After the years of planning, the months of constantly emailing and reminding people that we are here, trying to help, we finally got licensed. I was so excited I actually sobbed. I’ve never cried that hard from being overjoyed before. When I called Rush to tell him he just kept saying “it’s okay” and later admitted he doesn’t know what to tell people when they cry because they’re happy. From what we understood, it was going to be a while before we got a real placement so I was not tied to my phone.
But then, on my second day of bed rest due to The Most Heinous Stomach Bug Ever, I got a call from that familiar number. Rush had come home early to care for his sickly wife so it was a strange moment of the two of us to being together at 1:56 on a Wednesday. I showed Rush the caller ID and answered it on speaker. Can we take some kids? My heart was pounding. Three boys? We had said no more than 2 for our first placement but I don’t care, this is all I’ve been dreaming of! Ages 12, 13, 16? We’ve always said we would take no children older than our marriage, so 7 and under at the moment, but whatever, yes, yes, yes! They gave us as many details as they had and said they’d call back in 20 minutes after we had time to discuss. Rush was level headed. I was not. We talked it out and made the right decision for everyone involved.
We did the right thing. I know we did. But I haven’t stopped thinking about those kids since. Where are they? Did they have to be separated? Is the family who said yes as excited to have children as we are? Would they have liked our pets? And their rooms? Would they have been happier with us? We did the right thing. We aren’t ready to be the parents of a person who can drive.
Still.
