Please do not ever tell the elementary school that I brought a puppy inside during the 5th grade graduation assembly. My own parents, in-laws and kids did not even know that I had a 24 hour old puppy inside my purse that horrific day in May of this past year.
Our beautiful Cavachon had just had a litter of puppies, just a week after we had told our foster daughter that we would not be her adoptive parents. To recap those in my family; it was my husband and myself, three girls (all the same grade level) and three boys. One boy and one girl we were just fostering. That girl had been living away from our home for nearly a year at that time because she needed additional supervision to remain safe and to heal from her past traumas. We continued to visit her frequently and would bring her to our home on pass for some weekends. We had just informed this girl that while we loved her, and did not anticipate going anywhere that we could not provide her what she needed long term and therefore would not be able to adopt her. Try sitting across from a child that has been traumatized in every way possible and bursting her bubble that much more. It was terrible. My heart has hurt ever since then. And we had tried to make things work for nearly a year. We made many interventions, prayed, continued visits and tried family therapy, but we did not believe we could manage her behaviors in our home and keep her and our other children safe.
So back to the puppy... our dog had just had a litter of puppies. Three girls and three boy puppies. Huh, just like my kids; three girls (all in 5th grade) and three boys. Wow God, are you trying to tell us something? Maybe the decision we made to let our foster daughter go was a mistake! The number of puppies and genders seemed more than coincidential.
Within a few hours after these puppies arrived, we realized something was wrong with one of them. One of the females did not look okay. She smelled different, she looked different and our mom dog was avoiding her. I LOVE my dogs and this was tragic enough that we had a sick pup, even more so was knowing that we had chosen to let go of our foster daughter. As challenging as our life had been with her at times, there was no doubt that we had a strong bond and we loved her. We had known her a year and a half and had sought her out to foster and then hopefully adopt. Shortly before the 5th grade graduation assembly for our three girls we were rushing around trying to care for this sick pup. We realized she was not able to nurse. She would latch on, but seemed to struggle to ingest anything. She was weak and felt flaccid.
My husband had run to the pharmacy to get formula, a dropper and a syringe so we could nurse this pup ourselves per the vet's instructions. My mom and my in-laws had come over just before we were to all go to the school. I was stressed to the max about this poor dog and so saddened that it kept gagging while we were trying to give it fluids. It couldn't swallow without aspirating. I was also stressing because I knew we wouldn't be able to get good seats for the graduation because it was just minutes away at this point. So I quite rudely told everyone to go to the school and I stayed back with the pup. Do I take this dog into the vet now but miss the graduation? Or do I just go and leave the dog and let it be? I quickly prioritized, but multi-tasked just as much. I didn't want to miss out on seeing my girls, so I wrapped this tiny puppy that could fit in the palm of my hand in a warm cloth and put her in my purse. I brought the formula filled syringe with me. I was going to continue to try to hydrate her during the assembly. I stood in the back and kept reaching my hand down inside my purse to keep her warm. I also snuck out to the bathroom in between seeing my girls and attempted to feed her and burp her. She continued to gag. I was a mess and shaking so badly and stressing that someone was going to hear her faint cries and report me! I returned back to the assembly after finally determining to stop feeding her and the next time I reached my hand my purse she was not moving or breathing any longer.
I now have a dead puppy in my purse. And I am at an elementary school 5th grade graduation in which I am seeing my three daughters move on from elementary to middle school. To set the stage even further, I had just gone to my preschool aged son's graduation that morning. An emotional day is immense understatement. Oh, and my husband and I had been bickering about the whole situation with the puppy and driving separately, etc. Moments later the ceremony ended and I numbly made my way to the stage to see the girls. I mumbled to my husband that the dog had died. The female puppy had died. We were letting go of our foster daughter. It was not meant to be. We had made our decision and now we had a representation of that decision from a litter of puppies.
My husband was unable to hear my news and just thought I was acting weird and rude. Clearly we were not on the same page. We had to check the girls out with their teacher before they could leave the stage. I told the teachers I would be taking two of them and then the tears starting flowing in the one we had to leave behind. Dagger. To. The. Heart. Why couldn't there been a hole - preferably warm and quiet - that I could have jumped in and buried myself. We asked for one of the behavioral interventionists to escort us to the library with our foster daughter that was in tears to make sure she would not escalate further. Our moments of sitting with her while my in-laws took the other kids back home did not seem to improve her mood. And why would it? I knew the kids would be getting home minutes before us and wondering where the missing puppy was. We left our foster daughter in best hands we could at the school and went home.
So we had lost this sweet pup, were saying goodbye to our foster daughter, and then had to tell our kids why there was a missing puppy. Was it a cloudy day outside? I don't know, but that would seem most appropriate.
The news of losing the puppy was sad, but it was a beautiful moment that God allowed to happen in our home as my husband shared the story of Jesus dying for our sins, just with the colossal difference that in Jesus' story He came back from the dead. As he dug up dirt in our backyard, he shared the good news of the gospel with our kids for the umpteenth time. All the kids made head stones for the puppy who we named Winnie. I cried about the puppy, but my heart was breaking much more about having to let go of my foster daughter.
That was eight months ago. Lot's has happened since then, maybe story for another day or a month or so because it would take that much time to explain all the back and forth of incidents, emotions, anger, frustration, counseling, therapy, medication, falling before Jesus, feeling numb, wanting to throw in the towel on fostering/adopting and so much more.
Here we are now. My foster daughter is ready to leave the place of 24/7 care and move back to a home. She has just days left before experiencing freedom she has not felt in over a year and a half. We have still continued to visit her and occasionally bring her to our home on passes. She still has an uphill battle and many demons to fight, but she has come such a long way and we are very proud of her.
Oh, and our dog had another litter of puppies 3 weeks ago.
Three boys and three girls.
Just with the puppies in our home, God has displayed a beautiful picture of death and resurrection as well as hope in second chances. While there is nothing magical about the puppies number and genders, I believe God uses things like this to reveal Himself and His glory. So, with clear direction from God, our foster daughter is moving back home. To our home. No matter what. Actually, my husband had not even thought about the representation of our family in the dogs, even though I did immediately. But how cool is that!
We informed all of the kids this past weekend of the new forever plan. Our foster daughter streamed tears of joy as she had no idea this was coming and had had major anxiety about her unknown future. Dang it, why did I not get it on video! Oh well. My husband and two of my kids were also crying, mind you one of them had been praying and had made wishes from birthday candles hoping the kids could be ours forever. While we were overjoyed, our foster son hid under the table and looked unphased. Emotion of any kind is difficult for him to handle, but especially big emotions.
Our family will be different than most. I have no choice but to run a tight ship with six kids in the house, three from trauma. But we are going to do it. The boy and girl we are fostering are available for adoption as their biological parent's are either deceased or their parental rights have been terminated. Using the words from a wise foster mom friend, they "still need a mom" and dad. And we plan to be just that for these kids. Forever.
McParty of eight for the long haul here we come! An adoption will hopefully occur this year with our foster daughter and her brother:)
Our beautiful Cavachon had just had a litter of puppies, just a week after we had told our foster daughter that we would not be her adoptive parents. To recap those in my family; it was my husband and myself, three girls (all the same grade level) and three boys. One boy and one girl we were just fostering. That girl had been living away from our home for nearly a year at that time because she needed additional supervision to remain safe and to heal from her past traumas. We continued to visit her frequently and would bring her to our home on pass for some weekends. We had just informed this girl that while we loved her, and did not anticipate going anywhere that we could not provide her what she needed long term and therefore would not be able to adopt her. Try sitting across from a child that has been traumatized in every way possible and bursting her bubble that much more. It was terrible. My heart has hurt ever since then. And we had tried to make things work for nearly a year. We made many interventions, prayed, continued visits and tried family therapy, but we did not believe we could manage her behaviors in our home and keep her and our other children safe.
So back to the puppy... our dog had just had a litter of puppies. Three girls and three boy puppies. Huh, just like my kids; three girls (all in 5th grade) and three boys. Wow God, are you trying to tell us something? Maybe the decision we made to let our foster daughter go was a mistake! The number of puppies and genders seemed more than coincidential.
Within a few hours after these puppies arrived, we realized something was wrong with one of them. One of the females did not look okay. She smelled different, she looked different and our mom dog was avoiding her. I LOVE my dogs and this was tragic enough that we had a sick pup, even more so was knowing that we had chosen to let go of our foster daughter. As challenging as our life had been with her at times, there was no doubt that we had a strong bond and we loved her. We had known her a year and a half and had sought her out to foster and then hopefully adopt. Shortly before the 5th grade graduation assembly for our three girls we were rushing around trying to care for this sick pup. We realized she was not able to nurse. She would latch on, but seemed to struggle to ingest anything. She was weak and felt flaccid.
My husband had run to the pharmacy to get formula, a dropper and a syringe so we could nurse this pup ourselves per the vet's instructions. My mom and my in-laws had come over just before we were to all go to the school. I was stressed to the max about this poor dog and so saddened that it kept gagging while we were trying to give it fluids. It couldn't swallow without aspirating. I was also stressing because I knew we wouldn't be able to get good seats for the graduation because it was just minutes away at this point. So I quite rudely told everyone to go to the school and I stayed back with the pup. Do I take this dog into the vet now but miss the graduation? Or do I just go and leave the dog and let it be? I quickly prioritized, but multi-tasked just as much. I didn't want to miss out on seeing my girls, so I wrapped this tiny puppy that could fit in the palm of my hand in a warm cloth and put her in my purse. I brought the formula filled syringe with me. I was going to continue to try to hydrate her during the assembly. I stood in the back and kept reaching my hand down inside my purse to keep her warm. I also snuck out to the bathroom in between seeing my girls and attempted to feed her and burp her. She continued to gag. I was a mess and shaking so badly and stressing that someone was going to hear her faint cries and report me! I returned back to the assembly after finally determining to stop feeding her and the next time I reached my hand my purse she was not moving or breathing any longer.
I now have a dead puppy in my purse. And I am at an elementary school 5th grade graduation in which I am seeing my three daughters move on from elementary to middle school. To set the stage even further, I had just gone to my preschool aged son's graduation that morning. An emotional day is immense understatement. Oh, and my husband and I had been bickering about the whole situation with the puppy and driving separately, etc. Moments later the ceremony ended and I numbly made my way to the stage to see the girls. I mumbled to my husband that the dog had died. The female puppy had died. We were letting go of our foster daughter. It was not meant to be. We had made our decision and now we had a representation of that decision from a litter of puppies.
My husband was unable to hear my news and just thought I was acting weird and rude. Clearly we were not on the same page. We had to check the girls out with their teacher before they could leave the stage. I told the teachers I would be taking two of them and then the tears starting flowing in the one we had to leave behind. Dagger. To. The. Heart. Why couldn't there been a hole - preferably warm and quiet - that I could have jumped in and buried myself. We asked for one of the behavioral interventionists to escort us to the library with our foster daughter that was in tears to make sure she would not escalate further. Our moments of sitting with her while my in-laws took the other kids back home did not seem to improve her mood. And why would it? I knew the kids would be getting home minutes before us and wondering where the missing puppy was. We left our foster daughter in best hands we could at the school and went home.
So we had lost this sweet pup, were saying goodbye to our foster daughter, and then had to tell our kids why there was a missing puppy. Was it a cloudy day outside? I don't know, but that would seem most appropriate.
The news of losing the puppy was sad, but it was a beautiful moment that God allowed to happen in our home as my husband shared the story of Jesus dying for our sins, just with the colossal difference that in Jesus' story He came back from the dead. As he dug up dirt in our backyard, he shared the good news of the gospel with our kids for the umpteenth time. All the kids made head stones for the puppy who we named Winnie. I cried about the puppy, but my heart was breaking much more about having to let go of my foster daughter.
That was eight months ago. Lot's has happened since then, maybe story for another day or a month or so because it would take that much time to explain all the back and forth of incidents, emotions, anger, frustration, counseling, therapy, medication, falling before Jesus, feeling numb, wanting to throw in the towel on fostering/adopting and so much more.
Here we are now. My foster daughter is ready to leave the place of 24/7 care and move back to a home. She has just days left before experiencing freedom she has not felt in over a year and a half. We have still continued to visit her and occasionally bring her to our home on passes. She still has an uphill battle and many demons to fight, but she has come such a long way and we are very proud of her.
Oh, and our dog had another litter of puppies 3 weeks ago.
Three boys and three girls.
Just with the puppies in our home, God has displayed a beautiful picture of death and resurrection as well as hope in second chances. While there is nothing magical about the puppies number and genders, I believe God uses things like this to reveal Himself and His glory. So, with clear direction from God, our foster daughter is moving back home. To our home. No matter what. Actually, my husband had not even thought about the representation of our family in the dogs, even though I did immediately. But how cool is that!
We informed all of the kids this past weekend of the new forever plan. Our foster daughter streamed tears of joy as she had no idea this was coming and had had major anxiety about her unknown future. Dang it, why did I not get it on video! Oh well. My husband and two of my kids were also crying, mind you one of them had been praying and had made wishes from birthday candles hoping the kids could be ours forever. While we were overjoyed, our foster son hid under the table and looked unphased. Emotion of any kind is difficult for him to handle, but especially big emotions.
Our family will be different than most. I have no choice but to run a tight ship with six kids in the house, three from trauma. But we are going to do it. The boy and girl we are fostering are available for adoption as their biological parent's are either deceased or their parental rights have been terminated. Using the words from a wise foster mom friend, they "still need a mom" and dad. And we plan to be just that for these kids. Forever.
McParty of eight for the long haul here we come! An adoption will hopefully occur this year with our foster daughter and her brother:)