Road to Adoption

I had the best mother in the world, so naturally, all I ever wanted to be was a mom like the one I had. So, my husband and I looked at adoption since I couldn't have children of my own.  We checked into many different adoption agencies around the Colorado Springs area and finally went with Catholic Charities.

We started the intense process of foster to adopt and went through the home study where we had to bare the most intimate details of our lives, attend all the classes, and pass our CPR class.  We read every book we could get our hands on.  Finally we were certified.

Our portfolio was done and we were eager and ready to see what lay ahead of us.  One day I got the call I had been waiting for.  We had been selected as prospective adoptive parents by the birth mother.  We were very excited and eager to meet the birth mother and her boyfriend.  As the days led up to that meeting date, it was hard to contain the excitement that we shared at the possibility of finally having a baby in our home in the near future.

What happened next?  I'm really not sure.  I got a phone call just an hour or so before that anticipated meeting time that we didn't need to come.  Complete devastation.  Disappointment doesn't even begin to describe the feelings that we experienced.  Had she changed her mind and was no longer placing the baby up for adoption?  Or had she found someone else to place her baby with?

It was quite awhile later before we got the answers to our questions. Apparently, over the weekend, the birth mother and her boyfriend had run into some long time friends and after a lengthy discussion, decided that they really wanted to place the baby with these friends.  Thus, the phone call to us letting us know that we no longer needed to meet.

While this was a very disappointing time in our life, I'm still a firm believer that things ALWAYS work out the way they are supposed to.  And so, for whatever reason, that little baby boy or girl was not meant to be loved and raised by us. It was almost as if I could hear my own mother whispering in my ear, "In God's time, Jari, in God's time."  Easier said than done by a most impatient person such as myself.

Thus, we continued the wait...and the wait...and the wait...until one day, we talked to some good friends of ours about the foster-to-adopt program that they had gone through with Colorado Family Services in Lakewood, Colorado.  They put us in touch with the director there, and thus, we started part two of our road to adoption.

Home Is Where the Heart Is

Home Is Where the Heart Is

            There is a saying by Naval Captain Pliny the Elder, “Home is where the heart is…”, but what if your heart is in several places?  Are all of those places home?  I tend to believe so because home is with the people you love presently, but can also be where you grew up and where your childhood friends are.  We always tend to remember our childhood home and the memories that helped to shape us into what we are today.

            A piece of my heart calls Ulysses, Kansas, home.  This is the small rural, out in the middle of nowhere town in the very southwestern corner of Kansas where I was born and raised.  It’s where I went through 13 years (K-12) of school with most of the same friends.  It’s the place and people that helped shape and mold me into who I am today.

            It’s the place where you could ride your bike clear across town and your parents didn’t worry.  It’s where we made our own fun and let our imaginations rule by playing outside until it was dark, and it was way before the days of cell phones, video games, and the Internet.

            It’s where I met my most cherished, best, and lifelong friend in the whole world.  It’s where I decided I wanted to be a teacher because of the influence of the teachers in my life. 

It’s where once a Ulysses Tiger, always a Ulysses Tiger.  It’s where you chant, “We’re from Ulysses couldn’t be prouder.  If you can’t hear us, we’ll yell a little louder,” and “Give me a T…give me an I…give me a G…give me an E…give me an R…give me an S.  What’s that spell?  TIGERS!”  With those chants comes the sense of pride that only growing up in that small rural community can give.

            It’s where I epically failed to ever learn to drive a stick shift, but learned to drive an automatic on muddy, dirt roads with wheat, milo, or corn growing on either side of the ditch.  It’s where I spent quality time riding in the tandem truck with my dad and brothers on a cold Saturday in October during sugar beet harvest.  I didn’t see them often during harvest time so it was a treat for me to ride with them to the dump to unload the sugar beets.  It’s where I attended church every Sunday with my family… and friends that became family.

            It’s where I always returned after spreading my wings and leaving the nest.  It’s where I still return to because I have family there and my parents and oldest brother are buried there.  It’s where a piece of my heart is and always will be.  It’s HOME!