On Tuesday I wrote a letter to the Foster Mother of the little girl we will now refer to as "KK".
I introduced myself and tried, in just a few words, to explain why a complete stranger was writing to her.
Then I waited.
I'd already tried to contact her through Facebook, but received no response.
So, I waited.
Today, my phone rang at 10:41 am. It was an unfamiliar number. Work or no, I took the call.
Foster Mom was on the other end. Once she determined that I was indeed the infamous Annie who had written her a letter, she cried.
And cried, and cried, and cried.
I finally said, "Oh honey! Why are you crying? Is it bad news?"
Then she told her story. It was the story of two little girls, not just one, who had come to live with them seven months ago. She told me how wonderful and lovable and sweet and endearing these two little girls are. Foster Mom explained how they haven't been destroyed and abused by the system. They don't steal, they don't hoard, they don't lie. She told me how she and her husband had been praying so urgently for just the right family for them.
And then she cried some more.
And so did I.
We'll be meeting with them in the coming week; just Foster Mom and Foster Dad and us. KK and her little sister, Pickles, won't be brought into the mix until we are all sure that it's what's best for them. We refuse to add one stitch of heartbreak to these two sweethearts.
We are excited and scared. We have so many questions.
After the call from Foster Mom, I called my Beloved.
I said, "How do you feel about being a daddy to two girls...or maybe three?"
He laughed and said, "Why not".
Oh, how I love this man!