Preparing for Goodbye again

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

I never really talk about the grief of foster care. Maybe that's because everyone else always brings up the grief part when they talk to me. "Isn't it so hard to give him back?" "How are you going to give a baby back?" "You haven't heard from him, I don't know how you do it?" The answer to those questions is grief. Real grief that grows out of real love and loss.

I feel the grief of foster care every day. I don't dwell in it, but I feel the reminders and pangs of it. When I see his class at church, and he's not there. When I pick the baby up at daycare, and his old classroom door is cracked and I can see the spot where he used to run to me every afternoon. When I go to meet the teacher, and people who know us in the community ask where our other son is. Then when they ask the isn't it hard questions for the millionth time. Yes, it's hard. Maybe I need a "business" card to hand out. "I'm a foster mom, yes it's hard."

If I'm really honest, then I have to admit that sometimes I want to just walk away from foster care. The reality is that it's tempting to think of how much easier my life would be without foster care. But, we know that this is our place of ministry for now. Sometimes I wish that we would have a placement stay forever, and then maybe my family would feel complete. I am often jealous of families that know they are complete. The family pictures that have the same people every year, I'm jealous. I've wanted our family to grow for roughly 6 years. For now God's answer to that desire is, No. That hurts too.

So here I am today, honest about my emotions but setting them aside. We are called to this ministry. I could walk away, no one is forcing me to stay, but the idea that a child might need us and we wouldn't be there scares me more than the grief. So we keep going. Within the next few weeks we will go through the reapproval process to start year 4. Our time in foster care is not finished.

So, how are we?

May is here, hallelujah! May is not only the wrap up of our school year and the gateway to summer, it is also foster care awareness month. As a foster parent we often hear the statement from others about not being able to foster because it would be too hard to give them back. So how are we a couple of weeks after we said goodbye to our foster son of 2.5 years? I think people really want to know how we are doing, but it's really hard to know how to ask. So I'm just going to answer it here for those who want to know, as part of foster care awareness, and for me to be able to look back on. I'm not sure how composed this will be, it may be more of a stream of consciousness than a composed post.

For the most part we are very good. We have slept in, gone to the movies as a family with just big kids, had no morning melt downs, and simply recovered from a very long ride on the foster care roller coaster. What most people do not know is the last part of those two and a half years was really rough. The system and the realities of life took everyone involved on some rough twists and turns. As much as we loved deeply and fully, there was some relief when the court decision was finally made and we were all out of limbo. For months we expressed how badly our little guy needed to be wherever he was going to be, the back and forth was detrimental, he needed permanency. As we drove away from court without him there was some joy mingled with our tears that he finally had permanency.

This is what we worked for. The goal in his case was always reunification with parent. It never changed in those 2.5 years. We loved deeply, fully, as if he was ours BUT he never was ours and no one ever said he would be ours. We never let our children believe he would stay forever, and we spoke of his mother daily. There were visits that reminded all involved that he had a family who was working to be able to have him home permanently.

I looked into his mother's eyes that day in court. I can't really write about that because I need to protect their privacy, but it I didn't grieve like I was losing a son because of her eyes. Was I/am I still sometimes sad? Absolutely. But she is a real person who was getting another chance that day. There is so much good in that. I couldn't be devastated because I had hope for her and in turn for him.

My God is a god of comfort. He has been with us every step. He has been close to us all through this transition back to a family of 4. He has provided friends, fun, laughter, unexpected time with our children, a beautiful spring after a long winter, and hope for all of our future. He has provided prayer in the sad or anxious moments. He is good, may He receive all the glory.

So how are my kids? They are good. We have had sadness and grief. We have had times of missing their brother where we just needed to hold close and remember him. But we have also had dreams for our future as a foster family. They both say they want us to keep doing foster care as a family. They both have developed wish lists for who they would like to have join us next.

My daughter expressed just days after court that she wasn't devastated. She told me she really expected to be, but she wasn't. She went on to describe in 10 year old words a hopeful sadness. I completely agree with her assessment.

The other night we were discussing when we would be ready to start again. As we came to a decision, they both cheered at the thought of opening our home again. We are a foster FAMILY not just foster parents.

I grieved a lot before he left. The last few months and particularly the last 6 weeks were rough. I grieved hard during those times. The not knowing, the limbo, the not being able to make any plans at all was rough. The knowing is better. I can deal with known so much better than the unknown. Sadness does creep in sometimes. Memories are all over this house, and our life, but the memories are fond memories. His picture remains all over our home just like the other two. He may no longer live in this house, but he will forever live in our hearts. Family court has no jurisdiction there.

So that's where we are. So glad for the time with our little guy. Thankful for every day that he was here. Certain he was here as long as he was supposed to be, but not a day longer. Hopeful for his future because we trust that God holds his future. Hopeful for our future as well. Knowing that this life is never easy and is full of brokenness, but God is good.

Found my voice again

Did I ever tell you the story of when I cried like a baby waiting to meet Aladdin and Jasmine at Disney World?  

It had been a long few weeks of foster care.  We had left our foster son of two plus years in respite because we never imagined he would still be in care by the time the trip rolled around.  We planned the trip for our core family, and to spend time with our forevers.  The afternoon before we left there was a phone call.  Basically he was going to leave foster care while we were gone.  We wouldn't be there. Suddenly it was our last night together. Devastating sums it up. We said our goodbyes in the driveway of a dear foster mom friend.  I was afraid I would never see her house the same way. 

And then by craziness of this life he didn't leave.  Waiting in line to meet Mickey we found out we had a few more weeks.  

Fast forward a couple of more days.  Tired from several days of all the magic of Disney World, and feeling torn with one of "my" kids back at home it happened.  We wanted to meet Aladdin and Jasmine.  The line wasn't bad, so we decided we would wait.  

These two were a great pair.  They were perfectly in character.  They were playing off of each other, and the people they were meeting.  It was a lighthearted time.  And then I started crying.  They were treating each child (and teenager and adult) as if they were the only child there.  They were noticing details about the child, and asking or commenting.  They were treating each child as a precious child.  I couldn't hold back the emotions of the past several weeks of foster care anymore.  

You see that's what foster parents try to do every day.  We try to show a child, that likely has been convinced they are not precious, that on the contrary they are extremely precious.  And unlike those dressed up fictional characters who are pretending to be princes and princesses there is a true King who knows just how precious they are.  He knows because He made them, He loves them, He died for them.  And I have the beautiful privilege of introducing them to Him.  

It was all too much and too overwhelming for this momma's heart.  So I just stood in line and quietly cried. 

They are precious in his sight. 

It's here.  The hard, difficult, don't want to do it part of foster care is here.  Transitioning a child who has lived in our home, as one of us, for over two years back home.  

People keep asking me how I feel.  I think sometimes they expect me to break down right there into a puddle of mush.  Sometimes they look at me like I'm crazy.  

I feel a lot of things, a lot of varying, even contradicting things.  

I feel hopeful that a family is being restored.  I feel sad that my family is shrinking.  

I feel some measure of relief as we will soon take a break from living under the microscope of case workers for a little while.  I feel anxious to know what our life will look like 6 months from now.   

I feel thankful that God saw fit to give me 25+ months of loving one child.  I feel heartbroken when I think of month 1,2,3 . . . Without this child. 

I feel helpless as I comfort a confused toddler during this transition.  I feel confident that God is sovereign even in the midst of circumstances that seem impossibly difficult.

I feel like smacking that person who said to me for the umpteenth time, "isn't this going to be so hard on you guys.". I feel thankful for grace when I say and think dumb things.

I feel confident that My God has a plan for our good and for His glory even when this is really difficult.  I feel envious that His plan for our family includes saying goodbye when His plan for others does not.  

I'm sure I feel a thousand other things.  Just stick around for a little bit, I'm sure something else will surface.  But here's the thing, how I "feel" is not to be trusted.  My feelings can be swayed, influenced, diminished, and changed.  What I cling to everyday are the things I know:

I know God is sovereign over joys and sufferings.
I know that we have been obedient to Him during this time.  
I know we have shown His love to this little one and little ones family as best we know how.
God works all things together for good.  Even hard things. Maybe even especially hard things.

What I hear

I'm not sure if I can explain this well, but I want to try.  We recently went to a family reunion with pretty distant relatives. I had an interesting conversation with a distant cousin's wife.  She doesn't know our story, but immediately started talking to me about her daughter's difficulty having children and their thoughts about trying to adopt.  (This is what happens when you have a multiracial family)

Anyway, I did not offer up my children's stories.  Maybe someone had told her we were foster parents, I don't know.  She kept saying that her daughter just couldn't do foster care because she just couldn't take it "if they came and took the baby".  It was a unique variation on the, "I could never do that, I'd get too attached"  comment. 

I want to write what it feels like to me at this stage of foster parenting when someone says they could never do that because they would get too attached.

1.  I passed too attached a long time ago, and it scares the snot out of me (thanks for bringing it up)

2.  So if I have willingly signed up to live this life, then I must be heartless because I will one day give them back (this is what foster parents hear when you say this to us).  

3.  I agree not everyone should be foster parents (particularly those still struggling through infertility.  Our life has had stages, we would have made terrible foster parents a decade ago.)

4.  What if it were you? What if your life was falling apart, you made some stupid decisions and as a result you temporarily lost custody of your children? (don't get on your high horse, there but for the Grace of God go all of us).  Wouldn't you hope for a second chance?  Wouldn't you hope your kids were treated well, loved , supported, encouraged to love you during that time?  This life is bigger than my comfort and needs.

5.  Not giving them back is called kidnapping.   

6. We signed up for this willingly.  We were trained, and are continually trained in caring for kids that are not our own from tough places.  No one lied to us, we knew what we were getting into.

7.  The pain of giving them back is a result of great joy of living with them.  If there wasn't a whole lot of good in living life with our kiddos it wouldn't hurt.

8.  If it doesn't hurt, I did it wrong.  We are talking about standing in for parents to kids.  In our current situation young kids.  Sometimes for a large percentage of the child's life. They only get one childhood.  They deserve to have a parent that adores them even if it's for a little bit.  Even if that parent is a foster parent .  Grief is a sign of a job well done.

9.  I (&you if you are called to it) can do all things(including letting go of a child I love) through Christ who gives me strength.  

Walking through it

Sometime in the next few months, our family will go through one of the things that scares people away from foster care.  We will have cared for a child for years and that child will leave our home.  When people list reasons that they feel they couldn't be foster parents, this one usually makes the top three.  "What if we have a child in our home for a year or even years and they still leave?"

So today, I'm writing from that place of knowing that we will soon face this reality.  I should preface this by saying that I have known of this reality for a little bit.  The place I am in right now does not reflect my immediate reaction to this news.  The place I am in now comes from much prayer and stepping back to remember why we started the process to become foster parents.  I have drawn close to God, and in some ways asked Him "why?"

I'm not a stranger to really painful circumstances related to children and my desire to have a family.  At 24 years old I stood alone with a surgeon and received heart breaking news about our ability to have children.  Several years later I received more heart breaking news about our attempts to adopt our now son from Guatemala.  Several years after that we were looked over and turned down many times over in an attempt to adopt domestically.  And all of those moments led us to and prepared us for foster care.   I know that.  If you have talked to me in the last three years about our decision to become foster parents you have heard parts of the circumstances I just listed.  They are the life events that step by step led us to where we are today.  God used the hard to bring us to His best. A life I would have never planned on my own.  I would have said, "how can I love and care for a child for years and then let them go?  It will kill me.  Especially after living through infertility, that's just crazy talk.. "

But I was wrong.  It wasn't crazy. It was our path that taught us to trust God, to trust His promises, His timing, His correction, His guidance, and His love for us.  Oh how I have questioned all of those things.  I have been sure that if God loved me He would allow me to get pregnant again, or bring my son home on my timetable, or have a surprise pregnancy against all odds, or not have a child stay in our home so long and still leave.  But the reality is His love for me is not based on my current circumstances.   That was settled a long time ago.  When he chose to send His son for a pitiful sinner like me.  When he chose not to spare His son the hurt and humiliation of the cross in order to reconcile me to himself.  God is good. God loves me. These things are not influenced by whether life is going my way at the moment. They are truth.

I'm not going to lie about this.  I have had a hard time adjusting back to my initial thoughts about foster care.  When a child lives with you for an extended period of time, case workers do ask a about adoption.  It has been an adjustment to get used to the way case workers talk in long cases.  Often the direction of things changes multiple times in a short amount of time.  I let myself dream when I probably shouldn't have.  We didn't become foster parents to adopt again (though my foster mom friends like to tell me that if you stay in this long enough someone is going to stay).  Somewhere around the 12-15 month mark I lost my foster mom hat.  Recently I have found it again.  That doesn't mean I won't grieve.  It will be similar to a death for us.  Our family will change forever again.  But, I believe that God created my family for this life.  I believe that when this little one moves on from us He will place someone else here because it will be their time of need.  He holds our future just as He always has.