I'm not sure I even know exactly what I want to write, but I can feel the internal wrestling that I tend to work out by writing. Therefore it is time to write again.
I want to try to explain how I function as a foster mother. We are deep in the trenches of transitioning a little love we have held since birth to a relative. When we are in transition, people ask me a lot about how I'm doing. This happened when we transitioned the love that lived with us for two and a half years as well. It's an important question, but it is one that I struggle to answer. Side note here, I deeply appreciate those who ask, and am humbled that they take time to check on me. My struggle to answer is not an indication that the question should not be asked, it is just hard to describe.
I would love to adopt. I would. We didn't start fostering to adopt, but sometimes an area of your heart grows through exposure. I've been exposed to a lot of foster care adoptions over the last few years. I sometimes daydream about sitting at the long table across from the judge, and commiting to care for a child forever. Changing surname and status in one brief appearance in court. Taking pictures together with the judge, and wrapping up a foster care story in one social media allowed, storybook ending bow. But for now, and maybe always, that is not our story. We are a foster family. We are temporary. Though our version of "temporary" has been quite long in both of our placements.
As much as I would love to adopt, I also see amazing beauty in the actual stories that have unfolded in our life. The mom who put into practice what she was taught, and was able to provide a safe place for her son. The grandma who has mobilized her village in order to raise the little boy that I have had the privilege of laying a foundation of love and care. When his story started, he needed a safe place and a loving home. It was our privilege and absolute joy to provide that for him. Today, the legal avenues have been navigated, and he can be raised by loving caring relatives. Our role as his foster family is ending.
So, yes, I hurt, I grieve, and I feel real loss. There are moments of deep longing for the story that never will be. I did not love this baby half way. I love him with my whole momma heart, so I grieve him with my whole heart as well. But, I regret nothing. He needed to be loved that intensely, and I'm so thankful to be the one who was able to love him. The bonds and attachments he formed in his first 19 months of life will allow him to love and bond throughout his entire life. Our role was vitally important.
This time around I have some knowledge that I gained from past experience. I know we will survive. I know that I can trust God with our future, and most especially with the future of this little love. I know I will think of him daily, and pray for him often even if I never hear another update on him after he leaves our home. And I know that I can love again. That my heart can grow to welcome another little love as well. I know that if he is leaving, then our time together as day in and day out family is complete. I truly believe that the days, weeks, months, years we've had with each of our kiddos, even the ones who have only spent one night here, are God ordained. This life has taught me to make the most of today because truly no one is guaranteed tomorrow.
So that's why I struggle to answer the how are you questions. I'm a mixture of sad and accepting, of thankful and a smidge of disappointed, but I'm not devastated. I'm not looking forward to goodbye, but I see the sovereignty of God in this story. I place kisses on his forehead and whisper in my heart, "that one is for his first day of school", or some other future event. I once placed those kisses on another precious forehead, and today that love brings me extreme comfort. I may never see this side of heaven how the love we poured into our boys changed and shaped their lives. However, I believe that when we allow Christ to love others through us it is life changing. For us and for them
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