Appointment Week

Saturday, March 5, 2011

Today and tomorrow I am gearing up for Appointment Week. I can almost forget that we're not a 'normal' family when it's not appointment week. I can't decide if having everything scheduled all at once is of benefit or makes things harder. There is something to be said for getting all the crappy stuff out of the way all at once. Monday will start us off with a therapy appointment. Which would normally be OK, but since we'll likely be talking about visitation on Tuesday, it'll just start the downward spiral. Then Tuesday morning, Baby R has a well-child check. I plan to use this opportunity to push them pretty hard about this rash that they're calling eczema. I'm just not convinced, but I don't feel like I can trust my instincts because I've never had brown skin nor parented a child with brown skin. However, do I really feel like the twenty-five year old white, childless nurse practitioner is infallible in her diagnosis? Not so much.

Then, Tuesday night, we'll have the visit. Hooray. I am exceedingly grateful that this was spread out a month from last time. The last week and a half have seemed positively normal. If we're going to have to do this, then a month apart is much preferable to every week. I plan to thank the caseworker for that this next week...and then I plan to ask her again to stop the visits entirely. She comes on Wednesday. I expect it to be like every other visit. No news.

Thursday is our team meeting. I'm really failing to see the point of these at this point. There's really nothing new. We 'gossip' about what people have heard about the birth family. We talk about how terrible visits are. We talk about our own lives. Nothing gets decided for the kids. I'm so eager for this to be over. It's such a dilemma right now because we know that this is absolutely the end, and yet, the end never comes. I'm starting to feel like even if they decide to remove Mr. B and Baby R from our home, I just want it to happen already. Of course, I don't really want that to happen, but I just want something to happen. I want to know something. Supposedly, the only obligation that we have left is a psychiatric eval on both kids, which we were told would happen at the beginning of January. Still haven't received a call.

I also expect to get a call from the CASA worker tomorrow morning asking when he can come out this week. He usually calls around this time. He usually leads with this kind of thing, "I'm not going to tell you what happened; I'm gonna let the caseworker tell you. But it's gonna blow your mind!" Then I'm left in a panic for the next hours/days until we find out what he's talking about. It's almost never bad, but it's just the way he says stuff. I love him. But I find this particular quirk to be slightly annoying.

So, that's appointment week. It will suck. It will suck big time, but then it will be done for another month, probably. Will we know something more after this week? After the past 11 months with this particular case, I can say with 99% certainty, absolutely not. We will be frustrated. We will hate the system. We will talk ourselves out of hating the system. We will feel crazy, especially once Tuesday hits and Mr. B starts the crazy fear/anxiety trauma stuff. We will cry and yell and laugh and yell and cry some more. It happens every time. But. It's worth it. Every bit of it. When Mr. B looks up at me from reading The Little Engine That Could and smiles (that book reads like this: choo, choo. choo, choo. Choo, Choo. CHOO. CHOO. CHOO. CHOO. It's pretty exciting)...when Baby R runs to get her jammies and binky because she just loves her bed, when she hugs me goodnight and calls me Mama...when Mr. B tells Maggie he loves her...when I see hope and kindness and depth of character developing in all of us, it's worth it. I hang onto that during appointment week. I need it. I need to remember that in spite of what the state says, in spite of the political correctness that we need to stick with, in spite of the law not being on our side (yet. we hope.), that God has made us a family. We're all in it together, one long week at a time.

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