We decided a good after-breakfast activity would be to have Thorin explore the backyard with the help of a walker we brought from Sherry’s house. There was a concrete path that ran along one side of the triplex, across the back, and up the other side. Both ends had gates that opened to the sidewalk. He walked from one end of the path to the other more than once, which was good exercise and preparation for walking.
The following morning after breakfast, Thorin pushed his walker to the backdoor where he made the sign for help.
“Ow! Ow!” he said, pointing to the backyard.
Ward carried the walker down the steps while Thorin crawled down backward. The scraping sound from the walker brought Ella and Evvy out of their apartments to visit. After Thorin’s morning constitutional, they hoisted him up on the hammock, and the three of them swung back and forth. I felt comfortable enough to go inside and do the dishes.
A few minutes later, Evvy ran into our apartment.
“Thorin and I kissed each other!”
“Oh my!”
“I guess we’re getting married,” she said as she twirled around the kitchen.
“You know, I don’t think you have to go there yet.”
Shaking her head she replied, “If I marry him he has to stop wearing sweat pants and T-shirts all the time.”
I laughed, “Men in general don’t like to be told what they can and cannot wear.”
Crinkling her nose she said, “I think I should talk to my mom about this,” and ran out the door.
Hearing Thorin’s biggest obstacle as a marriage partner might be how he dressed was awesome, as in totally cool. As Evvy went flying down the back steps, Betty and Johannah arrived.
“We’re going to throw you guys a toddler shower,” Johannah told me as they walked in.
“Is that done?” I asked. “You know, in this kind of a situation?”
They both laughed.
“Won’t people think we’re angling for free stuff?”
“I hope so,” Betty said. “Set up a Target registry.”
Three days into our parenthood, the phone rang. It was Linda.
“Hey, I wanted to give you all a chance to settle in before I told you about some things that are coming up fast.”
She rattled them off like a grocery list:
•She would be visiting us once a month.
•Karen, Thorin’s GAL, would visit once a month.
•Thorin’s sister Jade, who lived in another foster home, wanted to see him.
•Thorin would have weekly visitation with his biological mother.
•A preschool had been chosen for Thorin, which he would start later that week.
As I was frantically writing it all down, I realized Linda had no idea what “settle in” meant. My immediate concern was the weekly visitation with his biological mother.
“I thought this was a low-risk adoption?”
“It’s still low risk,” she said. “But, his biological mother hasn’t lost her rights at this point. She’s entitled to see him. She’s also entitled to go to doctor appointments.”
“Does he see her alone?”
“No. The visits are at DHHS. They will be supervised by a caseworker. You’ll bring him and drop him off.”
We first heard about Jade a couple months before Thorin moved in. By all accounts, Jade was described as heroic. After Thorin was born, she often stayed home from school to make sure he was cared for and safe. She became more than his sister; she became his caregiver because the adults in the house weren’t capable. As Thorin’s health deteriorated, Jade realized she needed to get him help. On separate occasions, she notified a teacher and a staff person at the neighborhood police office about what was happening in her home. No help came. Finally, she went directly to the police station to report her family. She was ten years old.
Thorin was taken to the hospital where he recovered enough to return home. State mandates were created to keep families together, which is great if the parents get better at parenting. Back at home, his health started to decline again, and he was placed in protective custody.
For that first visit with his mother—Thorin had been with us only a week—I prepared him as best as I could. We had told him we were “Mom” and “Dad,” but did he know what that meant? We had no idea what he thought about the dramatic changes in his life.
“I’m taking you for a visit with your . . . biological . . . mom,” I said. “Sound good?”
No response from Thorin.
“It’s a short visit. It’ll be in an office. You’ve done this before, right?”
He sat on the couch, impassive.
“I’ll be there to take you home after, okay?” I added, “I’ll pick you up and bring you here. I’ll bring you home.”
Thorin hadn’t lived with his mother in almost a year and a half. I hoped he would take his cue from me, so I decided to project that this was not a big deal. That would be the message. I would lie.
I dressed him in a recently purchased outfit from Target I had earmarked for special occasions. I imagined it was something he would wear to meet new family: green khaki shorts, a yellow and green plaid short-sleeve button down shirt, and a khaki hat with a yellow stripe band. He looked adorable. I pulled him onto my lap and held him and gave him extra kisses before we left the house.
When I walked through the doors at DHHS, Glenda the Good Witch, whose name I learned to be Patty, waved us over.
“Hi, Kari! Hi, Thorin! Good to see you, little man!”
“Hi, Patty!” I looked around trying to figure out which of the women sitting in the waiting room was Thorin’s mother.
Patty shook her head. “She’s waiting for him back there,” motioning down the hall. “And this is Michael,” pointing to a man walking toward us. “He’ll supervise. Michael knows Thorin from other visits.”
Thorin almost jumped out of my arms to hug Michael, and off they went, just like that, with no backward glance at me for reassurance. I looked at Patty, who was staring at my chest.
