words can express. 
And the deeper I fall in love, the more I think about his birth mom.

Maybe it's because as he gets older and his personality really emerges I wonder - Does he get his dimple from her? Or his amazing sense of humor? Is she as outgoing as he is? Does her smile light up a room like his does? I find myself loving a woman I may never meet because I love the son she carried in her womb. The son she chose to give life to - she didn't have to, but she did and I love her for that. 

Maybe I think about her because I am grieving her loss - and his. It breaks my heart that he will someday know the broken parts of his story. My heart aches to think of the day he comprehends the details of his past. As a mom, I want to protect him from being hurt - protect him from the feelings and questions that will likely come. I long to find ways to speak of his birth mom with grace. To honor her even while speaking the truth about how he came to be a DeCarlo. 

Just recently I discovered that during the two and a half months Levi was with his birth mom she took him to the hospital - twice. I requested the records and though they say very little, they speak volumes. They speak of a young, concerned mother who took her newborn son to the E.R. because he was sick. She loved him. I can tell him without hesitation - "your momma loves you. She wanted you. She tried her very best to take care of you." I was overwhelmed by emotion when I realized how sweet the Lord was to give me this glimpse into his time with her and of her care for him. 
Thank you, Jesus! You are so good!

I may never know if his dimple comes from her. But I do know that she loved him. And for that, I love her even more. 

follow You into the homes of the broken....

I've been thinking a lot about the parents of our first foster placement. They were a young, unmarried couple. They looked a little rough, but they were not what we were told to expect. In all of our trainings we were told to be prepared for angry parents, absent parents, parents who were under the influence, or parents who were just kids themselves. We were encouraged to be kind and respectful. We were reminded of the opportunity we had to be Jesus to these parents. In theory it all sounded good, but I wasn't sure what it would look like in reality. 

Two days after picking our little guy up at the hospital, I walked into the visitation center - alone. I was shaking and clinging to the little one asleep on my shoulder, under a blanket to keep him out of the rain. My stomach was in knots. I worried that they would want me to give them their baby before a social worker was there to supervise. I worried that I wouldn't be strong enough to tell them no. I worried that they would be angry and hostile towards me. Instead, I was met by two grieving and broken parents. His mom approached me with tears in her eyes and said, "Is that him?" as she gently pulled the blanket back. The moment she saw his face she began to weep. My heart broke and I instantly felt love and compassion for her. We sat in the waiting area for 15 minutes before a social worker showed up. They stroked the baby's head as we talked - but never once did they ask to hold him. I appreciated their respect for the situation. They asked me how he was sleeping and eating. They cried as they told me how their children came into care. It was then that I knew that we were going to walk the journey of reunification with this family. 

When I came back two hours later to pick him up from the visit, his dad shook my hand, looked me in the eye, and thanked me. He hung his head as he apologized for not rinsing out the baby's bottle when he was done eating. At following visits they brought me clothes, diapers, and a toothbrush for their daughter. They came to the visits with toys and books in a backpack. They showed up early for every visit. And when the visit was done, they would walk me to my car and we'd stand in the parking lot chatting. I was not afraid of them. They were not angry. They did everything they had to to get their kids back. They were not what I expected.

Their children were in foster care a total of 11 months. But, they are home now. They have since had a third child. Three babies in under 4 years. And yet, they are doing it. They are parenting their children - and doing it well. 

Last week I ran into their mom at the store. We talked about the kids while my oldest played in the aisles with their oldest. Their newest little guy is just a year old - he is chronically sick with allergies. His mom shared with me how nervous she is every time she takes him to the doctor. She's afraid they'll be accused of wrongdoing again. She's afraid to take him to children's hospital because it was there that they were turned in for abuse  (which was never substantiated - and all charges were eventually dropped). But, she sets her fears aside and for the good of her baby, she takes him in again to get the treatment he needs. Her life is forever altered by their experience with social services. Her heart and mind are forever scarred by being accused of abusing her newborn baby. 

When I think about the forgotten in the foster care community its easy to forget about the biological parents. Certainly not every parent is like these parents - but every parent needs to know the unconditional love of Jesus. Every parent needs to be treated with kindness and respect. Here in Bakersfield, The Forgotten Initiative has been asked to recruit and train mentors for biological parents who have been reunified with their children. What an amazing opportunity to be light in the darkness. What an amazing way to live out the words of the song by Leeland -  "Follow You". 

"Use my hands, use my feet to make Your kingdom come!"  
"On the cross Your blood was shed, so how could we not give it away so freely?" 
"I'll follow You into the homes of the broken, follow You into the world."
"I give all myself to You..." 

impromptu photo session

The other day I realized every picture I have of Levi is on my phone and not the best quality - 

so, we headed outside for an impromptu photo shoot.

My camera is a simple point and shoot - but I still think these photos are precious. 

I love how they show the many faces of our little man! 

Oh, how I love this boy! Such a treasure! 

two years ago....

Two years ago today our house was a little emptier. We had just lost our first foster placement - a sibling set. Our baby boy was just six weeks old when he came to us. A few short weeks later, his two year old sister joined our home. I thought I knew what I was doing. I had been a parent before - 3 times before actually. I really thought I knew what I was doing. 

Those first few weeks were overwhelming. Everything normal went out the window as we opened our home not only to these little ones, but also to social workers, their birth parents, and a whole host of medical appointments. I was not prepared for how emotionally drained I would feel - all day. I was not prepared to feel so "mama bear" about our little guy's doctor's visit that went so wrong. I was not prepared to feel so much love for their parents. I was not prepared to find myself praying for their reunification - when our hope was initially adopting. I was not prepared. 

And then, just seven short (I can say "short" now, but at the time the weeks felt very "long") weeks later, I packed up their stuff and they left. I wrote a little note to each of them and prayed over the boxes of stuff as I prepared to drive them to their new home. And I was happy and relieved and sad all at the same time. I was happy for them because they were going to a relative's. I was relieved because our house was quiet again. I was sad because I wish I had done it better. I wish I hadn't felt so weary and overwhelmed. I wish I had loved them harder. I was happy because we were able to walk through the reunification process with their parents and see a broken family restored. 

Two years ago today we took a trip - just us - to regroup and prepare for the next little one the Lord would bring to our home. Little did we know then that we would wait only 19 days before we would get to meet our next placement. We didn't know on February 5, 2011 that our son was being loved by an amazing foster family until he came to us. Our house was quiet, and we enjoyed it - but we were so ready to meet our son! 

And now we find ourselves a little too comfortable again. Levi has been with us for nearly 2 years now, He is a typical two year old boy. He's busy and loud and crazy. He's also funny and smart and a total love bug! We are all still totally smitten. And while I haven't forgotten the potential craziness that opening your heart and home to a foster child can bring, I want it. I want our home full of loud, busy, sweet, and broken babes who need to be loved fiercely by Jesus through me. 

Last night we went to the adoption support group hosted by our foster agency. I love being there with other foster/adoptive families who understand - sometimes without a word. I love that friends can say, "we're going on the open bed list" and the rest of the group cheers, knowing that another little one will be safe and loved. I love that another mama can share her real feelings of doubt and inadequacy and we all understand cause we've all been there too. I love this crazy world we're in. So, today I say, "bring on the craziness, Lord." Our house wasn't meant to be quiet. Our lives weren't meant to be comfortable. A few weeks ago our pastor said this from the pulpit (it continues to cross my mind and still strikes my heart today), "Tiredness and inconvenience are not longer excuses not to serve. When we demand that our lives and our service are "comfortable" and on our timeline, we miss the miracles of God." 

I don't want to miss His miracles. 

Bring on the craziness, Lord!