August 23 started like any other day. Isabelle got ready for work and took the baby to her mom’s who was watching him during the day so I could sleep and get stuff done while still on parental leave from work. I got the older kiddo ready for school and told Isabelle how she didn’t turn her electric toothbrush on after going on about how much she wanted to use it instead of a non-electric one. Isabelle and I were still navigating all the appointments as she asked for the baby’s Medicaid number to set up a time for First Steps, and I called the Y as the older kiddo was off the waitlist and could start afterschool care just after Labor Day.

I was relatively caught up on all the chores needed done so I finally did some self-care and looked up exercises to do for trendelenburg gait, most commonly in elderly people but Isabelle diagnosed me months prior. I was over halfway through and feeling good for making the effort and hoping I’d keep it up consistently. I had a few exercises left when Isabelle texted “holy shit.” I waited a bit anticipating a screenshot to accompany the message. No further text came through so I checked my inbox. A message from our family case manager (FCM) with DCS said that a kinship placement had stepped forward and the kids would leave our house when she returned from vacation in a few weeks. Initially I was numb as I was still lying on the ground for the last few exercises I had but after the numbness subsided and I grabbed my phone to text someone the news, I cried instead.

I texted my mom, a few family members crucial to the past few months, and a couple friends. After initial responses, I didn’t text much as the day passed. I picked up the kiddo from school and when Isabelle got home, I held the baby while the older kiddo had her after-school snack. She recapped her school day like she typically did while I cried again in the living room, holding the snuggly and sleeping baby. Reality started settling in as Sept. 9 became our expiration date with the kids.

Isabelle told me later when she got home that the kids were going to a family friend of the bio parent. Is it terrible that we thought there was a chance they would come back to us someday? As much as we wanted the kids to thrive in whatever setting they’re in, we also weren’t ready to say goodbye. Just a few days before finding out about the transition, Isabelle’s stepmom asked if the kids would be around for Christmas. It was nearly certain by that point they would be with us until the bio parents completed treatment and that would be 12 months after starting the service. That was the latest for many weeks as our DCS FCM had just visited on Aug. 16 and she didn’t share any other updates. But now we knew this kinship placement was in the process without our knowledge.

Having this major news and not telling many people was a weird balancing act. Since the expected transition date was over two weeks away, there was not a rush to tell others the inevitable. And there was still a chance the home study for the kinship placement could fail which is why we were instructed not to tell the kiddo until Sept. 8, or one day before they would leave. Ironically we were fortunate that our FCM was going on vacation and gave us 2+ weeks as kinship placements commonly mean transferring the kids in a matter of days or even hours.

I barely slept the night after finding out the news. I was very sad about the whole ordeal but my anxiety also ramped up as I fretted how we’d navigate this sudden disruption and the sadness and grief to follow. After school drop-off the next day I did come home to sleep a couple hours. The kiddo had a pearl bracelet and rainbow necklace that had gone missing recently so I spent most of the day cleaning her room and searching the rest of the house. I barely texted anyone as the chores kept me busy.

Isabelle texted that day to say the First Steps appointment would be on her birthday. She already had the day requested off for us to do something together. It seemed just our luck that her birthday would be yet another reminder that the kids would leave soon. She wanted to attend the appointment so considering we were pushed for availability, she made the appointment for then.

On Thursday our agency’s case worker came for a visit. Isabelle was late coming home from her mom’s from picking up the baby after work. She usually texts me if she expects to be late. I talked to the case worker as she cautiously navigated the “how are you doing with everything?” spiel. Isabelle got home about 25 minutes late and when the case worker asked her, Isabelle replied, “Well, I just cried at my mom’s for 20 minutes.” Then the case worker went upstairs to play with the kiddo.

I checked my email and saw that someone at our agency emailed us hours earlier that she found out our placement was leaving soon and requested if we were open to another placement. I told Isabelle and we were perplexed how our case worker knew nothing more than what we had told her about the placement move but someone else was already emailing us about knowing. The confusion turned to anger as Isabelle and I decided from the start that whenever these kids left, we would take a break before the next placement. When our case worker came back down, I asked her to take a message back to the office with her: We didn’t want to receive any emails about potential placements until we approached and said we are ready again. She reassured us that we should take as much time as we need and to not feel any pressure to say yes to something of which we weren’t 100% certain.

Earlier in the week Isabelle made plans to go to a bar on Thursday night. She was hesitant to go but it seemed like going would be better than staying home and wallowing with me. Another thing I’d be wrong about. The baby always seemed to know when one of us would go out because those were when he would fight sleep the most. The little guy gave me hell for over an hour but eventually he fell asleep and stayed asleep. Isabelle had awful service so we couldn’t text while she was gone. She came home and said she cried multiple times at the bar and that we couldn’t go out to bars anymore.

I slept a little better that night but telling our extended families loomed overhead. I decided to rip off the bandage and message both families on Friday morning. I had therapy that morning too and decided to go in blind instead of tipping off my therapist about the latest news. On the drive there, the FCM texted again and my heart sank further. “If I move the kids on the 6th, what time would work best?” We had limited time left with them and now we will potentially have three fewer days.