MARY CARROLL
Mary Carroll, Counting the things that count, Poem with each line written on a vinyl circle, with all the circles displayed in the shape of a string of beads (mala), 2024. **Poem listed below.
Image Description: 24 gold vinyl circles, each with a line of poetry written on it, hung in the shape of a circular string of beads, a mala. In the center hangs a bead string mala with the title of the poem, “Counting the things that count”, written on a gold vinyl label above the mala. ““Full poem listed below.
My spouse and I are queer foster parents living in the Pittsburgh area. The word “parent” has always been as much, if not more, of a verb than a noun to me. I have been blessed by the support of many amazing parents and supportive adults throughout my life. One of the biggest gifts they’ve given is their presence. This poem reflects the challenges of parenting, the burden on the executive functioning system and the rewards of staying present with our young people, so we can be whatever part of the web of support they need at that point in their life.
Counting the things that count
Minutes until the school van arrives
Hours until bedtime
Days until I have a day off to spend with you
Days, hours since you last read a message in our group chat, craving a small reassurance
Pounds, inches, teeth lost, teeth growing in
Doctor’s appointments, therapist appointments, and more therapists appointments
New words never spoken before today
Books read
Songs sung
Hair brushed and braided, tied up and back, locks maintained
Styles of hair, dress, classes that mirror a younger me
Events we could do together, putting them on the calendar
Plays and concerts in our living room
Weeks of childcare needed each summer
Moments of uncertainty
Breaths until my body releases the tension, triggered by our interaction
Milliseconds drawing out the challenges
Tablets of stimulants
Days since I had a drink
Friends to invite for your birthday party
Safety checks
Social media checks
Calls from the school
Degrees of a fever
Tummy aches, growing pains
Extra clean unders in backpacks for the inevitable accidents
Worksheets completed, with confidence or coercion
The times you screamed the N-word at me and the times I pray you didn’t know what it meant
Outfits laundered that smelled suspiciously of urine
Miles driven, hiked and skipped and scootered, rowed and swam, piggybacked both the joyful “sack of potatoes” and the kicking and screaming
Carrying a 5 year old in a baby carrier, because we need to be close to each other
Being our own little Pride parade
Saying “No we can’t go to that, it’s after bedtime”
Consistency when I crave spontaneity
Walks to school, holding your hand, the deep breath taken not to reply too sharply, to appreciate your bouncy gait instead
Weeks in a womb, hours in labor, nursing sessions, diapers changed, first smiles and teeth…these are not the measures of our path.
We hear a name, an age, some interests, some needs and we let them settle into our heart with wonder, hopes and fears until you became “our kids” and we become your support forever.
This is our practice. Lliving in the now. Unknowns behind and ahead of us, young feet walking beside us.
-Mary Carroll
Mary Carroll is a foster parent, lactation consultant, registered nurse and childbirth educator. Supporting families in all forms and ways is her passion.