The summer came and went. We would visit almost every weekend and call every day. Sometimes we had overnights and sometimes just a Saturday. Several times I would take off on a Friday around noon, take a drive to Ma, pick her up and take the ferry home. Then, we would take her back on Sunday. Occasionally we brought E, my oldest biological daughter with sometimes not. We got season passes to six flags and would frequent Six Flags New England. We arranged a meeting with M’s biblical brother and sister and their pre adoptive family at Six Flags. They were nice people and we agreed to continue regular visits.
We started learning each other and a couple of times M had melt downs. Mostly it would happen when one of us reprimanded her. She would cover her head and face and just not talk at all. These melt downs were short and would usually be over when I hugged her. She always told us how much she loved us and she always wanted to hear that she was loved.
We constantly waited and hoped for M to be placed in our home before school started. Certainly that would be best for her and that’s what everyone wanted, right? What is best for the kid??
But, bureaucracy is bureaucracy and we had no power and no patience. M had no patience either. School started in Massachusetts and M was worried to go back. She confessed to us that she told her friends at school that she was moving to California and getting adopted. We convinced her to just own up to her lies and tell her friends the truth.
M also started having frustration and anxiety in her group home. She would act out. I guess she started feeling like a normal kid and resented being in this group home. The workers there accused her of feeling “superior” than everyone else. They said we were spoiling her. I argued that everyone deserves to be spoiled sometimes.
S and I didn’t really think much of the workers in the program. I’m sure some of them were good, but some of them were just jerks and we knew who they were. We heard the way they talked to her. Very oppressive and disrespectful. Once one of them commented (when she probably forgot or refused to wear deodorant) that “M likes to smell like burger king”. Once we heard one of them yelling at her when she was talking to us on the phone. It was really frustrating because we were beginning to feel like she was our kid and wanted to defend her, but we also didn’t want to make things worse for her while she was there. Every phone call, every night she would cry to us, “I want to get out of here” “get me out of here” and we would tell her to just be patient, be a good girl, etc. One day, we got the email. the Interstate compact was complete. We could take M home for good!
That night we could not wait to call. In fact, we called earlier than we were suppose to and called as soon as we got home from work. M knew something was up, because we usually called around 7:00. We told her “guess what? You are coming home this weekend for good!” She started crying and crying! It was one of our happiest memories.