Four Minutes Past Midnight

This is probably a ridiculous time to foray into the world of blogging. I meant to start yesterday at a reasonable time and after some research. But yesterday snuck up on me, covered my head with a pillowcase, and slipped out of the door. I started this blog to track my experience as I entered the foster care system as an adoptive mother. I wanted to share the journey. From the research I have already done, there is not a lot of adoption information written from the African American adoptive parent perspective. From the research I have already done, most of the foster care information is either painfully clincial or grisy horror stories.

Mostly I am writing as just a way to share my story, to vent and to reflect.

After months of reading and researching and receiving brochures from many different agencies, my husband Kevin and I went to our orientation meeting for Prospective Foster Parents at a local family services agency. We nibbled on pretzels while the pleasant but weary social worker spelled out the details of the foster care system. Most of the other prospective foster parents were older than me and my husband. Most were already informally caring for relative's children. I fazed in and out of the social worker's worn commentary because I had heard a lot of the information before when we adopted our son and also because I was too excited and too nervous to really retain anything.
All I could really thing about was that this was the beginning. This was the beginning. It could be the beginning of adding a new member to our family or it could be the beginning of a lot of heartache. But it is definitely the beginning .