The Lord has answered my prayers for a second week in a row – the jail visit was a bust again this past weekend. I couldn’t help but rejoice at this news when I heard it last night. I was in church yesterday praying my heart out that God would watch over this child and protect her heart. I prayed that He put up a roadblock again this week and He did! Last week it was forgotten paperwork, this week it was underwire bras – I don’t care what it is, I will keep praying for something to prevent the jail visit from occurring. These little victories give me hope that things will indeed work out – whatever “working out” looks like. God has a plan. God is in control.
The baby and I had a very nice weekend, despite the uncooperative weather. We spent Saturday with a friend of mine, shopping, trying on hats and being silly. The baby was even good when we had a “picnic” dinner on a blanket on her living room floor. He seems to grow more attached to me every weekend we spend alone. While I cherish our time together and wish it could go on forever, I am also acutely aware that our days together are numbered. Yesterday we had a great outing with my mom – we went to a greenhouse farm local to my parents. The baby found the roosters the most fun, preferring to follow them around rather than look at flowers. He made friends with the cats wandering around and liked watching the turkey strut his stuff with his plumage all puffed out. When I walked him over to meet the two llamas and two sheep, he was afraid. He also insisted they were not “wawas” but in fact horsies. It was precious and hysterical. And hey, we even got some flowers! I love that he is right at home on the farm, preferring to play outside in the dirt rather than indoors. He is just the kind of son I envision myself having; loving and cuddly, but rough and tumble wanting to play in the dirt and fall down, playing with balls and chasing the animals, wanting to collect rocks and sticks and not worried about getting himself all muddy and covered in dirt. I love him so much it just breaks my heart.
I become increasingly frustrated with this placement because I want to be ready to move on. Not that I really want to move on from these kids, I care very much for them. No, I do not think like a case worker – “there will always be another placement” – but I need to have some level of self preservation and this is it. They are going home and I need to be ready to move on. This is a feeling and a thought process I don’t like to entertain. But, living with a shattered heart, I need to find some measure to stave off more devastation. I don’t like myself jaded. It makes my heart feel hard and cold. Like I felt the first time I heard a case worker say, “there will be another placement” when I lamented the loss of a child. As if these children are inanimate objects, no one more important or special than the other. I cannot see them that way, not when I get to know them and grow to love them. How can I say so flippantly, “there will be others” and not tarnish the relationship we have now? There might be other placements but these two kids are one-of-a-kind, just as every child is – just like every person is a unique individual. But, it is this thinking that is the albatross around my neck; it is the curse of feeling too much and getting too involved with such a tenuous situation like children in foster care. Friday I was so fed up with some of the things happening I left a message for my case worker telling her I was considering putting in my 30 days notice. I told her, “The only thing stopping me is knowing how hard it would be on the children, plus the kids are really not the problem. I feel stuck and unable to move on to meet my personal goal of adoption because I feel like this case just keeps dragging on and on and on with no resolution. The children have been going home since December with no real plans in place for this to occur. Do I understand that things happen that are out of everyone’s control? Yes. And I agreed to take this placement knowing this was just a foster care placement. I just dislike feeling “stuck” with no end in sight. So, that is where I am at right now.” I don’t suspect I will get a response, I didn’t last time I expressed my displeasure at this never-ending placement. What more can I do? I could give up and get the kids removed from my home, but that would be unkind to them and then I would be doing exactly what bugs me about how “other” people treat them – I would not be putting their best interest first. The kids are adjusted to my home, adjusted to my schedule and moving them now would disrupt everything and would not be fair to them. So, I hang on for their sake. Now I just need to find a way to shut my mouth and not complain about it. It is clear that CHOR does not care about the predicament I am in and is not interested in offering any advice or solution. I need to suck it up and march on. Until they move home and then I can begin waiting for the next (and hopefully last) placement.
I read a blog the other day written by a single foster mom having to give up the baby living in her home. She mentioned something that struck a chord with me – how can someone sign up to be a foster parent knowing that someday the child(ren) living with them will be leaving? To be fair, I never actually signed up as a foster parent. I started this process with the end goal of adoption. Then things got royally messed up and as a form of healing, I decided to continue as a foster parent. But, I wasn’t a foster parent for long when I decided once again that adoption was my goal. I have waivered in my decision, at first I was afraid I could not “do it” alone. But, after caring for three young children for an entire month – including an infant! – I no longer doubt myself. I can do it. My other worry, one I still consider from time to time, is that alone I am not enough. I know firsthand that being a single parent is not easy. It is possible and I have plenty of support that helps to make me successful, but I worry that no county will consider me for an infant because it’s just me, no partner, no daddy. I judge myself because I am discontent with my current lot in life. And, I believe that a two parent household is the best, most ideal situation for a child. However, in the case of a child or children being in an unsafe, unhealthy home, certainly a one parent home is a better alternative than abuse, neglect or any other detrimental living conditions. So, while I judge myself for “doing it alone” I also understand that sometimes life just isn’t the best, most ideal or perfect situation. But, I digress…..
It has been said to me on more than one occasion, “I can’t do what you do,” meaning, “I can’t take kids in and then give them up again.” It is not easy, in fact it is downright gut-wrenching, heart-breaking and borderline sadistic. Not having any children of my own makes the emptiness of my home after a child or children leave all the more poignant. So how or why do I do it? The why is simple. I want to adopt a child through the foster care system. That’s why I’m here. The how is a little more complicated. I have no sage words of wisdom to impart. Each time I find my heart just as shattered as the last. Similar to the monthly two-week-wait (or longer depending on how temperamental my period was being) that allowed hopes to soar that, despite the unlikelihood, this month could be *the* month. The crash that followed, no matter how many times it happened, left me feeling devastated, staring down into the endless black pit of despair. Losing a foster care placement is no less painful. I hesitate to make this comparison, but losing a foster child is the closest experience I have (and ever hope to have) to the death of a child. Once a child is moved, unless a favorable relationship has been established with the family (which has not yet been my experience), it is like they have been taken from this earth. Family members are disinclined to send photos or email updates or be your buddy on Facebook. The child is gone. The gaping hole in my heart never fully closes. I still lament the loss of my first foster placement (by far the most earth shattering removal of a child from my home). And, although I asked for her to be moved, I still find myself missing the older child. We had some good times together and I miss her goofiness and our joking around together. My heart aches when I look around church and see the babies who are around the same age as the baby I had in November. I wonder how she is doing and how her older sisters are fairing. I miss them with a bone-crushing sorrow. How do I do it? First, the strength of God. Without His grace and sending angels to hold me up, I would be a huge puddle of broken misery. And, not to sound haughty, but I can do it because I’m not the one making the decisions. I deal with the consequences of the verdicts that get passed down for the children, but I can look myself in the face in the mirror knowing I did not make the life-altering decision for a child and family. In essence, my job is simple – I provide a loving, caring home environment for children who are in need. I don’t decide if/when children return home, I don’t determine if it is permissible for a young child to visit a relative in jail, I don’t conclude that certain behaviors are “normal” given the instability a child has endured, I don’t treat the children as just one more placement easy come – easy go. I don’t have to live with myself if I make a decision that irreparably changes the outcome of so many lives. I don’t have to align my opinions and personal beliefs with a corrupt system that is intended to help children but only manages to damage them even further. If someone were to ask me what is the hardest part of being a foster parent I would not say losing the child(ren) although that is incredibly hard – no, the hardest thing about being a foster parent is not being able to make those live-altering judgment calls but having a front-row seat to witness the consequences of the decisions of others. I do what I can to ensure the child(ren) living with me are given every chance to reach their full potential. Outside of that, I have no control and can do nothing to effect necessary change. And that pisses me off to no end. I am reminded of the Serenity Prayer – “God grant me the Serenity to accept the things I cannot change, Courage to change the things I can, and the Wisdom to know the difference.” That pretty much sums it up for me.
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