I got an e-mail from the aunt. The birthmother checked herself into the psych ward of the hospital she gave birth in. She intends to stay there until there is a place available in a rehab that will take her and the baby together. I know that the caseworker said long ago that the mother said things that made the state feel a mother-child rehab wouldn't be allowed; but not knowing what those things were, I'm not sure how they will stand up and whether or not there is truly a possibility that this will happen.

The aunt spoke to the birthfather's brother--who said that his mother would take 20 children if she could. The father is not in the US, but is in another central american country with his grandmother--who is ill. Apparently he also has some business dealings there as well. He has a cell phone, but the country he is in has very limited signal/access. The brother will continue to try to contact the father and has the caseworker's info--and knows that the caseworker is bilingual.

I'm not attached to her yet; but I'm attached to the idea of another baby being part of our family. Thank goodness she's too young to interact with us yet. Thank GOD--because then it would be easy to actually bond and attach to her. We really adore her, but it's not like she's ours. Life works the way it should even when we don't understand: we're preparing for something better. We have to have faith. Matt and I really do. We're so much more at peace knowing that if it is supposed to be, it will be; and that if it is not, we're preparing for what's to come. There's a reason she is here with us... we just don't know what that reason is yet.

She had her first bath tonight. She didn't love it. We don't have any pictures of it, but to be fair, we don't have pictures of Graham's either. Matt was on the couch with a very sleepy Graham (who DID fall asleep) and I had my hands full keeping her safe in the water of the kitchen sink (where Graham had his first bath, too... I see now how easy it is to attach to a house!). Her little stomach was so upset and she'd been miserable for an hour. She barely ate at her last feeding and she had 3 little skidmark diapers. I had slacked off on her pear juice for the last two days. She's supposed to have it to fight off constipation from the prescription formula. So I thought a warm bath would help. Right before the bath, she passed a poopy diaper. I bathed her anyway. That's still 2 poops for the day--so if she was constipated, it wasn't that bad.

So Graham is sleeping and the baby is on Matt's shoulder. And I type... my therapy.