So, yeah, here we go again!

I have attempted to write a blog a couple of times now, but nothing that I would ever consider letting anyone (other than my sister) read; but I just can't seem to keep it going.

I used to love writing, used to write all the time--poems, short stories--and it used to be so easy. You would think that it would be easier for me, now that I have four little 'subjects' to draw from. I guess in order to understand why it hasn't been, I should start at the beginning.

My husband and I were married in October 1998. We tried to have children, but didn't seem to be having any luck. Finally, after pursuing what we could 'afford' (which was not much) to deal with our infertility, we found out that we were pregnant, 4 weeks along... fast forward 4 weeks, June 2001, we had a miscarriage. It didn't look like we were going to be able to get pregnant again; it was a difficult and emotionally draining time, especially as we watched friends and family members welcoming little bundles of joy into their hearts and homes. A friend encouraged us to consider being foster/adoptive parents, which we struggled with, not knowing if we could open our hearts to a child and then have to say goodbye to them. This same 'friend' also felt it her duty to inform me that the baby I lost might be the only one I would ever conceive. LOVELY.

On January 15, 2003, my husband and I began the Foster Parent MAP training program, and we were officially licensed for 2 children, ages 0-2, in our little 2-bedroom cape cod home by March. We were so excited (and nervous), as we waited for the little ones to start showing up at our door, having been assured that there were MANY such children needing homes. WHERE WERE THEY ALL? That Fall, we had 3 siblings with us for 5 days, and then nothing. February 2004, while at a book club at a friend's house, my husband called to tell me to come home; a baby was on his way! By 1 p.m. that day, I had a 2-wk. old baby in my arms. Baby #1 of our 'allowed' 2 was here!

Boy, does God have a sense of humour, however. Two weeks later, we got another call. Three little ones--a baby girl and her 2 brothers needed a home... FAST. I explained to the caseworker that we were only licensed for 2 and already had 1, and she asked if she could tell me about these kids. Oh boy. They were already half freed for adoption; they were 14 mths, 2 1/2 and 3 1/2 years old; and are you ready for their names? You're going to love this: Faith (14 mths), Noah (2 1/2) and Nathanial (3 1/2)... all Christian names. Needless to say, I told her that if she could work it out, we would take them. She worked it out. Three days later, March 8, 2004, we had 4 children, all under the age of 4, in our tiny, 2-bedroom house. And we couldn't have been happier.

One of these days, perhaps on my next blog, I will tell you just how God had perfectly planned these children in our lives, as their very births paralleled events in our life. INCREDIBLE!

Eleven months later, the baby boy left us to go live with his Grandma. We thought our hearts would break. Five months after that, we found out our kids were finally free for adoption and we could begin our paperwork; four months after that... we found out I was pregnant! You could almost hear God chuckling. June 4, 2006, we sat in family court as a judge gave our children their new names--Faith Rose (hers stayed the same, the boy's middle names were changed), Noah Russell (my husband's middle name), and Nathanial David (my Dad's name). In July, Samuel was born, and we gave him my father-in-law's middle name, Edward; my little Sammy who, bless his heart, is concerned about the world ending, but is standing beside me now, assuring me that between God and 'Fiderman' (Spiderman, for those of us who can pronounce our sp's), Satan will surely be defeated.

So that's me. Well, it's a big part of who I am these days, anyhow. So I guess this blog is going to be about my day to day, which I can't necessarily promise will be exciting, but if nothing else, might prove to be a little cathartic for me, in the land of little people where adult conversation can be sparse.