Skip to main content

Some space

It's been so long since I've felt a deep desire to write. I'm not sure where to begin. I'm about 15 weeks pregnant now. Next week I'll find out the gender and I'll rush home and bake a cake so I can surprise the kids.

When we told J we were pregnant again he was not happy. It was difficult for him to express why he wasn't happy. At first it was because he didn't like to see people fail at things (assuming we'd probably have another miscarriage and get hurt again) and then it was something only a foster child could understand (being replaced). Eventually it seemed OK. Then we went through a rough patch for a few weeks.

It seemed like everything I said he would react to. Even hello was met with annoyance. He was overly rude to me. We've talked about it and we've discussed the reasoning behind it, the being pushed away--but it hasn't stopped. There's just this awkward space between him and me. He's not purposely trying to be rude or create this space but it's just there. I'm not sure how to let it go.

The good news is his relationship with Brendon has improved by leaps and bounds. They can talk through just about anything these days. I love that.

I'm not sure if J is avoiding the awkwardness or just being a teenager but he's hardly ever home and when he is home he's locked in his room so we don't see him. We sent him away to summer camp last week. He didn't hug me goodbye or hello when we picked him up. He was gone for an entire week.

He had an amazing time at the camp and I am thrilled. I expected to feel some relief when I dropped him off. I know where he is, he's safe, he's cared for, and he's not going anywhere. I didn't have to worry about him for a full week. But I just felt sad. I think because I knew by the way he said goodbye he wouldn't miss us at all. And that hurts. Sometimes it feels like it could be over in an instant and none of it would have ever mattered. I know that's a common foster parenting struggle. You have to have this blind hope that what you're doing is worth something. Cause the reward is not happening now. Maybe we'll see it in 10 years. Maybe.

I stress because 18 is coming way too quickly and I want so badly for him to feel like he belongs before then. Belongs anywhere. If not with us, then somewhere. At a job. At school. In a good group of friends. Somewhere he can feel confident in himself and at the same time add value to the world. I feel like he could add value to our family if he wanted to but sometimes I feel like he's wasting his time because he doesn't want to be a part of our family. I'm OK with that choice but my heart aches for him.

While he was away at camp we took the girls to St. George. The weather was hot but the scenery was beautiful and 3 days flew by way too quickly. We stopped at the Grand Canyon on our way there and saw buffalo. When we were there we went to a Pioneer Day parade, the children's museum, Quail Creek Lake, Cedar City's Park Discovery, and of course the splash pad. We ate ice cream multiple ties a day. We tried fishing one evening but could only get one pole to work and then our bait kept falling off. We used cheese. I caught something but no one else did.

It was a good trip. As usual we talked about all the things we could do if we moved there someday. We always talk about moving but the reality is I don't know what we'd do if we didn't have so much family around to watch our kids and keep us sane. We are so blessed to belong.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Work stuff

 My job is difficult to describe to people outside of non-profits so I usually don't. I say I'm a Grant Writer--because I am, but to some people that means a lot and to others it means nothing. I don't get too many people who are interested. To be truthful, I do think grant writing is a spectacular professional that takes a lot of skill. Not only do you have to be an excellent writer, able to tell the stories of the organization in a way that is interesting and inspiring, but you also have to be savvy enough to find your way around hundreds of different online portals (none of which are user friendly) and be diligent enough to meet strict deadlines and compile loads and loads of paperwork. At my organization we submit about 15-30 applications every month and every single application has different requirements and expectations in order to receive funding. The work doesn't stop when an application is turned in. Once we get that funding it adds another to-do to our list, m...

I did it!

Today, I achieved a great professional achievement. I got my CFRE. It’s a big deal.  Brendon is out of town so I took the girls to get sushi to celebrate. This was our conversation on the way home.  *Passed by a Husband and Wife Law Team billboard Eisley: That dude wears suspenders. I would not call them first. I would call Jonathan first.  Me: I would call Brother Briggs first because he’s a criminal defense lawyer. Jon does HOA law which would not be very useful. Eisley: Ooo yeah. I feel like I’m going to be that kid some day. I’d call Brittany because she has experience, then Bro Briggs.  Me: You’re going to be the one to call to hide a body?  Eisley: Yeah. I’ll probably already be hiding one. I feel like I’m the Brittany, Aspen is Brodie, Kaybree is Dad.  Kaybree: Hmmm, I’m not sure. Aspen—do you like girls? Aspen: What? Kaybree: Just, would you like to marry a girl one day? Aspen: No.  Eisley: If you did, we would love her.  And then we all l...

Tearful moments

In January I cried through my appointments with my oncology doctor and surgeons. The whole idea of having a preventative mastectomy was overwhelming.  I made my peace with it. I made a plan for myself. Work slows down near the end of the year and we get all sorts of holidays so I thought if I could take my time off then, I would be fine. I made it through two whole doctor's appointments with no tears and no fear, because I had a plan, and then today that was messed up. My doctor told me reconstruction could take up to three months--which means I can't do the surgery when I originally planned if I want to get it all done in one calendar year (for insurance purposes). She suggested moving it up to August. That is next month. And if we do the surgery in August that means our family trip we have planned for October--it's a no. Camping trip I planned for September? Probably not. And honestly that all makes me more upset than anything. And suddenly I'm crying again.  I want t...