On Wednesday, the worker called me and asked if I was sitting down. Naturally, I assumed that something terrible had happened, which was only partly true: The baby's dad had called her to tell her he wanted a visit. He assured her that he had the empty tubes to prove he'd been treated and that he had treated his house and everything.
Complication: I shouldn't use the treatment cream now, because I'm pregnant. So if the baby gets reinfected, we all get reinfected and my unborn baby is at risk. This is not okay. The worker went through the entire checklist with the dad twice, and he solemnly assured her that he had done everything he needed to do. The worker has had it independently confirmed that his house has been at least minimally cleaned, because it looks like he's getting custody of his other two kids, but the worker is required to take his word for it. Ugh. So she had to let the visit happen. Naturally, since the baby hasn't seen him since March, she had no clue who he was and cried so hard she barfed up half of her bottle, so that's fun to hear. Our solution for dealing with reinfection is that Andy has been 100% in charge of the baby's care since Wednesday. This has sucked a little for all of us, because I can't even snuggle my baby, and because I'm pretty sure Andy thinks it's somehow way more work when he does it than when I do it, and because the baby's fussing for me a lot. Cool. If she makes it till tomorrow without any symptoms of a reinfection, we'll say she's okay, but I don't want to take a chance.
Also, this is the second thing the dad's showed up for this month, which is kind of amazing. The worker said he seemed sort of intent on "getting all [his] kids" and is still talking about moving to a very small suburban town. The worker did remind me, however, that since the dad hasn't been around we have no idea how long he's been "planning" this move, and that he could have been talking about this since February, in which case yeah right it's probably not real. I have a really hard time not jumping to conclusions, of course, so I'm worried that this dude who has never raised a baby and who lives with his mom is suddenly going to be living in the middle of nowhere with no support system and his older kids (both of whom I've been told are a handful) and a baby who doesn't know him, and that he'll be too proud to ask for help.
On a positive note: We changed WIC offices and it was like a different world. The people we dealt with were efficient and helpful and made me an appointment two months out instead of in three weeks like the old place always tried to do. They even offered to cancel my standing appointment with the old place. By the time we were done, I had had them switch me in the computer to make their office my main one and have my records transferred. They also told me that our old office managed to lose their own blueprints during their recent remodel, so that was fun.
So now it's Friday and the Olympics start today and I'm totally excited, unironically. I'm planning to watch as much as I can and to knit the whole time. My goal is actually to make a dent in the sweater I started for my mom for Christmas, and to finish the little lovey blanket I'm knitting for my three-month-old niece. We'll see how that goes with a seven-month-old who has recently discovered that she's self-propelled.
Foster parents: how do you deal with visits? Are they rough for you, or are you used to them? Non-foster-parents: Are you geeking out about the Olympics? Any favorites?