Wednesday, February 1, 2012

Because Around Here We Love to Beat a Dead Horse

That is the grossest expression ever.  Sorry.  Matt was so nice to update last night, and he did a really good job of it.  I thought I would add my two cents worth.  It is the first day of a new month, and I am feeling the promise of a new beginning.  So with somewhat better spirits today I will add a few extra details.  For all of you who want even more details.  It's just you and me now, Mom!


Yesterday I was a MESS.  I could not stop crying.  At one point I even started laughing because I just could not get ahold of myself.  I called my sister crying.  I called my friend crying.  I texted some people crying.  I cried in the shower, in Target, at the gas station.  You get it.  I cried.


So I am on my way to pick Matt up at work so we can ride together to Topeka.  I was crying.  I was also speeding.  A police officer pulled me over.  He asked me where I was going.  I say, while crying HARD, "I'm so sorry I don't even know if I was speeding I'm sure I was if you pulled me over I'm trying to get my husband so we can go to the Supreme Court I mean the Kansas House of Representatives so we can testify about adoption because we lost our daughter and they want to hear from us about maybe changing some laws." All like that in one weepy sentence.  Pause. Pause. "What now, Ma'am?" I repeat most of that.  He looks bewildered and goes back to his motorcycle.  TO WRITE ME A TICKET.  If ever there was a time to let someone off the hook, might this be it?  No.


I'm late.  I get Matt.  There was a shoe issue that I am eliminating for time.  I am now crying and feeling a bit frantic.  Matt gets in the car and smiles his handsome smile at me and says, "don't worry about it, Mol.  Everything's fine." And just like that I stopped crying.  This is the chronicling of a bad day, but I tell you, somehow it is also our love story.  Matt is one good man.


We get there 7 minutes late which seems like a lot when you have less than 30 of them to get briefed by the lawyer in charge.  He then tells us that we should try to be concise so we don't lose the interest of the representatives.  That stings a bit because I would like to think that the story of how we lost our little girl which we have written down in a mere two and a half pages would not be so boring or mundane that people would check out.  None the less, we scratch parts out and make our changes to shave time off.





We were sitting in the audience on these pews white the representatives and their aides were around kind of a U shaped table with a table in the middle.  They heard some zoning deal first.  I was pretty surprised to see the unprofessionalism of some of the reps.  A lot of them were very attentive.  The committee chairman Lance Kinzer did a great job.  However, SO MANY of the representatives got up and left and came back a few minutes later with a bottle of water or a soda.  Several of them kept yawning.  One guy kept closing his eyes.  They were doing things on their phones... It was very odd.  And a bit disgusting.




Then it was our turn.


The lawyer presented the proposed changes.  Then we went up to the podium.  Matt did a fantastic job.  He hardly looked at our notes.  He spoke so articulately on all that had happened.  He was looking people in the eye, making connections.  He was great.  I stood there and bit my lip and sniffled.  Sometimes I nodded.  Really helpful stuff.




Then a couple who lost their two year old daughter in a situation very similar to our own spoke.  They had only lost her two months ago.  It was agonizing to hear the details of their story.  The dad stood there supporting the mom who spoke.  He cried the whole time.  There is something so very sad and tender about watching a man cry -- especially when he is grieving the loss of his little girl.  The two worst moments of the day in my book happened when this poor mama was talking.  First of all she said that they knew their little girl wouldn't stop crying for them and calling for them.  A social worker involved had told them that.  I can't stop picturing that now.  Except I know that it was Waverley, crying for us.  And I kind of want to die.  The second thing she said that broke my spirit was that there wasn't much case law to use to support their daughter being removed from their house until we lost.  That our case paved the way for the courts to take their daughter.  That feels like a huge and heavy burden to me.


The reps asked the lawyer some more questions.  I don't know that it went particularly well or particularly poorly.  It seemed evident that this will not be a smooth or easy process.  I would be shocked if the law was changed at all before the end of this session which was the goal.  I'm not sure when the session ends, but it's soon.  Honestly, it didn't feel super productive.  That might just be the way it works.  Slowly.  Not real efficiently.  Not nearly as effectively as one would hope.  As long as it is even remotely possible that it could be useful we will go to tell our story and ask for changes to be made.  What everyone does from there is out of our control.  That's what happened yesterday.


As for Harper, what she said specifically that made us laugh: "I see cars all of the time that I just think are so awesome.  Usually I see two cars at a time.  One after another that is really cool.  And I think to myself, 'when I grow up, the first one will be mine and the second one will be my husband's.'" Man.  That's good stuff.


Love,
Molly

6 comments:

Kelsey said...

I feel like I am having PTSD just reading this post, I can't imagine what those things felt like to you guys. From the image of Wavy crying for you, to the representatives yawning, closing their eyes, playing on their phones?! What!? (I just deleted a bunch of rambling rage that I had typed here of things I wanted to say and do to those disrespectful representatives...just use your imagination...grrrr)
I am so in awe of your courage and humility. I beg you to not hold onto any responsibility for the loss the other couple endured. It was not your failure, but the judges and courts, to protect Wavy and other children like her. I understand the grief, but I pray that you are released from that extra burden. I am praying that the wrong things will be made right and that the people who have the opportunity to effect change will feel the weight and burden of a child's life on their hearts and minds. Love you guys so much! oh, and that Harper! That girl is a riot. :)

Totschies said...

Molly,
Thank you for being willing to share - it helps us know how to pray. That complacency and apathy (or texting while someone is sharing their heart) will no longer be present, but for the Father's heart as these men and women make decisions!

Bethany said...

You guys are incredibly strong. It just astounds me. Thank you for sharing your process.

Jess said...

Oh Molly. I'm having a hard time taking breaths after that post. What you have endured, and what you continue to is beyond comprehension. You are being so courageous for those after you and one of the reasons you pursued keeping Waverly was to help those who followed. You deserve none of the blame or weight for what the other family has endured. You fought hard FOR them.

I'm continually impressed with how you (and Harper) can be so funny at the beginning and end of such a difficult post! I love your heart.

Jami Nato said...

it's hard to know what making a difference feels like when you're just trying to live through the moment.
but you really are. it's going to be hard and look weird. but it's making a difference.

and

i love that you are still fighting for your daughter. it looks different and you know the outcome isn't what you thought it would be. but i bet you'll never stop. you're such a good mom.

Stan, Dana, and Isaac said...

Molly... I have recently gotten to know Kelsey Kautzi through a mutual friend... And have actually heard about you guys and your story through 2 or 3 different people, Kelsey included, who are a part of the gathering.

My husband and I are beginning the process to adopt domestically right now...but from the end of 2008 to the end of 2010 we fostered a baby girl who we raised from 2 days old through 21 months. Wanted to adopt her... lost her to birth mom. Agonizingly painful. Thankfully, we do still see her...which has its own set of difficulties... Anyway, stumbled onto your blog tonight and just in reading this post the ache in my own heart comes back again. I just hurt for you guys and this journey you've been on, and for Waverly...precious girl. There just aren't words. Just wanted to say hi to you and let you know that I'm feeling for you guys. Great grace and peace to your family tonight...